A night with a General Authority.

Last night we got a babysitter. And just so you know, he's really great. His name is Bowen and he's one of those kids that is equally comfortable talking to 2 year olds and adults. He is truly a delightful person and I feel like I hit the jackpot everytime he's available to watch the "Hufford Four".

So Mark and I set out to go to a dinner and attend a satellite broadcast of "A Night with a General Authority" geared specifically at those that serve in CES callings (or jobs). Mark teaches early morning seminary, so there we were. The dinner was sourdough breadbowls and four different kinds of soups. I chose a chicken chili and once I polished that off, I headed back and refilled my bread with a 12 bean sausage concoction. Looking back, I feel that perhaps that was simply too many beans for one person and that's not even taking into consideration what happens to my digestive system whenever I'm out in public and feel even a small amount of pressure to be on my best behavior. It 's an inner storm. Is this too much information?

So we are sitting at a table with three perfectly nice couples that introduce themselves to us and within 2 minutes I've already forgotten their names. I wouldn't have felt too bad, but one gentleman is a seasoned conversationalist and uses my name multiple times. It's so obvious that I don't know his and I feel like I'm 13 years old. The evening progresses and we're having a pleasant time and then suddenly I look down and realize that I have eaten almost my entire bread bowl. I scan the table and am horrified to see that no one else has considered this a viable option. I must have looked like a Tyrannosaurus Rex ripping into that thing like a dead carcass.
Just lovely.

Dinner's over and Mark is talking "computer talk" with the seasoned conversationalist. I, however, have become fixated on the little dishes of mints on the table. They're the good ones. The ones that look like little pastel hersey kisses with white nonpareils on the bottom. I LOVE those. I consider how many I can take at once without risking a repeat performance of my bread bowl faux pas and if I might be able to slip some into my sweater pocket so I'll have something to tide me over during the meeting (food in the chapel! gasp!).

Eventually we make our way into the meeting with a couple dozen mints in my pocket. Don't be shocked. I considered grabbing the whole dish, but thought that might be pushing it. I was happy to hear the speaker would be President Henry B. Eyring. Is it just me, or is he a really fantastic speaker? He has a way of getting my attention and keeping it the entire time. I love how sincere and earnest he is and he has a gift for speaking with urgency and compassion. I look forward to what he has to say every General Conference. By the time he says "amen" I feel like I possibly haven't blinked in 20 minutes. I'm riveted.

The topic was, understandably, focused around how to more effectively teach the youth in their Seminary classes. In particular, what is required for the Spirit to be the true teacher in the classroom. And a couple things he taught stayed with me.

1. He said that not just the teacher must meet the requirements for the Spirit to be present and teaching, the student must also meet those same requirements. This explains so much about why I may not have felt strongly about something that seemed so profound to those around me. I now see that the burden of preparation for my church meetings lies as firmly with me as it does with the teacher/speaker. Maybe more so. If I walk away from the chapel feeling unfulfilled or undernourished, perhaps I haven't met the requirements to have the Spirit help me. Besides, I imagine He is in a much better position than the speaker to know when I have been given a momentary reprieve from my cheerio duties.

It also made me consider what a solemn responsibility I have as a mother to teach my children the skill of identifying the whisperings of the Spirit. If I do this effectively, it will help their testimonies to mature and strengthen as they remain ready and open to the teaching and guidance of the Spirit.

No pressure.

2. Praying for an individual is much more effective that praying for a group of people. Specifics work better that generalities. hmmmm.... I need to change the way I pray about/for my children. "Please help them to be good." isn't cutting it.

3. He talked about those that he had taught as a young seminary teacher. Specifically a couple young men that turned their chairs around every morning so that he was essentially looking at their backs every day. Years later, one of those men approached him with his own teenage son and was obviously a happy and faithful priesthood holder. Elder Eyring realized then that his prayers for that young man were heard and answered over many many years and largely without his awareness. He said that we must pray and then wait with faith. Pray and wait.

In my own life I pray for one of my children and I would really like to see the answers to my prayers ready and waiting first thing the next morning. Meggy screaming? Pray.... Sleep.... No more screaming in the morning. Seems ridiculous when I write it out like that, but I can't deny that that's what I'd like.

So, today I feel like I'm ready to pray and wait. Ready to prepare myself for my meetings in the morning. Ready to get specific with my Father about what's going on with my children.

You really can't beat a good night with a General Authority.

Good thing we didn't play hookie and go get Andy's.