I can’t recall a Sunday in my adult life when I’ve left church without feeling edified and uplifted. Today was no exception. For starters, there was the Primary program, and I, like all of the other women in the chapel, had to dab the tears from my face a couple of times. The sweet voices of the children as they sang the hymns they’ve so diligently practiced with their leaders tenderly touched the hearts of all present. “A Child’s Prayer,” can penetrate even the toughest of veneers.
I didn’t take notes on the words spoken by the children, but I recall one line in particular that I need to remember: “Teach the gospel by the life you live.” A double blessing for me was knowing that my three adult children will be treated to (or already have been) the same spiritual program and be reminded of the same basic principles. Seems like yesterday when they were participants; now my grandchildren are. I wish I could be there to hear Braden’s little talk and watch him sing with his Primary buds.
On to Sunday School. I’m currently teaching the teaching development course, a sequence of 12 lessons on topics essential to effective gospel teaching. Although I’m a teacher by profession, I always feel a little anxious about my Sunday morning lessons. Despite praying, pondering, and studying, I always feel some apprehension until we actually get going. I love my class, though, and we’re all learning together. Today we discussed the principle of “diligent learning,” and each of them shared something he or she had learned since last week because of going the extra mile in study and prayer. Queen Esther, King David, Mary (the mother of Christ), Zoram, and Alma were a few of our scriptural characters that came more to life this morning.
Relief Society topped off the morning, and one of the many things that Sister Osteen mentioned was the importance of “holy places.” That caught my attention, especially since I realize that my home and even my heart and mind can be holy places depending on what I allow into them. Then there’s the fact that Relief Society is such a great organization for good and that I get to participate in it every Sunday. As I sat there among my “elect” friends this morning, I wondered how my daughters and daughter-in-law were enjoying their meetings. My thoughts then wandered to Torreon, Flagstaff, Madrid, and London as I visualized women there learning and singing and worshipping just as I was. Regardless of age, race, ethnicity, location, or social status, we’re truly all “sisters in the gospel.”
One of the things we discussed in Sunday school was how Alma was distressed over how the Zoramites left their synagogues after their day of worship and never picked up their “religion” again until the following week. We vowed to try our best not to have a Sunday kind of religion but instead one that followed us to our homes, places of employment, and even Wal-Mart. I hope I can follow through.