I've tried to block out religiously embarrassing moments from my memory, but sometimes I remember that I once gave a sermon at my small fundamentalist evangelical church when I was fifteen.
The pastor was on vacation and things were desperate. There was no backup pastor. Who could possibly give a sermon?
How about the fifteen-year old homeschooler whose idea of a good time on a Friday night was to read the Bible and Calvinist theologians.
What did I talk about?
Something about how Christians should be joyful, which is hilarious because I was super depressed, sad, and lonely.
But I was good at pretending. So I pretended that Jesus was filling my life with joy.
I got a standing ovation.
Or maybe not. I've blocked it out.