Realizations

So I have this calling. With the Young Women in our ward. And I love it. I would not want to be anywhere else in the church.

But I murmur.

I do. Just like those sinful characters that I can't name in the Book of Mormon. My husband is the B.O.M. buff, not I . (Yet another sin to chalk up on the board.)

It's not because I don't enjoy my calling, I do. I love the girls and I love the leaders. But I also love my time. My free time. And lately it seems that I have less and less of it.

Well the youth in our ward have been commissioned to serve in the Special Needs Mutual for the month of April. I was excited for the opportunity but in the back of my head I was murmuring. Another night (besides the normal Tuesday night activity) away from my hubby and my puppy.

Before I left for the first activity I even said to my husband, "This better be rewarding because I really don't want to go". Awful, I know! You would think I would have been struck with lightning right then and there.

But I wasn't.

And when I got home that night I realized that my cheeks hurt from smiling for 2 straight hours.

Last night one of the girls from our ward didn't come so I was paired up with her special needs friend. Usually there are enough youth that the leaders don't get friends so we sit in the back. But this time we were all interspersed throughout the chapel. And it made all the difference in the world.

We usually sing a few songs during opening exercises. My friend can speak, but not very well and not quickly. But that did not stop her, or another girl a few rows up who I don't think can even read, from belting their hearts out through song. It made me realize how grateful I am to have a voice that I can sing with. And that I shouldn't be embarrassed to sit next to my tone deaf husband on Sundays as he sings despite the fact. I have honestly never even thought about being grateful for something like that. Until last night.

The week before we had a lesson on exercise. During one of the demonstrations a guy in a wheelchair wanted to sit on an exercise ball. With a little help he moved from his wheelchair to the ball. It was then, as he was swaying back and forth on the ball, that I realized that he would probably love to be able to exercise. Me (and my murmuring self) I hate, detest and sometimes loathe going to the gym- but at least I can.

After I got home last night I sat with my husband, who had the opportunity to work with special needs people like these for a few years so I didn't even have to explain to him what I had realized. He already knew. And I was content, peaceful some might say. Which a HUGE deal for me. I wasn't worried about the dirty dishes, bills, or all of the things I need to get done this weekend. I was just content sitting on the couch snuggled up to my Mr.

So was it rewarding? Oh yeah.

Have I been put in my place? Oh yeah.