So last week in Sunday School (after the winking Jesus convo) I had an existential breakdown. It was somewhat epic and at least a 9.5 on the uncomfortable scale. Definitely one of my finer more FAWESOME moments as an adult.
Honestly I was nervous to go back today. I thought about calling in sick...except there was no one to call...so I went.
I walked into the room not sure what I would find. What I found was a circle of chairs and five spirited teenagers. As soon as I sat down Ryan (the original, not 2.0) left the room...when he returned he was carrying a large bouquet of brightly colored flowers. He handed them to me and said they were from him and his brother Jared.
What. Do. I. Say. To. That???
Seriously, how many 17-year-old boys bring their Sunday School teacher a bunch of flowers the week after she melts down in class? My guess is not many.
I teared up.
Then Gabby handed me a bag that looked like it was concealing a bottle of booze, and said, "I know this looks like a bag of drugs but it's full of Starbursts".
Then McCall handed me a letter and a container of homemade candy.
They are the reason I get up every Sunday and force myself to go to church.
They are real. They are honest.
They had nothing to gain by remembering me today. But they did anyway.
And it means more to me than they will ever know.