The LORD's (Sometimes Hysterical) Providence

I've been trying to lose a few pounds lately. Not because I think I am fat or anything like that. My clothes have just gotten a wee bit snug (OK, a lot bit snug) and it makes me want to pass out when I think about how much money it will cost to buy all new clothes. So, I find myself in the unhappy position of being on a diet. And by the way, I have figured out what the problem with diets is. You have to be on one for more than a few hours for it to work. Hmph.

So this morning, as I put on a pair of jeans that I bought two years ago, I was pleased to find that they fit beautifully. So beautifully, in fact, that I made a mental note to check the tag for the name brand and size so I could go find a second pair to purchase.

I'm almost always in a rush to get out the door, and this morning was no different. It was also abnormally cold outside for this time of year, and I knew that I needed to put a coat on. As it happened, I spotted a wool blazer in the very back of my closet. Picture one of those long wool blazers that your stereotypical horsewoman would wear along with riding britches, tall leather boots and a crop in some kind of Calvin Klein Americana ad, and you've got this blazer down pat. It is not currently in fashion by any stretch of the imagination, but it was such a good deal when I bought it that I couldn't resist. And every once in a while, I get a kick out of wearing off-beat clothes. So this morning, I put in on, topped it off with a Burberry plaid scarf and rushed out the door.

As I was plopping down in the driver's seat of my car, it happened. My jeans split. I mean, they tore open with an audible "zzzziiiiippp" sound and everything. I was stunned. These were the same jeans that I had just congratulated myself on fitting into. AND I had been sitting down in them all morning, this was not my first sit since putting them on.

Horrified, I considered my options. I was going to the drop off line at school, and I didn't need to get out of my car for that. And I was running late. So I made a snap decision to swing back by the house and change pants AFTER dropping off at school. Nobody would know the difference, would they?

So I'm driving toward the school, with my chilly bottom pressed straight against the leather seat of my car, when I noticed a distinct whooshing sound. The kind of sound that you hear when the windows are cracked. But the windows weren't cracked. Confused, I asked if the doors were shut in the back of the car. "No," one of the kids happily informed me. "I opened it."

Great. I'm going to have to pull over, get out, show all of the passing traffic my fanny in ripped jeans and re-shut the car door. Fabulous. What a great way to start the day. So I stopped, jumped out, re-shut the car door and jumped back in the driver's seat as fast as is humanly possible. Whew. What were the chances of that happening?

Then it got even better. Just as I pulled into the drop-off line, my cell phone rang. It was the alarm company. My house alarm was going off and I needed to return home to meet the police. I am not making this up.

"Please, please, cancel the alarm to the police!" I said to the woman from the alarm company. "I am on my way home right now, and I'm sure the alarm was accidentally set off!"

As you can imagine, scenes of meeting the police officer with my bottom exposed were flashing through my head. The woman said she would cancel the call to the police, and I headed back toward my house. The whole time I am driving, all I can think is how horrible and random and embarrassing it would have been to get out of my car and meet a police officer in my driveway with my pants flapping open in the back.

Oh, you guessed it. There happened to be a very nice and considerate police officer right around the corner from my house when the alarm was called in. And even though the alarm company cancelled the call, this particular police officer was so courteous, and so diligent, that HE CAME ANYWAY!!!!

I had no choice. I parked my car behind the police cruiser and got out, complete with a blast of chilly morning air hitting my rather bare bottom. We exchanged a few words. He had already checked the back of the house, everything looked fine. A neighbor had even called in to make sure the police knew my house alarm had been tripped. I was oh-so-careful not to turn around the least little bit while I conversed with the officer. But at the same time, I was horribly aware of every single car that drove past the front of my house. I could only hope that they weren't enjoying the neighborhood scenery and had their eyes glued to the road. But, how many times have you driven past a police car in someones driveway and failed to rubberneck? I assume that all the passers-by this morning did the same.

Finally, the officer was satisfied that all was well, and I carefully walked away from him, BACKWARDS, to the safety and modesty of my car. All the while hoping that he didn't think I was a weirdo who walked backwards for no apparent reason.

When I got into my house, I immediately rushed back into my bedroom and turned around to see how bad the damage was in my full-length mirror. I couldn't believe my eyes.

That random wool blazer, the one that I just happened to spot in the closet this morning, reached down to exactly the spot where the pant rip stopped. I was covered the whole time, and I didn't even realize it.

And that, my friends, I can only chalk up to the LORD's sometimes hysterical and unexpected providence. Because I have worn that blazer exactly one other time in the whole year that I have owned it. But something made me notice it and take the time to put it on today, just before I walked out the door. I don't know how else to explain it, but I think there are a few verses in the Bible somewhere about modesty...