Invitation? or sneak attack?

I've faced two out of three of my greatest church fears: being RS president, and working in the nursery. One was definitely as bad as I thought it would be. The other, not bad at all. In fact, I really, really liked it! You can guess which is which.

Now, I've faced the third. Being "invited" to share my testimony during Ward Conference. My bishopric knows that I won't give a talk, they stop asking. I tell them, "I'll pray, teach a lesson, take a meal, whatever you ask, but I can't give a talk." But Stake Presidencies don't know me that well. For the last 18 months, I've felt pretty comfortable that I was too new for any of them to know my name, so I wouldn't get an invitation. I guess invitation isn't quite the right word . . . more like Shock & Awe. I always sit in those conference meetings trying to look as invisible as possible. Crossing my fingers helps, but I forgot this time. When they called my name, seriously, my first thought was "I wonder what would happen if I got up and walked out?" The bishop was speaking first, so I had that much time to pull myself together, then it was my turn. The hardest part is right at the beginning when my shaking fear drives my tears, then the tears drive my embarassment, the embarassment causes trembling and more tears. It's all a vicious cycle . . . A cycle I hope to avoid for another 42 years.