Even during marching band, where I blended in with 120 other students, I was nervous. Once, I even started playing during another boy’s solo. (Nate, if you’re reading this, I know I denied it, but it was me. I apologize.) I was so nervous I forgot that the whole group wasn’t supposed to play that part!
So you can imagine my hesitation about speaking in front of others on the Race. Preaching? [Insert fainting and running out of the church with wide, wild eyes.] I was nervous.
So after countless skits (I’m the nicest Goliath the Philippines have ever seen), songs (oh, Making Melodies, how I loathe you), teaching in Tanzania and a few times preaching and sharing, I figured I had grown a lot in this area. I was ready to speak in front of others here in Cambodia! Giving my testimony to a few college kids would be a breeze. Wrong.
I think we all walked out of that class a little worse for the wear.
First, let’s get the obvious out of the way: I talk really fast. It’s hard for me to slow down my speech, even for people who barely understand English. I like to get things done quickly- I even walk up and down escalators, figuring they help me get somewhere faster; they’re not just a free ride. So, I had to restart three times, after the pastor told me from the side of the room, “Well, I can understand you, but they can’t.” A perfect start.
Then I start telling my testimony. Growing up in a Christian home, but how I more tried to avoid God’s punishment than actually get in a relationship with Him. Finding His House in college. The World Race.
And then I thought I would give a recent example. My niece, when she was born, had her umbilical cord wrapped around her body and her neck. Had the C-Section been scheduled for any later, she could have died, strangled to death in the womb. God’s timing and providence, allowing us to have this precious little miracle. (I will say I thought the widened eyes while I said “C-section” and made a cutting action across my abdomen were kind of funny…)
Sounds great, right?
Except, it all took 8 minutes.
And when I looked at the board, here were the words on it: Testimony. Legalism. Auditorium. C-Section. Umbilical Cord. I also taught them “fetus”. Honestly, I also DREW a fetus on the board, along with an umbilical cord.
These poor people, who had no idea what I was saying anyway, learned THOSE words and left with that image of a fetus and its umbilical cord.
I couldn’t even help it: As I slunk back to my seat, I said, “Welp, it’s been fun. God bless.”
So, for some reason, the day after I gave this testimony, I volunteered to teach. Meaning that yesterday I taught the class. I taught English quite a bit actually in Tanzania, and so I just played on that. Comparatives and superlatives= so much fun!
My team will kill me if I say I did a bad job, so I’ll ackowledge that it went all right, except that THREE separate times that I wrote on my face with the whiteboard marker. (I’m not sure how it happened either!) Luckily, Marissa had her handkerchief/sweatrag with her, so she wiped my face clean for me. It was embarassing, but also hilarious, because the first time I did it, I looked up at the team and their faces all registered the same amount of shock and surprise at my try for a Charlie Chaplain mustache.
So, the moral is: My spiritual gift is not teaching!
