this is no longer my blog

So the more I think about it, the more it sinks in that MY SUPERVISING PASTOR IS GONE THIS WEEK. He won't be back until Tuesday.
Do you understand what this means?
I'm not used to making sure EVERYTHING that needs to be done for the three worship services gets done. It's usually been a joint venture. I KNOW that I'm going to miss something and there will be this LARGE, GLARING error in one of the worship services. The organ will come to a stop like a phonograph needle scratching off of a record. People will gasp. A woman in the back will let out a horrified shriek. I'll look up from whatever it is I was doing, only to realize the error. I'll fall to my knees, my face twisted into a look of horrified despair. "OH DEAR GOD!!" I'll scream. "WHY?!?!?!?!??????" Then I'll throw myself onto the ground as I'm overcome with body-wracking sobs.
Okay, so MAYBE there was some exaggeration in there... but just a little.
But seriously, I just keep thinking of all the little things, that normally we split up, or Supervising Pastor reminds me needs to get done. There is no one to remind me that they need done. Yes, they are just little things. The big things I will probably manage to remember. But these little things, when added together, BECOME big things. Big things that are harder to fix, because they're not actually big things, but a large group of little things, thus they don't have one solution, as a normal big thing would. (Did that make any sense? It's late... we'll blame it on that.)
I know - I mean like deep within my depths, right by the little room where Jesus lives, I KNOW - that things will be alright. They might be done a bit differently, but they will be alright. But that doesn't help the rest of me - that whole big nervous blob that surrounds that little bit that is deep within my depths, right by the little room where Jesus lives. The rest of me is freaking out, going through a TON of what-ifs and all those wonderful "worst case scenarios." I'd go buy that book, you know that little yellow one, but I don't know if that will be so helpful. I mean, I'm not sure if I'll have to deal with a downed power line or win a sword fight or leap from a moving car. Or even survive a poisonous snake attack (we're not that kind of Christians). So, really, the little things that might go wrong pale in comparison to some of those... So I might be freaking out and exaggerating things a bit. But I sort of feel like THIS IS MY BIG TEST. This is the litmus test to see if I have what it takes to do this, you know? It's like my Momma Bird just pushed me out of the nest, and I had better be flying because otherwise while I'm flopping along on the ground that dog will chase me and between the chomping canine jaws and the stress to my heart I will die on that front lawn, leaving that young boy to stand, sobbing and telling his mother that they NEED to bury that poor baby bird (oh wait... that's a different story ALTOGETHER...). But I think you get the picture, right?
So yeah, that would be why I'm still up at 11:41pm on Wednesday, March 9th. Because I seem to have myself worked up, and all anxious and nervous about the next few days, in which I need to a whole heckuva lot of stuff, half of which I didn't need to do about 36 hours ago.
But I suppose I should try to go to sleep. Which, in this instance, means laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and freaking out. But at least I'll be in bed, so if I start hyperventilating or something and pass out, at least I'll be in the right spot.