Failure

“However, if you suffer as a Christian, do not be ashamed, but praise God that you bear that name.” - 1 Peter 4:16

Have you ever had an accident that you’re not exactly proud to announce to the world? I very recently experienced what can only be described as one of the most hilariously pathetic moments of my life, and since the keyword here is in fact “hilariously,” I’ve decided to share it with you.

It’s not what you think; I didn’t wet the bed or anything gross like that. I did, however, manage to wet the bible. (With water.)

You’re probably thinking, “How is that even possible? Something that idiotic would require less coordination than a one-eyed chicken with a peg leg.” Well, you're absolutely right! I am even more awkward than the most pitifully handicapped imaginary animal that I can think of at the moment.

Nothing wrong with a pirate chicken.

I am not really known for my clumsiness outside the dance floor, but this particular incident may change that.

I invent all my own moves.

There’s no point in dragging this out, so I’ll just tell the story now.

It was a quiet evening at home, I was in bed already so it must have been around 11 p.m. I was having trouble getting to sleep that night, so as usual, I busted out my iPhone & headphones and hit up my Sleepy Time playlist (don’t judge me.) This method always does the trick and in a matter of minutes, I was dozing off.

Now, before I describe the terrible event that was to come, I need to show you the layout of my room so you understand the exact magnitude of my utter failure at life.

This picture is really boring, so I drew you a walrus.

It should also be noted that my bed is basically two mattresses on a wooden frame about a foot and a half tall laying directly on the ground. There’s no space underneath for losing valuable objects, spiders to inhabit, or monsters to hide on the off chance my childhood nightmares decide to become reality.

90% sleep-proof.

Because of this, instead of a night stand, I just use the floor next to my headboard. I’m a bit of a risk taker when it comes to bedside paraphernalia. What can I say? I like to lay it all on the line. My devil-may-care attitude proved to by my downfall, however, as somehow in the midst of falling asleep, my arm with iPhone in hand managed to fall in just the perfect way to come in contact with my glass of water.

Imagine a flood of biblical proportions. Endless tidal waves poured out of the cup, engulfing anything and everything in their destructive path, bringing with them an armada of ice cube-shaped glaciers to emphasize the devastation.

"The waters rose greatly on the earth, and all the high mountains under the entire heavens were covered." - Genesis 7:19

(That may be slightly exaggerated. It may have been more like this:)

My hand must have been splashed by the freezing water because I jolted awake and upright. In a matter of seconds, my brain made the complete transition from “What? I’m asleep, go away.” to “HOLY CRAP, EVERYTHING IS RUINED FOREVER!”

My initial reaction was to throw my phone across the room at a dangerous velocity as instinct told me that this was the most valuable object in immediate danger of becoming wet, and thusly, broken.

Next was Mr. Laptop, who had been foolishly placed in close proximity to Mr. Water, and those two do not get along well to say the least.

To keep him away from the watery fate that would surely have been his untimely end, I kicked Mr. Laptop across the floor in a moment of sheer panic.

Only then did I notice that by taking the time to launch my technology to safety, I had sacrificed a vastly more important instrument at my bedside.

The icy grips of the water had been allowed several crucial seconds to soak through the latter chapters of my bible, including Revelation and at least two of the Epistles. In a flurry of pseudo-swear words, I rescued it from the puddle (lake) that was forming on the carpet.

I'm no potty-mouth.

Still in a state of hysteria, I laid on the floor of my room, opening the pages that had gotten wet and trying to blow them dry, apparently believing that I would be granted magic hairdryer powers. Instead, I only managed to look like a soaking wet, crazy weirdo clutching a bible as if it were an injured baby bird.

Not my greatest moment.

To make matters worse, which I didn’t think was possible, my dog Max sensed the commotion and came to investigate.

Max stared at me momentarily, with a mix of judgment and confusion in his eyes, before proceeding to the disaster area. Seeing the ice cubes strewn across the floor, he began to deliberately pick them up with his tongue.

That's... helpful?

He then turned around to face me, and, realizing that ice cubes are cold, spat them out onto my open bible.

I was not pleased.

Eventually I calmed down enough to find and plug in my desk fan and was pleasantly surprised to watch the water evaporate from the pages and my bible was restored to its original dry and holy state. Aren’t you glad I confessed one of the lowest moments of my adult life to you? And it was even vaguely bible-related to boot! Needless to say, I learned from my mistake. I'll never drink water again.

P.S. So at this point, your list of immediate dangers should include snakes, apples, and now ice water. Your bible isn’t just a book, it’s something you should hold near and dear. It’s not the physical object that’s so important, but the Word that’s written inside. The Word keeps you protected, so obviously you should want to reciprocate that protection. Keep your bible where you can always reach it easily, but out of reach of anything that might damage it. You might smudge or erase or tear a verse that could have changed your life. (Also, that’s a LOT of pages you have to dry out.)

-sam