I PACED THE DARK HALLWAY AT our church, trying not to picture the crowd in the sanctuary and trying to listen to the speaker onstage instead. The sound system amplified his every word. My hands took on a life of their own, my fingers knotting around my notecards.
"You 're next, Shawnelle," someone whispered.
In a few moments I 'd be the one onstage at the mike, sharing details about the time early in our marriage that I 'd almost left my husband, Lonny. But it wasn 't the idea of exposing the personal stuff that made my breath come too fast and my heart hammer.
It was standing in front of people and speaking. Just me, alone in the spotlight, all eyes on me. Pollsters say people fear public speaking more than death.
I could see why.
I still had nightmares about the one big presentation I had to give in high school for oral
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And he was with me now.
Why did I think I was taking the stage alone?
The shaking stopped. My heartbeat slowed.
I took a deep breath and spoke into the microphone. "The counselor told us there was not much hope for our marriage," I said, my voice calm and steady. "But she was wrong."
I went on, talking about how God had moved in our lives, in our marriage. The more I shared about him, the more I forgot about me.
Before I knew it, I 'd finished telling my story. The spotlight felt like a warm glow. The audience clapped. I noticed someone wiping a tear from her eye.
Wow, did I do that? I wondered but I realized, no, it was God, being present with us all.
I returned to the hallway backstage and let out a huge sigh of relief, glad it was all over.
Then I heard one of my fellow speakers say, "Just think. We get to do this two more times."
I gulped. But I did say I would do anything, right? Well, here were two more chances.
I tried to visualize myself speaking confidently into the mike, but all I could picture was row after row filled with people staring at me.
SPEAKING UP Shawnelle 's dread of public speaking is shared by