I have been terrible about making it to church on time since we switched buildings. I need to be better about that. This morning I was writing in my journal and lost track of time. My clock suddenly said I had 15 min to get to church. My first thought was I could just go to another ward, who would really miss me that much. My next one was very uncharacteristic…what if I just didn’t go today. I almost laughed at that thought and jumped up and zoomed around the house getting ready! I found something to eat, and had a feeling to take some blank paper, and an old Journal that I used to take notes in at church. I had been meaning to put that journal in my church bag for awhile, and didn’t really know where it was. But I found it on the shelf above my bed, and shoved it in with everything else. I am a journal writer…I have about 30 something of them. I have been writing notes, thoughts and impressions and personal revelation down on little scraps of paper/ward bulletins for the past year. I thought it funny that on the Sunday I had 15 min to get ready I had to stop and pick up that journal. But I did, and ran out the door. I got to church just in time to hear the opening prayer in the foyer, then I grabbed a program and a hug from the cute greeters and sat down next to a random family in the ward. I don’t have a set pew, or normal place to sit since the new building…so I joke that I am getting a chance to bless and meet new people each week as I randomly sit with people. This week was the family of one of the Bishopric members. She looked at me a bit funny, I didn’t know why…probably cause I was late, maybe cause I hadn’t ever sat with them before.
I listened as the new Members were read into the ward, releases and sustaining taken care of, and a baby blessing. Just as we are opening up our Hymnals for the Sacrament Hymn I thought to myself how odd it is that there is only one speaker sitting on the stand. Then Suddenly I have this memory flood back of a phone call I got this week (when I was busy at work) asking me if I had ever had the opportunity to speak in church. I silently prayed that it was for next week as I hurriedly opened my program. There in black and white was my name, and I was the first speaker. I looked over at this sister I was sitting by and said whoops I forgot I was speaking today…now understanding the odd look she had given me earlier. With shaking hands I reached down and grabbed my scriptures, a pen, my little hymn book, and that journal. My topic was the Blessings of Service. I wrote about 10 words on the program, opened the journal and quickly scanned the pages. I found some notes I had taken from a Relief Society General Conference Oct 2008. Sister Julie B. Beck had given us council on the 3 fold mission of the church. I underlined some of my notes, and opened my scriptures to where I had been reading this week in Alma. Alma 17 was about the sons of Mosiah and Alma meeting up together and rejoicing that they were still men of God. Then it talks of Ammon and his service to the Laminites. The sacrament song ended and I closed my books and turned my thoughts to the sacrament. I said a big prayer and apologized for forgetting, and being a bit of a slacker. I begged God to help me to speak, and know the things that I should say, even though I didn’t have time to prepare as I should have. I was still shaking, and very nervous as we partook of the sacrament. And then as the conductor stood to announce the program I tried to smile my bravest, most encouraging smile. He looked over at me as he said we would be honored to first hear from…and he paused hoping/praying that I really would be speaking. I nodded my head and with relief in his eyes he said my name, and then the rest of the lineup.