I once had an interview with a man who only knew the title of my book. Though he’d been sent questions ahead of time, he had forgotten about the interview when I’d called (and must’ve misplaced the questions). He decided to go ahead with it anyway, but I could tell he was angry about the whole thing.

His questions proved he didn’t know anything about the book, so I tried to steer him toward what it was really about. Every time I answered him (this was a taped interview, thankfully), he sneered back. “You’re sounding ridiculous. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

This went on for a good five minutes. I could feel the sneer, the roll of his eyes in his tone. “Let’s try that again. You’re making no sense.” His angry, annoyed words started affecting the way I answered questions. I panicked. Couldn’t say anything right (even though I’d just been told by another host I’d been one of her best interviews . . . Those words didn’t matter because this man’s words shouted louder in my head).

He finally stopped the interview and told me I was a terrible interviewee and that he didn’t have time for me. (Yep, this was a Christian station).

Later, I realized that God had a great lesson in this for me. My whole life I’ve nursed the Enemy’s voice that said things like, “You’re an idiot. You’re no good. You’re a bad mom. You’re a bad wife.” When I listen to that voice, I panic and start acting weird. Or I’m paralyzed. Only when I quiet that voice and listen to Jesus’ cheerleading voice, I can walk through life with confidence.

The mean radio announcer taught me that. When the Enemy whispers more discouraging words, I remember the announcer and how he flustered me. I take a deep breath. I quiet the voice and rest in Jesus. While He sings over me.