2003 – Broussard, LA
I walked into the sanctuary a little tired from the day, but ready to be energized by a time of worship and a good message. We were a fairly new addition to the pastoral staff, so I wanted to put my best foot forward. After all, people were still getting to know me. I had on my favorite trouser jeans and the cutest white jacket. A great pair of high heels and freshly straightened hair topped off the outfit. I felt good, ready to meet new friends and enjoy the presence of God. As I was making my way to the front pew, I felt a tug on my arm. I turned around, expecting a warm greeting. But instead I was faced with a very concerned look. The question that followed nearly knocked the wind out of me…
“What makes you think that YOU can wear jeans to a service? Do you see any of the other pastor’s wives wearing jeans?”
My heart sank, I didn’t know how to recover from the statement. Still in shock I managed to mumble an apology…It took everything within me not to run out of the church in embarrassment. I spent the rest of the service discretely counting how many other people were in jeans. Evidently I wasn’t alone in thinking that it was okay to dress casual for a mid-week service. I slipped out during the salvation prayer and ran to the car. All I could think about was how I let everyone down…I was already a failure and people barely knew me. This instance was the kick-start to a very long season. A season of feeling as though I did everything wrong…a season of being controlled.