A Podium - Scary Stuff

After reading Megan's blog, How to Jump in the Deep End, I felt inspired to do a little blogging myself this morning. (Thanks Megan!) If you follow Megan, you know how inspiring she can be. If you haven't read her stuff, you should go check her out.

I’ve never been the public speaker type. In high school I once took a zero for an oral report grade because I wouldn’t get up to read it to the class. Sad, I know. I have been known to say things like, “I can write a killer speech, but do not ask me to stand at the podium and read it.” (There’s just something about a podium that scared the bajeebers out of me.)

Well … I learned that a fear, even a long-time fear, isn’t necessarily a permanent one. Two years ago my Aunt asked me to do a reading at my cousin’s funeral service. My reaction was something like, “Me? You want ME to?” She said yes, but quickly added not if I’m uncomfortable, etc. I wanted to, God knows I did, but at that moment the fear had the bail on the tip of my tongue. I got a grip on it fast, and wouldn’t let myself take the out. I was honored that she asked me, that she wanted ME to do it. This was the funeral of her son – something I cannot fathom going through. It was important, and I didn’t want to say no. So I said yes, and went home with the printout of the reading and read it over and over and over forever before going to bed.

The next day at church my heart was beating a bit quicker than it normally does, and I found myself staring at that darn podium. I asked God to give me the strength to go up there and read this reading nice and clear to all of Kerry’s friends and family who came because they loved him so much. When I got the look/nod from the priest indicating it was my turn to go up, I stood up, walked down the row and up the aisle, climbed the steps, stood at the podium (insert scary music), and stared out at a sea of people all staring back at me. With the reading clutched tightly in my hand, I breathed … just fine actually. My heartbeat was normal.

I imagined (a more appropriate word would be – felt) the presence of God standing behind me, arms wrapped around me, with His face resting against the left side of my face. With a whispered “Okay, now go…” in my ear, I started reading. I think I spoke clearly. I felt choked-up but I know I didn’t cry. I remembered not to read too fast, and to pause in between phrases. I even looked out into the audience during the reading … a little.

That evening I saved the print-out in my Bible. It’s special to me mostly because I read it at Kerry’s service, but also because … I read it, at Kerry’s service. It was a turning point for me in the confidence department. A gift given to me by my Aunt, who doesn’t even know that she gave me something so special in a time of such heartache.

I’ve had to speak several times since then, and I’ve done just fine. Nobody ever makes fun of me. ...Imagine that. If you have the opportunity to face a long-time fear, give it a shot. You might be surprised at how well you do when you're no longer that scaredy cat from years ago.

Be blessed, everyone. LIVE your life. Take chances. Hug your kids. 
Jen