I was off with some of the church gals just a couple of months ago, delivering big boxes of canned foods, flour, sugar, etc. Donated mostly but a lot of it purchased by the church to kinda round out the selection.

I mean, have you ever seen the typical church “box o’ donated foodz”? Typically something like ten cans of cream corn, a can of beets and maybe a bag of beans or some such. So we buy some other stuff to toss in there. Flour, sugar, fresh bread. Some basic staples. Rice and beans, certainly.

All of which tends to make for a bunch of pretty heavy boxes that need slinging around. So here’s the church truck (we use a truck for donated foodz delivery) with two little church girls (plus me) in the back, one in the front and the young church dude (who owns the truck) up front driving.

Now we’d done this time and again, and it’d become rather rote. We shop until the church fund allocated to donated foodz is tapped out, divy everything up to the boxes (one for each of the folks on the list), load ‘em up and head on out. At each stop I hop out and grab a box. The trio of bouncy church giggles head on in to make the folks there smile and I lug the box to the porch or step or whatever.

The driver usually stays with the truck. I don’t know when it became part of our routine that he didn’t actually do anything but drive. I think maybe he always just came along because it was his truck and that’s it.

So this time, just a couple of months ago, it was hot. I mean, it’s summer down here. In Louisiana. Swamp country. Ergo, very hot and humid, to the point that one often is tempted to ask God just what you did wrong that you have to suffer so. So I wore a t-shirt that time and left my little collar at home.

Naturally, that’s the day it occurred to the giggle squad that I was missing all the fun in actually engaging with the folks we were visiting. So they offered to lug the boxes a while. And I argued, no I came along to haul the boxes so you, the giggles squad, could make your church look nice to the folks we were delivering this stuff to. Eventually I honed the point to, no I don’t want our church to not look nice by stomping in there myself and scaring the old people.

Eventually it became almost a heated argument. Everyone was, at least, passionate about their position anyway. They all (even the driver who, in my opinion, wasn’t a part of the discussion ) were firm on the position that I shouldn’t be ashamed to present myself to folks I’m actually delivering charity to.

And, yeah. I get that. And I’m not ashamed or any such thing. I’m just aware that an almost six foot tall, raspy voiced, redheaded mass of scar tissue and tattoos stalking into your home tends to make most sane people a little nervous. So I’m polite enough that it seems a better idea for the giggle squad to do the face work.

Eventually the argument waned, as I’d stuck to my guns pretty stubbornly. But in retrospect it occurred to me what were dealing with there. This idea that’s permeated our society that you should be proud of who you are. That you should put who you are right in other people’s faces, and proudly. Most especially if there’s any chance those people might disapprove or even be uncomfortable with who you are.

That’s stupid. I wasn’t proud of “who I am” that day, not in the sense of how I looked at that particular moment, which is what we were confronting. Didn’t feel bad about it either, just aware that I made for quite a picture, if you get me.
And there’s been a bit of a division between me and the giggle squad ever since because of this. How do you explain the difference between ashamed of yourself and simple awareness that how you look today might be slightly startling? I really don’t think most people understand that there is a difference anymore. If everything about you isn’t great and wonderful all the time, then you’re not proud. And you should be proud.

I contemplated bringing the concept of humility into the conversation but decided, in light of their reactions so far, they might all suffer an embolism or something if I did.

Not sure exactly why being proud is so important, really. I asked but the giggle squad seemed to have trouble articulating just then. Seems to me bad things happen when your especially proud of yourself. Been my experience anyway.