Wednesday night, Mike and I were quietly minding our own business at home, eating some supper and watching The Simpsons, when we got a phone call from the 1st counselor in our ward. Of course that can only mean one of two things: new callings, or speaking in sacrament meeting. I could only hear Mike's end of the conversation, but I knew where it was heading, and it didn't sound good. "No, it's not too late. That's fine. I would be happy to. What is my topic? Yes. OK then. See you Sunday." *Click* "What did he say?" I asked hesitantly.
"Apparently I'm speaking in church on Sunday," Mike replied.
"What about me?" I asked.
"Looks like you're off the hook." *Whew*
I happily returned to my dinner and TV, when two minutes later the phone rang again. "Mike you don't need to answer it again...we're eating dinner," I said, because in the depths of my soul, my female instincts were screaming: "HE'S CALLING YOU BACK...YOU'RE GOING TO SPEAK TOO, YOU BLOODY IDIOT. RUN FOR THE DOOR!"
The smirk on Mike's face confirmed my silent fears. He answered the phone, and after another quick greeting passed the phone to me. "Hello?" I whispered. My heart rate started to accelerate. Of course you all know where this is going... "Sister Holdaway, we would certainly appreciate it if you could speak on Sunday." Actually, I'd rather pull out my toenails one-by-one and eat them, but what was I going to say? In the church we're taught to just to say, "Yes". I was backed into a corner. A helpless little kitten who had been trapped by a big, mean ogre. Of course I reluctantly agreed, and after I hung up the phone my stomach plummeted, and I lost my appetite. I was going to be in a perpetual state of panic for the rest of the week!
So, I ask myself, why is speaking (especially in Sacrament meeting) such a hard thing to do? You would think, that someone as loud and outspoken as I am would have no problems getting up in front of a group of fellow church-goers, neighbors, and friends, read a few scriptures, quotes and stories, and be fine. Not true! My palms start to sweat, my knees start to knock. Deep breathing through my nose, and out through my mouth only seems to make me dizzy. My mind goes blank. My tongue stumbles over words. I start to wonder what I'm even saying. I glance at the clock only to find that 2 minutes have passed. I can feel the eyes of the bishop boring into the back of my head, and the rest of the congregation in front of me: some half asleep, others quieting fussy babies, and the rest looking at me with dumb stares.
We are talking about a girl who was on a competitive debate team for two years in college. A team that was ranked #1 in the Nation among 2 year schools, and #25 amongst 4 year schools. I traveled the western U.S. to colleges and universities debating, speaking, and performing for hundreds of people. I brought home countless trophies and titles, winning over every judge with my razor sharp tongue.
I wanted to run into my room and take 20 of my anti-anxiety pills at the mere thought of a church talk. Why?
The only theory I can come up with, is that when you are doing public speaking or debating it's 90% B.S.. When you're speaking in church, you can't fake it. You can't fake the spirit. People either feel it, understand what you're saying, or they don't. There is no middle ground.
Of course we spoke last Sunday. I didn't die. Nobody fell asleep. I forgot to hit on a couple of points I had prepared, but other than that it came and went without much fanfare. I was still nervous, the process still sucked, but I realized after it was all over that there was one thing to celebrate. Speaking in church is sort of like a get-out-of-jail-free card. You get (at the least) a year off, maybe two from having to do it again.
8 comments:
A few years ago I spoke three times, two of which came in a three-week period.
The first came as a talk because they "hadn't heard from us for awhile".
The second - about four months later - was because I was the 2nd counselor in the Elder's Quorum presidency and two weeks later I was asked to speak as 1st counselor of the newly formed Elder's Quorum presidency.
As a member of the Bishopric (Executive Secretary), my Bishop asks me to speak whenever he feels like the ward needs to be called to repentance and for some reason, he thinks I'm the best man for the job.
Probably because he realizes that if he said the things I did, he would be hated. When I say them, however, most people will listen and say, "What does he know?"
I don't think that I will be called to speak again anytime soon...knock on wood...because last time I said that we needed to let our kids have fun and get dirty in the mud, and if you don't have kids get dirty with your husbands! -Pause- In the mud! I mean, nevermind! So embarrassing!! People are still talking about it.
Ha- ha!
You are so funny Megan! I swear, you should be an author, or writer for some womens magazine! You have such talent, I swear I thought I was reading in a novel.
Glad to see you back on the blog!
it's kind of like jury duty that way, isn't it?
I loved your thoughts on this subject!! You are hilarious and described exactly how I feel when I get called to speak. I tagged you by the way on my blog for 6 things nobody knows about you. You have probaly already done this but I haven't read it!!
Your talks were fab, and it's only gonna remind the Bish that you are the go-to guys when he's in a pinch, Oprah notwithstanding. Maybe if you plaster the back of the Hyundai with PETA stickers...
By some sweet act of god we got out of good bye hawaii ward talks, and welcome to UT talks. And it looks as though we will escape the good UT ward talks also....Carma is finally kicking in for us.....
hahahaha! Thats funny meg! Whenever I am asked to speak in church I seem to get up to the pulpit and blackout for the rest of the time. I never remember anything I said. Oh well, it's a good thing the mormons are so compassionate and understanding.
love ya!
aim
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