I Don't Want to Talk About It

...But I have to.

Last Sunday, I was called by a member of our stake presidency. He asked if I was aware that the next weekend was stake conference, I told him I was. He then asked if I was aware that Saturday night was the adult session. I told him I was. He followed that up with, "Are you planning on attending?" I told him I was. He then lowered the boom--he asked me to speak.

My internal reaction...

NOOOOOOOOO!

But of course I said, "Yes."

Well, that was last night. All I will say about it for now was that it was a huge trial of my faith. I read and pondered and wrote all week.

I went to weigh in yesterday morning at six and didn't stay for the meeting. I drove my car to a parking lot and prayed. I felt the impression that I should just go home that I would be given the words that I needed to say. Did I listen? Nope. That was just too uncomfortable, so I stayed in the car, prayed and wrote down everything that came into my head. It was an okay talk but much too long. I knew it wouldn't do. Oh, I'm so stubborn!

I tried all day to get my final thoughts on paper. I had written part of the talk back on Tuesday. It was great. Could I find that notebook that had all of those notes in it? Again, no.

Well, I continued through the day trying with everything I had to get it done. A plate got broken in the kitchen, and I knew I should have been keeping track of my family. About fifteen minutes later, the five-year-old yells, "Maaaahm, T's breaking eggs on the kitchen floor!" Ugh! That was it. I knew I was done trying. I went to my room to have a good cry.

So, I went. The stake presidency must have seen the "deer in the headlights" look in my eyes when I entered the stake office for prayer meeting.

Anyway, I had fasted all day, I had had a blessing, but I hadn't trusted the Lord like I should have. What a chicken!

I took a notebook full of notes--quotes from conference, but other than that, I said what came into my head.

In the blessing, I was told that the words that would come to me might not be the ones I had prepared, but they would be the words that would be needed.

So, I did it. I only remember a few things that I said. When the meeting was over, I grabbed Z's hand and gor out of there as fast as I could.

When we got to the front of the church, an older brother from another ward, whom I just love--he had done some work on our house when we did our construction project, called over to my husband. He shook his hand then he put his arm around me and said, "When I saw your name on the program, I was so glad. You are so special." I said thank you and started bawling. I felt so dumb. I couldn't stop the tears and didn't know why they were there.

I cried all the way home. Zan was worried. He kept asking what was up. I didn't have an answer. It was like some kind of huge emotional release--like I didn't even know that I had been carrying such a load, and the dam broke.

Today is the general session of conference. I know if anyone comes up and says anything about last night I will cry. I just don't want to talk about it.