Then said I, Ah, Lord GOD! behold, I cannot speak: for I am a child.                                                             -Jere. 1:6

I was thrilled when my first book was published in 1976, but my joy was short-lived when I learned that authors were expected to speak to groups. How was I ever going to do that? I used to get sick to my stomach just reading the minutes at my club.

My first speaking invitation came from my hometown church, where I'd been baptized and married. "I can't do it!" I wailed to my mother. She told me that there would only be a few ladies there: We could meet in the library and sit around a table, and I could speak very informally. Reluctantly, I agreed, but secretly I hoped there would be a terrible storm so I could cancel.

The day of my talk dawned clear, however, and a smiling lady I'd known all my life met me when I arrived at the church. She told me they had announced my talk in the paper, and a few other people had shown up. When she opened the door, I saw a crowd that looked to me like the five thousand Jesus fed! I nearly fainted right there. As I was being introduced, I prayed, Oh, Lord, You've got to help me. I'm shaking so badly I can't even hold my notes.

Above the loud pounding of my heart, I sensed His voice. He told me to read the first eight verses of the first chapter of Jeremiah. Then He said, Put your notes away and listen to Me.

I stuck the notes in the back of my Bible and desperately tried to find Jeremiah. After I read the first eight verses, I listened and began to speak the thoughts, pictures and memories He seemed to be giving me. I talked about things I had never planned to share with anyone. People nodded, smiled, laughed good-naturedly—even cried. When I finally sat down, an hour and a half had passed.

All these years later, I still don't like to speak in public. But when I have to, God still shows up to tell me what to say.

Lord, help me to trust You and enable me to share the message of Your love with others. Amen.        -Marion Bond West