So it's the Monday after my big night and I'm still chuckling because I can't believe I cried. I cried in front of the entire congregation. I cried seconds after realizing that God had made me for the very thing that I was about to do. I was made to minister to the people. But, instead of just doing that I cried.
As I sit and Monday morning quarterback myself, it's extremely hilarious. I mean I sat for almost an entire week without a care in the world. The sermon was finished and I was having an absolute zen moment. I felt like I was just going to do such a great job. I can still see myself sitting there in church clapping and singing along. I was having a great time. The music stopped. Pastor Harvey stepped to the microphone and called my name. FIRST! I still felt fine. I was made for this right? Next thing I know I'm walking up to the pulpit. I smiled. My hands secured the microphone. Then, for no reason at all my eyes joined the enemy camp and began to water. I took a breath, put my head down, and tried to calm down. Calm quickly exited the building so I turned to Pastor Harvey and told him I'm not ready.
My pastor never listens to my attempts to get out of anything, but I thought surely my tears will persuade him that I'm really not ready. I would have no such luck. Instead of letting me off the hook, he and two of the elders began to pray and lay hands on me. I haven't the foggiest what they were saying. I just kept telling myself you were made for this.
A short time after the prayer, I again took the microphone. I looked out into the crowd and though tears were an almost constant partner, I did the best that I could do. I felt a sense of relief afterward because at the end of the day I am made for this.
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