Witnessing at Work?!?

I'm going to soon have to engage in public speaking.

The prospect has brought to mind so many instances in the past where, in attempt to "master" fear, I would delve head-first into situations which were impossible and utterly terrifying.

Like bartending in the French Quarter.

And living in New Orleans, in general.

For someone who has struggled with social anxiety since the age of 8, both bartending and living in a city where crowds of people shut down traffic with regularity are impossibilities.

Before surrendering to Christ and learning to walk in His strength, though, I did a lot of things to spite fear--to "keep myself in check," so that I wasn't completely  and constantly paralyzed by panic. There was a progressive bit of going from one fear to the next.

Like, with my first job, it was beyond what I could manage just to have to answer the telephone and speak to people I didn't know. Next job, I did telemarketing--even incorporating sales, which never was appealing and never will be.

And moving to Florida was both a fleeing from abusive and destructive family circumstances (while simultaneously entering a more abusive circumstance, initially)...and a running toward what I had hoped would either be happiness or death--either way, I wanted totally out of the middle of the cycle of pain and loathing. Fear of being elsewhere and of entering more deeply into a very abusive relationship wasn't even much a concern, against the backdrop of such total, painful chaos as had erupted in family.

Then, a few years later, moving to New Orleans was somewhat an attempt to live a dream life of being able to socialize without rejection (folks there being so diverse that surely I'd be accepted, despite quirks)...hope of finding a home, in a land of misfits. Despite fear. And living there quickly became an exercise in experimenting with different avenues to find "meaning" and "fulfillment," even through directly confronting my worst fears. As another example, I tried acting--did a few things as an extra, was cast in a local production...and was then very glad the production relocated to California, post-Katrina. Getting jobs in the service industry was also on the same line, as they require fairly fluid interaction with people.

And after waitressing was dealt with, I endeavored bartending in the French Quarter for a couple years. That was pretty inconceivable. Terrifying: You're the captive audience and the host(ess), every evening--responsible for entertaining, forging connections, and navigating every sort of conversation conceivable.

And there was some part of those jobs which was very much like acting, despite some persistent, underlying degree of sincere desire to meaningfully relate to others and care for them--no idea how totally tainted by sin, on the whole, nor any idea whether any good intent was genuinely salvaged, sincere, by prevenient grace (if that concept is even legit...given His grace extends to everyone in varied ways, regardless whether salvation is ever received).

But life in general, but especially in New Orleans, consisted of a lot of steps--one to the next--intentionally attempting to dethrone fear. Moving toward danger, usually, as the means attempted. But continually doing much which terrified me, of social situations, primarily. And also doing things like walking dark areas past midnight, even if infrequently, as an act of rebellion against fear. All of which still equated to being controlled by fear, if per continually endangering and spiting myself so as to defy it. And, as part of that all...I was likewise confused about the idea of conscience--thinking it something that similarly needed to be defied into silence, along with fear.

So much recklessness. So much sneering and scoffing and raging in the face of God. Any love there was for others was so tainted by my own perception of what was "good" for them, it had to have been utterly destructive, except that perhaps the Lord saw fit to give grace, still.

In some capacity, though, I know He did still have some sort of active influence in my life--openly. Once, I distinctly recall arguing a case for Jesus's existence and divinity with a girl I'd just met after Katrina, first time we were ever alone in one another's company. We never spoke of Him after that, though. And that was certainly uncharacteristic of me, for that period, to take any open stance regarding Jesus...let alone, to argue the case for truth.

And there was another instance, regarding Him, earlier that same year. I still don't understand, so it seems best to just let it be. It's enough to remember.

There are so many things I don't understand, of bits and pieces which are so clearly interventions throughout life. I didn't surrender to Him, acknowledging Jesus for who He is, until mid-spring 2014. That doesn't make sense, given all the many times He'd revealed Himself prior to then. So wretched.

And it seems so weird to me that so much of the ability to interact without being crippled by fear has been taken away, as part of walking in light of Truth. There are still definitely moments when anxiety evaporates, but not expected. And almost never completely while in church, oddly--except for sometimes...sometimes...during worship or during a message which is particularly driven by the Lord's Spirit, riveting all thought unto Christ.

There's something, though, of pressing into the Lord under strain of circumstances which are otherwise completely overwhelming--something of relying upon Him in the face of total incapacitation--which makes it such that anxiety is evaporated under weight of His guiding peace (even if imperfectly heeded). But even that's been somewhat irregular, except for rare instances of interaction with particular others or in particular circumstances as have utterly overwhelmed and pressed unto abject reliance upon Christ for deliverance so to even be able to speak.

And then, there are instances where empathy or love or a sense of desiring goodness overcomes in such a way that speech flows without inhibition, almost as a plea or rejoicing unto the Lord--pressing into Him for help and succour, in great joy and love, while simultaneously reaching out to others as through Him. That's perhaps not a very good way to explain it, but I don't really know how. It's just being overcome with love and goodwill per urgent, overwhelming desire to share of the Lord for a moment...or something like that. But there are words which overflow, then.

And then, sometimes, there's a staggering, flailing attempt to speak--pleading with the Lord for help, silently, while being overwhelmed and nearly incapacitated by anxiety.

So...

...I stumbled through public speaking in my previous life. And I forced my way through it--even terrified--eventually reaching a false peace, having become "accustomed" to the terror and continuing in spite of it, so much even as to have begun to almost relish it as such an easy means to spite myself.
Circumstances made it necessary to speak in front of crowds of hundreds. Maybe a couple thousand, at one instance. Not sober always, though sometimes. And there's been musical performance in front of crowds, too--even more intimidating.

But I've never given testimony in front of a crowd, despite being thrice requested to do so in churches, within first year having come to know Christ. He didn't give me peace with the idea, though. But the idea was tempting rather than being something prayerfully revered--the idea of speaking in front of a congregation has been very tempting, despite anxiety. But I've not had peace with it, and still don't. So, I won't.

Which makes it seem so very strange that work is requiring compilation of "my story" for presentation. A group of seven of us, in total, are preparing "our stories."

Speaking Christ's name at work has been very prayerfully endeavored, though--still not as openly done as would be preferred. But surprisingly well received, all considered. And I don't suppose you can really tell someone how to tell their story, can you?

In one statement, though, to assert having experienced life change per realization of the existence of absolute truth, per entering (right) relationship with God, and then to identify Him as Christ...?
At work. As part of work. For work. And to share with others, for work?

So weird.

And I've been slacking these past few months on studying apologetics, to note. So much else going on. But started studying again, yesterday.

One supervisor was present as part of today's activities.
And the executive director stopped in, to meet with us--so, there'll be that already, too.
And the guy who's in charge of orchestrating this particular company venture made sure to let us know we may be asked to speak in front of government assemblies, civic groups, shareholders, fellow employees, and any or all groupings of the general public.

So. I'm just going to not think very broadly about any of this presently underway. Because to do so would likely end with being panic-driven out into the middle of the woods, right now, shrieking in terror. It's okay to mention what's happened, kind of, and mention what's been said, sort of. But can't think.

And I refused to even openly regard any of this as going on, upcoming, until mid-day Sunday. Any prior acknowledgment would have entailed allowing opportunity for all sorts of panic to set in, as so far in advance thus too far from being in a position to have experienced surrender to the Lord in the midst of the process being underway.

Today, though, I didn't lose my job. And I didn't exactly proselytize. But I spoke plainly, although still without being as direct as could have been done. And I don't know if that's well or not. But the fellow in charge told us we're not supposed to read what we've written verbatim off the page--he's fully expecting us (even requiring) "ad lib" according to the audience and whatever "feels right" at the time of any presentation.

That's a lot of leeway.

Just...I used to "fake my way" through a lot of stuff like this--pretending I had courage, grinning and bearing my way through things by refusing to acknowledge fear and simply diving into it headfirst.

That's not so much been a thing possible, since knowing the Lord. He lets me be incapacitated by anxiety, and then I can either press in to His presence or have a nice bit of nervous breakdown: Either trust Him or fall apart...and then trust Him, once I've again found myself shattered but resting securely in His hands.

And there's still some confusion in my thoughts, over how all that works. And there likely will be confusion, until we're no longer seeing through a glass darkly, but seeing face-to-face.

But...this development at work?
I'm entirely taken aback.
And the anxiety, while massive, is somewhat held in suspension by gratitude for the opportunity to openly speak of Him and what He's done in my life with more people. There were seven there today, apart from me. That's seven whom I've now witnessed to of Christ and truth, if even in small part, more than yesterday.

And there may be more, Thursday.
And fellow orchestrating the all mentioned filming us, Thursday.
Which...is terrifying.
It's one thing to intentionally go on camera as part of an acting gig--terrifying, in itself. But this?

I mean...I can't do any of these things, anyway. So, who cares, right?
Just--whatever the Lord wills.

Please pray I'll have boldness accompanied by His Spirit to speak plainly the words He would have me speak--to honor Him without regard to fear of man. Doesn't mean I have to go and make a blatant and urgent plea for surrender to Christ, though I long to do so...but as He wills, not as I would have it.
He's called me to be a witness, for some reason?

I'm such a wretch, is all.

And it's difficult to know how much to say, when anyways listening to anxiety rather than trusting the Lord. And then sometimes I say way too much, under pressure--even just talking about some of the things that have happened is too much, sometimes.

I don't believe it's wise or necessary to give full disclosure, in general. Not everyone needs to know everything.

I mean--I don't need to know everything, for sure. Otherwise, the Lord would give me fuller knowledge of at least circumstances relevant to me, right? But He hasn't. And it's not because He doesn't care. And it's not because He's less than honest. He knows what's best. And He's just--even if His ways don't seem fair (continuing to pray for further explanation of this). And His will is good, even when there's dire suffering and abject isolation and torment come part of it.

As an example, I'm still convinced that if I were less tormented, I'd be a lot more apt to still be entirely reckless in all ways. Instead, grief and torment force greater dependence on the Lord with increased constancy and to increasingly significant degree: The whole "finding myself a shattered mess, over and over again, then realizing every shard and fragment is resting securely in His hands"-bit?--yeah, all about trust.

And maybe eventually I'll be broken enough that He will have made me whole (in Him).

That's something to hope for, at least--in the midst of uncertainty, pain, grief, loss, torment, and sorrow.

While increasingly longing to love like He loves, too. Whereas, if like with Kintsukuroi every increasingly shattered bit of me gets further repair with such gold as (refinement of faith) unto ever more encompassing, unwavering abiding in Christ--such that Jesus is more greatly evidenced since His love is more comprehensively realized and experienced for more wholly comprising and sustaining all which I am, as all the more I'm demolished, devastated, and destroyed is to only be increasingly built up of Him--then, I hope He grinds me to dust. And I'm still just reckless and foolhardy enough, in and through love of the Lord, as to believe He'll do it--for love of me and for love of others.

So be it, then. Whatever comes.

Still praying about so many things. He'll lead. That's all there is.

I will trust the Lord:
I do trust Him. I have trusted Him. And I will trust Him.