A train idling at the station, and I'm supposed to give the sermon

I'm standing on the platform, but the train is already there—doors open, nobody inside. I'm holding my notes, but the ink has run together, and I can't read a single word. The station clock says 11:57, and I know the service starts at noon, but I can't get on the train. I wake up with that same quiet dread, the kind that sits in your chest like a cold stone.