I do not always like surprises.
Ben White via Unsplash
One time, many years ago, I had to work on my birthday, the same day a group of friends usually gathered at my house for an evening of laughter and Trivial Pursuit and who-knows-what-else. They decided to go bowling. I gave one of them the key to my house so they could gather there afterwards if I didn’t make it to the bowling alley. After a trying day of journalism, I pulled into my driveway. The house was dark, and I assumed my friends were still bowling. I dragged myself up my steps, opened the door and made a shocking discovery.
The lights turned on as if by magic and my living room was full of my friends yelling “Surprise!” I have a picture of the look on my face, which is somewhere between terrified and annoyed, not the sort of delightful expression one might expect. I remember exclaiming, “Oh my God!” which I later regretted because I thought maybe I had taken the Lord’s name in vain. (I think He has forgiven me on that by now.)
I was glad my friends had cared enough about me to throw me a party. I am seldom caught off guard. They executed the plan perfectly.
Read the complete post at Putting on the New, where I blog on the 12th of each month.