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I was a college student and a candidate for ministry through my church’s denomination. Part of my responsibilities included attending semi-annual regional clergy meetings. There was no dress code, but the unwritten rule was that us candidates should dress professionally. I am not one to dress up often so when I do, I try to look my best. Those who know me may disagree. I digress.

Anyways, this one particular meeting had me meeting with an important committee as well as having to give a brief devotion to open the morning session. I did my duty and went to my meetings. Everything seemingly went off without a hitch. I went to lunch in the fellowship hall with everyone, shaking hands, making contacts, greeting old friends. Again, no problems. The day was a real pleasure– a surprise since these meetings could be quite a chore in the past.

Before I left, I decided I better make a trip to the rest room before hitting the road. I went to unzip my pants and to my horror, discovered not only that it was unzipped, but my shirt was sticking out of my fly. Being my first trip to the bathroom that day, it immediately dawned on me that my shirt had been sticking out of my fly all day long; at my devotion in front everyone, at my committee meeting, while shaking old ladies’ hands at lunch. And no one had told me. I was oblivious. Until now.

I told a friend about it. “It could have been worse.” he said. “At least it was just your shirt sticking out.”

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