After teaching for 23 years, one ends up with quite a few hilarious memories.

Here is story #1 of some serious ridiculousness on my part.

The cardinal rule for a woman preacher is to literally never let them see you sweat. I mean, who wants to see a woman preaching and moving her arms around to prove a point, with big sweat stains in her delicate armpits? It doesn't play in Peoria.

So I selected preaching shirts that would - obviously - hide the sweaty armpits that always happened when I was up front. This is HARD WORK, people!

One Sunday morning I decided to take a tiny risk and wear a kind of dark green blouse. It was - and is - so lovely.

Tragically, it failed to hide the sweaty armpit situation.

So, between services I raced to the bathroom and stuck my sweaty armpits under the hand dryer, feverishly trying to dry up the pits of my shirt.

Once dry, I knew I was at risk for pitting out the second service.

I came up with an ingenious idea - I stuck paper towels in each armpit to dry up the pits. Brilliant!

Unfortunately, I was fearful the paper towels would tumble out of my sleeves while I was preaching. How awkward!

So, I raced to the church office and used rubber bands to hold the paper towels in place.

I was ready!

As I was teaching during the second service, however, a strange sensation came over me.

I slowly, but surely started to lose all feeling in my hands and arms.

I use both a LOT during a sermon.

By the end, I could barely turn the pages of my text and my arms hung like dead weight at my sides.

I could have easily lost both limbs to this horrible, armpit sweat-induced idea.

Life lesson - Just wear black.

The end.

Story #2 to come ... It's a doozy.