For the life of me I can't remember if I've mentioned that I'm speaking at a women's retreat in September. So, if I haven't mentioned it, I'm speaking at a retreat in September. If I have mentioned it, you should probably know that I'm starting to get a little preoccupied by the looming date. You know, four and a half months away. I mean goodness, it's practically tomorrow.
This always happens to me when I have something really important in several months. There's the I Have A Play In Three Months Nightmare. It occurs somewhere during the first week of rehearsal. In the dream it is opening night. I don't know my lines and am frantically trying to scribble them on my arms and legs. Generally my costume is either way too big or built for a kindergartner. And, inevitably, some major character is missing and I'm expected to just sort of wing it, without him. There was also the I'm Giving Birth In Sixth Months So I Should Probably Consume Myself With Figuring Out How It's Done pep talk I gave myself for my last two trimesters.
My husband, who prepares a 45 minute sermon every week, thinks I'm a loon. He generally thinks that if I start really working on the retreat in August I'll be good. This is because he's crazy. If I waited until August I'd be fine except that I'd wish I'd started in April. So, not to procrastinate, I have one talk about 90% completed. I have another one about 20% done. I want to be ready. You know, in case the rapture happens and I have to switch my venue to heaven. I'm assuming we won't use computers or index cards in heaven and I'll need to have it all committed to memory. Although I hardly doubt that, what with being in the presence of God, we'll need retreat talks.
I also keep waiting for the church to rescind their offer on account of the fact that they'll come to realize I don't actually know anything. I'm just a 27 year old drama queen who has perfected the art of changing a diaper without getting sprayed in the face. Sure I can recite the 66 books of the Bible in one breath and turn my feet around backward but I mean, can't everyone? I am very certainly nothing special as is evidenced by my son's knowledge. Today, when I asked him what mommy's job is he replied, "To clean the house." Touche.
So, in September I plan to stand in front of a bunch of women and say, simply, "I have no idea why I'm here. I just clean the house. Wanna hear me say all the books of the Bible in one breath?"