Sitting in my high school English class several years ago, I could have sworn that the hands on the clock on the wall never moved. I was watching it, I confess, hoping the bell would ring, signaling the end of class. Then I could escape for another day without having to stand in front of the class and read my book report.
In my late teens and early twenties, whenever I attended a Wednesday evening testimony meeting, I felt glued to my seat, even though I desperately wanted to get up and speak. I was so relieved when the service came to an end, so I could put off giving a testimony for another week.
Anxiety over speaking in public limited me from expressing myself, and I wanted to be free with all my heart. Later I learned that other people have had to struggle with this debilitating problem.
