Quick caveat for any who don't realize this: What I'm writing here is pure conjecture- not doctrine. Our opinions and speculation are just that. Maybe inspired, but don't assume I'm speaking for the church. I'm not.
Sometimes my family actually manages to have scripture study together. Hooray for us, we read together tonight and then had a discussion that went from interesting to profound, thanks to my children.
We read Helaman 5 tonight. Feel free to go read it. I'll wait.
This is mostly for my personal use in the future, because I can barely remember what happened last week without checking my calendar, and one day I might wonder, "What year did I actually, in fact, lose my mind?" and I can skim through my blogs and hopefully find it. The date, not my mind. That's long gone.
Lately I've been thinking about this question a lot. I've also been thinking a lot about the nature of sin, but I think that's for another post.
By the way, if you don't speak "Mormon" and want me to translate any of the jargon in this post, comment below. I think most of my readers are LDS, so I'm not going to worry about it as I write.
For over 3 years now, I've been serving as the Ward Primary Chorister. I deeply love these kids, especially my little fan club of 3-5 year olds in the front rows. They warm my heart and I love singing with them. However, it is a decidedly exhausting calling, and usually by Sunday (even before church) I'm just about falling over from fatigue, and then I push through primary with a smile on my face and singing my throat dry and then I go home and collapse for a while. Every. Sunday. (I'm currently working toward a solution to my fatigue, but I'm not there yet.) And every Sunday I feel all mixed up with both extreme tiredness and happiness. Dread and love. I don't get excited for this calling anymore-- not only am I physically tired, but I'm feeling a bit burned out. More than a bit...
Yesterday, my humble LDS* Ward* choir performed our Christmas program. It is an incredibly beautiful, touching cantata by Nathan Howe titled "Come and Behold Him". I sing soprano and my two teenage sons sing bass.
Let me mention here that they both started coming to choir under protest. My oldest (the golfer/wrestler) was convinced by a couple of his mentors (his fishing mentor, David Allen, and his Boy Scout mentor, Tarren Monsen) to come along. Also one of his best friends sings bass, so that helped. My second son (the self-proclaimed "geek") was called* to play piano for the choir, trading off with another pianist. He did not play the piano for the cantata, and had to be cajoled into singing, but he did end up participating, and they both were wonderful. Luckily, our sopranos stand immediately in front of the basses, so I got to hear them.
