Daily writing prompt

What makes you nervous?

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There I was.

Sitting in the holy circle of folding chairs.

Minding my own business.

Things started out peaceful, as usual.

We’ve got coffee, highlighters, people nodding with purpose, and a light sprinkle of “mmm-hmm” to let the leader know we’re paying attention.

Let’s open our Bibles.

Okay. Things are moving right along.

And then it happens—someone says it:

“Let’s each take turns reading a few verses.”

“Today, we’ll be reading from 1 Chronicles, chapters one through five.”

My soul LEAVES my body.

EXCUSE ME?

My left eye starts twitchin’.

I look down and see a list of names that reads like someone smashed their elbow into a Hebrew keyboard.

And I know what’s coming.

It’s a full-on verbal obstacle course of names that were never meant to be spoken out loud by Texans who had two cups of coffee and half a banana.

I clear my throat like I’m about to read the Declaration of Independence.

I read the first name—

And I know I’m wrong.

I can feel the syllables setting me up.

I say something like:

“And so… Jehe…Jeh… Jehonama-nama-nama… begat Oba-sheba-shabba… and he begat… um… Alfredo.”

(That last one was absolutely not in there, but panic makes you say pasta.)

I try to recover by confidently reading the next line…

Only to meet a name with 14 consonants, no vowels, and an attitude.

Something like Maher-shalal-hash-baz,

which I’m pretty sure is either a biblical warrior or an IKEA dresser.

At this point, I’m sweating.

My mouth is dry.

And let’s be honest—those opening chapters are the biblical pronunciation equivalent of walking barefoot across LEGOs in the dark.

I look up, hoping for grace.

All I see are gentle smiles.

Supportive nods.

But the group is silent.

Sister Lorraine shifts in her seat.

Brother Ron snorts into his coffee.

So what makes me nervous?

Not public speaking.

Not confrontation.

Not even accidentally replying all.

It’s these syllables.

The tangled, tongue-twistin’, consonant-packed ones 

the ones that sound like a sneeze, a cough, and a pharmaceutical side effect all at once.

Because when I’m reading and it feels like I’ve just been prescribed Tilgath-pilneser twice daily with food,

that’s when I whisper…

“Jesus, take the syllables. I can’t.”