The Accidental Speaker
One Widow’s Dance
April 26, 2024
My eyes travel from table to table, where spring flowers emit a sweet aroma. How is it that I have just been ushered to the head table? How is it that I am the featured speaker at a Christian Woman’s Club luncheon?
“The agenda is on your plate,” a smiling young woman informs me. “Just let me know if I can get you anything while you wait.”
“I’m fine,” I say, surprised at my quiet confidence. I am the featured speaker.
I shake my head and wonder.
How did this happen?
But I know the answer. Three years earlier, I entered a neighborhood church intending to join a Christian writing group. I found out about it online, and I was anxious to begin penning the story I was sure God called me to write.
An older gentleman approached me as I entered the fellowship hall. I shared my purpose for being there and watched his face fall.
“I’m sorry,” He said. “That group disbanded, but a Toastmaster’s meeting starts in five minutes. Perhaps you might like to join them.”
Public speaking? I felt my heart race and my hands tremble. I had taken speech in high school, but that was decades ago. Still, a verse from my morning devotional came to mind. Philippians 4:13 reminded me, ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.’
I took it as a sign. My husband had recently passed away, and I was sick of sitting at home night after night. It was easy to stay busy during the day, but loneliness took a toll on my sanity in the evenings.
I observed club members for weeks, reluctant to participate. Then, gradually, I took minor roles until my legs and voice no longer shook. Indeed, God had calmed my anxious heart.
I was brought back to the present moment with the introduction of a vocalist who was to provide entertainment before my talk. The opening notes of her song rang through the room, and a lump formed in my throat. Tears welled in my eyes. I was sure I was going to fall apart right then.
Lee Ann Womack’s country song “I Hope You Dance” is not sad. But it was one of my late husband’s favorites. The lyrics were his call not to miss opportunities in life—even while fighting cancer for decades. Despite his fragile health, he ensured we went to the beach, the mountains, and even Disneyland.
As he grew weaker, he wrote a letter to me, our daughters, and their families. He cited his wish that we could always give faith a fighting chance. And when we had the chance to sit it out or dance, he hoped we would dance.
I took a minute to process these thoughts. The song was perfect. I stood to speak, but I changed my opening remarks. I told the audience what the story meant to my late husband and our family. I glanced toward the singer and saw she was crying. I mouthed the words, “Sorry,” and then laughed with joy.
‘Look, Honey,’ I wanted to say to my hubby. ‘I’m dancing.’
Epilogue
I have been engaged in public speaking for three years now through different ministries and at local churches. I share how God is good even when times are hard. I talk about pain, rejection, and widowhood. I am honored that God allows me to encourage hurting women.
God also ensured I met a man who became my writing coach and pastor. My memoir, Pines in the Wasteland: A Story of Hope, is coming out soon.
IdaHope, the Christian Writing Group I tried to join years ago, is up and running again. I am a member and a critique group leader.
I cite Proverbs 13:12 as one of my favorite verses. “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” I want to meet you all at that tree in Heaven someday.
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