Sunday morning came much too soon and I couldn't help but think as Chris tried his best wake me at 7:20am, that families with teenagers should be exempt from 9am church. Tired, grumpy, and not feeling the least bit spiritual, I snapped that I wasn't going and that I honestly felt the Sunday before was a waste of time and energy because I fell asleep in all three of the very dull meetings, I didn't learn anything, let alone feel the spirit, and I'd rather just stay home and sleep today. Ahhh, you're enlightened now that I've opened your eyes to my less than stellar self ;-).
However, once awake, it's practically impossible for me to fall asleep again, so I dragged myself and my attitude out of bed to begin the Sunday morning ritual of getting everyone else roused from deep sleep and respectable for church. We did quite well, managing to slip into our designated bench before the opening song had finished (we were running on time until, as we were walking out the door, Chris reminded Ryan that he had forgotten to tuck his "Jedi braid"/ "rat tail" up into his hair so it wouldn't be noticeable at the sacrament table - sigh).
It was fast and testimony meeting, and as we settled into our bench, swiftly handing out hymnbooks down the row to join the congregation in the final verse, I was glad to be there. It had been a "bleah" week and I had been in a funk of sorts, and as these things usually turn out, the Lord must have known exactly how to help me out of my slump . . . through the thoughts and actions of others.
As the meeting began, I was immediately touched by the beautiful and tender words spoken straight from the heart by a sweet 11-year old girl. Her simple testimony touched my heart and prepared my spirit to hear the thoughts from subsequent friends and neighbors who bore powerful witness of the truthfulness of the gospel, but more than that, words I needed to hear to bring me out of my funk and reevaluate my priorities so I can feel that pure joy and happiness that accompanies living a life dedicated to the gospel, my family, service to others, and strengthening my most important relationships, especially with the Savior.
Relief Society was wonderful and again, more wisdom and insights I felt tailored just for me from one of my favorite women in the ward. Her lesson focused on "finding joy" which obviously I had lost sight. I wasn't really looking to tell the truth and needed a swift kick in the pants to remember that life is supposed to be joyful, even with all the tests and trials that accompany mortality. So, even if my week was lousy, and even if my natural woman selfishness was getting the best of me, I could start fresh again and focus my priorities and commit myself to look on the bright side and stop complaining.
This morning as my hands were in prayer over my heart with the instructor's words reverberating in my mind, I bowed and whispered "namaste" in gratitude for the people in my life who are "walking me home" - gently guiding and directing me to become my best self as I continue to progress in this earthly existence with a joyful heart.