On Friday night, I lost my voice in front of 3,000 people.

I may have swallowed wrong.

It may have been a response to the smoke machine.

But I opened my mouth in the middle of a prayer, and for a second, nothing came out.

To make matters worse, for that same second, I couldn’t breathe.

So I had reasons to be uneasy in general. In front of crowd, however, I was more than a little troubled.

The National Social Anxiety Center says that people rank public speaking as their number one fear. Death comes in second[1]

Jerry Seinfeld pointed out that this means that at a funeral, people would rather be in the casket than delivering the eulogy.

I don’t know about that.

I do know that over roughly 35 years of public speaking, I have experienced most of the disaster scenarios.

I have lost my train of thought.

I have forgotten memorized material.

I have gotten tongue tied, and accidentally said an inappropriate word, or stumbled into a double entendre I didn’t anticipate it until I spoke it in the moment.

I have shared jokes that bombed.

I have had iPads go blank, and paper fall to the floor.

I have tripped over power cords.

I have been heckled by hostile listeners, and oblivious children, and even animals.

I have had to ignore people who were glaring, or laughing, or talking in a way that seemed like it was oppositional or unkind.

I have learned at the end of the speech that I had something on my face, or in my hair, or experienced any one of a number of troubling wardrobe malfunctions.

Anything can happen when you are in front of people. That’s why preparation, and details, and backups matter. And each time you stumble, you learn.

There is, however, something uniquely troubling about being in a packed house, in a livestreamed event, with eyes, and cameras, and pressure on you, opening your mouth, and having nothing.

And this moment, for me, is a metaphor.

The Apostle Paul said we^[“glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.”

The Prophet Mike Tyson said “everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.”

And there are moments in life when we, literally, figuratively, or symbolically get punched in the face, in front of an audience. When we get slapped in public, while doing our job. There are moments when life derails your plans, and you are suddenly unable to continue, with the world watching.

And at that moment we have a choice: will we fold, or will we finish?

We may be in a physical battle.

But more than that are our mental and emotional battles.

We can panic.

We can conclude that all is lost.

We can focus on our image and the harm we think it is suffering.

And all of these can encourage us to quit.

Or we can take one more step.

We can throw one more punch.

We can regroup.

On Friday night, after choking for a second, I took a limited breath, and persevered.

And then named the moment: I may be losing my voice, but I’m going to finish this prayer.

And It wasn’t instant.

But suddenly I had more fire than before.

I had more focus than before.

I had more to say than before.

And I finished, warts and all.

You may run across the finish line.

You may lose a shoe.

People my laugh at you.

Those same people may start cheering for you.

It doesn’t matter how you start.

It matters how you finish.

And sometimes it just matters _that_ you finish.

Today, I pray you finish.

And I pray you finish well.

[1] 1. “Public Speaking Anxiety,” National Social Anxiety Center, January 23, 2023, https://nationalsocialanxietyc....