Testimony

I hate testifying. I always have. It is one of those things that is contrary to everything there exists in me. To go up in front of a large group of people and make a unrehearsed confession of faith.
Well, today I knew I had to do it. I don't really know how I knew, but I did. I was sitting in my chair compiling every excuse in the book and out of the book to not get up. But I got up. I walked to the front of the room and sat down in a chair. Could everyone else hear my heart pounding so loud making a ringing sound in my ears? Could they see the way my legs shook under me? I couldn't have been more nervous. But I arose and gave my testimony, fumbling, stumbling, bumbling, blubbering, stuttering, an incoherant mess. I have always wanted one of those beautiful bell-resounding voices, but I fear I am not gifted with one.
But when I returned to my spot, my heart had slowed and my breathing was regular. A weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Satan has been defeated. He tried with everything he had in him to keep me in my seat. But I didn't listen. I defyed the serpant who consumes peoples' souls and then throws them aside. He will have no power over me because I will not listen to him.