...standing up there paralyzed on the gymnasium stage in Dell City, Texas ready to say my poem for UIL Poetry, but I could only remember the title of the poem and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. I might have won if everyone else had gone blank on their poems, too. For a good 25 years after that, it terrified me to get up in front of people, and I have a good resume of humiliating myself time and time again, or avoiding getting up in front of people at all costs if I could help it.
On Friday, we were in a courtroom in Waco, Texas to watch my granddaughter participate in a mock trial in front of a real judge and a jury made up of three adults, two of whom were actual lawyers. They all had given up an entire work day to listen to these students (average age of 14) defend and prosecute an actual case from history. The students were not allowed to look up the verdict or anything about the case other than the evidence they were given about it. The teams were from Austin, Waco, and Abilene, and our kids were up against Waco first.
The judge was awesome, making everyone do a chicken dance to loosen everybody up. He knew this was nerve-wracking for all involved.
Each team would try the case as the prosecution and a second time as the defense. Our team played the role of prosecutors on their first trial. We all were told at the beginning that no matter what the jury decided, there were no winners or losers. But the very confident Waco team pretty well shellacked us on all fronts.
One of our young ladies froze up on the closing argument, and the judge decided to give everyone a five minute recess to let her gather her thoughts. We came back, and she froze up again for what seemed like an eternity, and everybody's heart went out to her. The judge finally closed the case, and the jury left to deliberate.
When the jurors came back, it was no surprise that they decided for Waco, although I thought the defendant was guilty as sin. The prosecution failed to prove her guilt, though. Each of the jurors shared their critiques of everyone on each team-- praising them for what they did right; and telling them what they could do better.
And each one of them addressed this precious young lady who couldn't get a word out on her closing argument. They told her that they had all experienced what she had-- and that God had a plan for her life. She sat with her head down, crying softly. The last one to speak was one of the lawyers. He talked to her for a moment, calling her by name, and then stopped and told her to look up at him.
I couldn't even look at her to see if she did, my eyes were riveted on the man. I felt like he was talking to the 10-year-old in me that had forgotten her poem up on stage in front of those judges all those years ago. And the teenager who just about fainted when she had to get up in front of the FHA Chapter in high school, and the young singer in the church choir who felt like a big wad of cotton filled her mouth from the fear that somebody might be watching her. And the college student who shook so badly trying to make a presentation, she could hardly hold the poster board. And many other terrifying experiences.
The lawyer said that God doesn't use hammers or wrenches to work on us. He uses experiences like she just went through. He called it a trial by fire, and that we all will go through them as God molds us and shapes us. He told her what they were doing that day, which was deciding someone's fate, was one of the most difficult things they could do. He commended her for her courage, and the fact that she stayed in there with her team. He spoke longer, and I cannot remember exactly what else he said, but it was one of the most inspiring and encouraging talks I'd ever heard. I kept thinking, how I wish someone had said those words to me all those years ago.
You should've seen that young lady during the second trial. She was a different person-- so confident and eager to play her role. The jury came back with a split decision, deciding in favor of our team.
I realized that God even uses a young girl's awkward moment for a greater purpose. We never would've heard the most important message of that day if this young lady hadn't frozen up. I'm sure I wasn't the only 10-year-old grandmother or mother or father sitting in those seats that day.
No comments:
Post a Comment