I had a special experience on yesterday. I'd been thinking for a few weeks that I needed something to concentrate on improving about myself. I thought often about looking for more service opportunities, but always ran into the inevitable time commitment issue. I couldn't chew anything more than I'd already bitten off. I do find opportunities enough among my friends, I think, and I want to really focus on being a good visiting teacher.
This is a strange time. I still feel like there are dozens of little chores here and there that need to be done before I'll feel settled in my house, but I can't let that busyness halt my spiritual progression. I can't come out of this and find myself in another spiritual crisis because I've been neglecting my needs. So, when I realized late Saturday night that it was Fast Sunday, I decided I would pray for guidance in what I needed to focus on. Simple enough.
The answer came as soon as the testimonies began. I was reminded of something I decided in January, that I really wanted to share my new found happiness in the Gospel with others. Missionary opportunities are few and far between for me, unfortunately. But for the first time in my life, I felt like I could confidently and honestly testify that living the Gospel of Jesus Christ in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints brings me unqualified joy. Back in January I decided that the first step in opening myself up to missionary opportunities was to bear my testimony as often as possible, at least once a month. I bore it in a talk in January and I bore a piece of it in institute class in February. March was when I lost sight of my goal. And now, in April, the Spirit reminded me of this decision. What a blessing it was.
At first I told myself it was too intimidating to bear my testimony in such a big ward where I knew so few people, but I had a feeling telling me I had to get up. Surprisingly, it wasn't that coercing pounding of the heart, as I have experienced in the past. It was the same feeling I feel in institute when I realize how much I need the scriptures in my life, that craving for spiritual edification that I almost feel can never be quenched. This time I knew how to quench it, though. I knew that if I didn't get up I wouldn't feel a physical reaction, I would just be terribly, terribly disappointed. I would feel undernourished. I knew that bearing my testimony was the only thing that would satisfy that craving. So I thought for a little about what I would say, and I got up and said it. A small, calm testimony sandwiched in between two emotional tell-alls. The change in tone always feels jarring to me, but I will never be the person to exhibit my deepest feelings over a pulpit. Perhaps one day I'll get to the point where my testimony doesn't feel like a recitation, but perhaps I don't need to. No matter how stilted, it's just as honest as if I were pouring tears the entire time. It penetrates my heart just as deeply as if I had used the most eloquent language to express it. I may not inspire my neighbors to new insights, but I am blessed for testifying of Christ and His Gospel.
Then after church, I got a text from the sister missionaries of another ward. They had me recommended by others in their ward to accompany them to teach a less active member. I had planned to go with them twice, but the appointment fell through both times. Finally, they had a dinner appointment set up with this brother, and I was able to go with them. I've never thought I was particularly good at fellowshipping others (it's hard enough to make friends, period), but we had a really nice experience last night. I hope I can introduce him to more single adults in the stake so he'll feel welcome and more support to make the changes he needs and embrace the Gospel. It's exciting to maybe be able to help someone and be part of this work.
This is a strange time. I still feel like there are dozens of little chores here and there that need to be done before I'll feel settled in my house, but I can't let that busyness halt my spiritual progression. I can't come out of this and find myself in another spiritual crisis because I've been neglecting my needs. So, when I realized late Saturday night that it was Fast Sunday, I decided I would pray for guidance in what I needed to focus on. Simple enough.
The answer came as soon as the testimonies began. I was reminded of something I decided in January, that I really wanted to share my new found happiness in the Gospel with others. Missionary opportunities are few and far between for me, unfortunately. But for the first time in my life, I felt like I could confidently and honestly testify that living the Gospel of Jesus Christ in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints brings me unqualified joy. Back in January I decided that the first step in opening myself up to missionary opportunities was to bear my testimony as often as possible, at least once a month. I bore it in a talk in January and I bore a piece of it in institute class in February. March was when I lost sight of my goal. And now, in April, the Spirit reminded me of this decision. What a blessing it was.
At first I told myself it was too intimidating to bear my testimony in such a big ward where I knew so few people, but I had a feeling telling me I had to get up. Surprisingly, it wasn't that coercing pounding of the heart, as I have experienced in the past. It was the same feeling I feel in institute when I realize how much I need the scriptures in my life, that craving for spiritual edification that I almost feel can never be quenched. This time I knew how to quench it, though. I knew that if I didn't get up I wouldn't feel a physical reaction, I would just be terribly, terribly disappointed. I would feel undernourished. I knew that bearing my testimony was the only thing that would satisfy that craving. So I thought for a little about what I would say, and I got up and said it. A small, calm testimony sandwiched in between two emotional tell-alls. The change in tone always feels jarring to me, but I will never be the person to exhibit my deepest feelings over a pulpit. Perhaps one day I'll get to the point where my testimony doesn't feel like a recitation, but perhaps I don't need to. No matter how stilted, it's just as honest as if I were pouring tears the entire time. It penetrates my heart just as deeply as if I had used the most eloquent language to express it. I may not inspire my neighbors to new insights, but I am blessed for testifying of Christ and His Gospel.
Then after church, I got a text from the sister missionaries of another ward. They had me recommended by others in their ward to accompany them to teach a less active member. I had planned to go with them twice, but the appointment fell through both times. Finally, they had a dinner appointment set up with this brother, and I was able to go with them. I've never thought I was particularly good at fellowshipping others (it's hard enough to make friends, period), but we had a really nice experience last night. I hope I can introduce him to more single adults in the stake so he'll feel welcome and more support to make the changes he needs and embrace the Gospel. It's exciting to maybe be able to help someone and be part of this work.
Thank goodness for you and anyone who "limits" their testimony to a brief, heartfelt statement of what they know to be true in the gospel. That is right in line with the letter from the First Presidency about what a testimony should include. Simple, direct testimonies are always much more moving to me. Like the primary songs in the Children's Songbook, their simple truths go straight to the heart and are accompanied by immediate spiritual confirmation.
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