Fast Day
Yesterday was fast Sunday in our ward. There was a woman who bore testimony about how grateful she was to be able to sit in sacrament meeting and be a "participant" in the sacrament. It was a lovely testimony really, but I found myself secretly resenting her. I thought about just moments before rushing my sacrament experience. I was closely monitoring eager little hands diving into the sacrament plates trying to re-enforce the one piece of bread rule. Also praying more fervently that the plates would pass us without an incident of spewing sneeze coming from one of my little ones than for the salvation of my own soul. I do feel the Spirit in church, but it is usually quite brief and always interrupted. For this reason I am grateful one of the promises of the Spirit is to bring things to our remembrance. I often remember sweet strengthenings of my soul as they seem to be harder to engage in with my blessed distractions. Not that my blessed distractions do not strengthen me, because they do. It is just different. Different and good. My resentment for this sisters' words were soon turned to a reflection on my many blessings. That is what it is all about.