I stepped to the podium and gripped both sides with sweaty hands,

the expectant faces staring up at mine, ready for my words.

The burden on my heart to produce a nugget worth holding onto,

grew quickly as I surveyed the audience.

Then, I spoke.

without cheap jokes,

or identifiable cadence.

I thundered from point-to-point.

My goal was to show them who the Lord created me to be,

That we don’t all sound alike, have the same stories, or present the same.

When I finished,

I received no applause,

No pats on the back.

I accept that.

I’m not here to be something they know,

I exist to be me,

My original copy of Him.