I was minding my own business in church last week, talking to Momz, playing with the kids, waiting for church to start (I was early, for once), when he approached me.
He sat in the empty pew ahead of us, turned his ironic-yet-somehow-mournful gaze on me, and I knew he was going to ask me something.
In our church, when a member of the Bishopric wants to talk to you, it's never just to chat. They don't want to know how the weather was when you left the house, or if you caught last week's "Lost." It's going to be something else. Something...scary.
So when Brother Coolguy said, "Could you say the closing prayer today?" I said, "Sure!" because I was so relieved it was nothing more, failing to remember that I had never, EVER given the prayer in Sacrament Meeting before, and I have a distressing tendency to pray for silly things when I'm nervous. ("Please bless Princess, that she will stop using "poop" as her default answer to everything.")
I should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Again pulling his patented "fake-out," Brother Coolguy rose from the pew saying, "And I need to talk to you after the meeting, for just a second."
Didn't I just get a new calling? (Second counselor in the Primary presidency.) (Primary is our organization for children 18 months-12 years.) (We have a president, who has two counselors, who kind of run the show, help teachers with problems, teach large group lessons, etc.) What could Brother Coolguy be asking?
Wednesday night, I found out.
I have to give a talk.
I am not the strongest choice for church speaker. I tend to get very emotional when I'm talking about spiritual things. And it's not emotional in the beautiful, Brooke-Shields-is-dying-but-her-mascara-looks-fabulous way; I'm talking about ugly, honking-into-a-burp-cloth-because-I-forgot-my-kleenex, snuffling, awkward, wet emotional. So my talks tend to either be entertaining but totally not spiritual, or spiritual but incoherent.
It remains to be seen what this week's talk will be. I've gotten it mostly written, I'm about to time it and see if I've got my 10-12 minutes done. Either way, be thinking of me Sunday morning at 9:15.
I'll bring the Kleenex.