Embarrassment Countdown (1)

I was asked recently to think about some of the more embarrassing moments in my life. It should perhaps trouble me that I had zero difficulty thinking of several. What is really disturbing is the knowledge that I have almost certainly suppressed the memory of countless really embarrassing episodes, which others may remember well.

Anyway, let me share five of these over the next few days so I can have the chance to learn humility through laughing at myself with others looking in.

Most Embarrassing Moment #5:

I was in the second grade. Yes, as in 7 years old. Early signs of precociousness were much in evidence: soaring intellect, superb athleticism, endearing charm, astonishing oratorical abilities. Actually I was an average 7 year old in most ways, but definitely not average in one thing: I liked girls.

The fact is that I had a sharp, ever active eye for female beauty and charm. In fact I compiled a list of my top ten favorite girls in school. This helped me keep my life and priorities in order. I told you a day or two ago that I'm all about living an ordered life, so there you have it. I decided to start early. There's no good in having all these females around if I'm not going to be organized in how I evaluate them. Either that or I just had a weird and troubling seven year old fascination with girl cuteness.

The list was meant to be a very private thing of course. And so it was until one of my siblings got hold of it. And thus began an early-in-life embarrassing moment, one which my siblings have never let me forget. Do the math, there’s been 43 years of laughing at my expense over my girl-crazy early childhood.

It was bad enough that they discovered the list. What made it worse was the little game they decided to play with it in hand. When the whole family learned of my list the game was on to guess which of the girls in my class made the top of the list. As guesses didn't come close, my list-bearing sibling started giving out clues.

The clue I remember was: "She's the girl that has--what shall we say--the least actual appeal and personality." In other words, in my sib's opinion, she wasn't very cute. In fact, in his eyes, of all the girls in my class, she scored lowest on the cuteness/charm scale.

What was particularly disturbing in all of this was that the whole family--based on the clue--guessed who it was right away. So much for my second grade level discernment of beauty.

Now I grant you that this is no life-shattering moment of horrified embarrassment. But it did cause me cover my head a bit, and I haven’t forgotten it. And what did I learn from it? To be honest? Not much. I won’t pretend that I did. I did make sure to guard my lists a bit more carefully from then on, but that’s about it.

One thing I can say now: my family has had hours of laughter at my expense over that episode—along with several others that I’ve provided for the family story-telling repertoire. I am by far the one that is talked about and laughed at more than any other in my six-sibling family. It's been my calling in life.

Here is what I have learned in the time since childhood. It’s okay to laugh, and it’s best to laugh at your own expense.

Humor is good. And humor seems best when it sees the funny in one’s self. Humor at one’s own expense humbles the self, and it frees others to see us as those who are secure in who we are (in ourselves and more importantly, in Christ) and who can then share a moment of life and joy sustaining laughter. It’s all good. I guess that’s today’s life lesson.

By the way, it’s a good thing I started training in female charm discernment so early. It allowed me to hone my skills to perfection by the time I was sixteen when I met Gayline. Otherwise I would have let the most beautiful young woman in the world walk by unnoticed, and who knows whom I would have ended up with then!