Yesterday, after trying to explain what the Godhead is and how the Holy Spirit helps us in Portuguese to a 2 and 3 year old, helping color and glue, stopping tears, getting snacks, singing songs, I was tired. Not only was I tired, but I was alone. (Poor Sidnei had over worked himself all day and night Saturday and when I tried to wake him up on Sunday, he literally just didn’t even stir. Not even a little bit. So I let him be.) Walking up the stairs to the (hello I am drawing a blank here..the more I learn Portuguese, the more I forget English words) place where we take Sacrament (isn’t there a word for that room?) I had decided that I would just take the Sacrament and drive home.
As I was sitting in Sacrament, I was watching the same little boys that I had just taught, running up and down the aisle…and I thought, I should pull him aside and ask him if he thought the Holy Ghost would like him running around during Sacrament. And then what do you know, that all knowing little voice said, “Maybe you should ask yourself the same question.” Meaning, should I really be taking off after Sacrament? Crrraappp.
So I stayed. Honestly, I’m so glad I did. Every month I’m always pleased that I listened to everyone’s testimony. I love watching how eager the kids are (primary and YM, YW) to get up and share their testimonies. I love the simple, yet profound statements that come from them. I honestly, really love listening to these people, so different from myself in so many aspects, who know and profess the same things I know and believe.
I am so grateful to have the gospel in my life. This gospel that creates similarities, that gives me a home away from home. It creates a love and friendship that I wouldn’t be able to find anywhere else. And I take comfort knowing that no matter where I am, no matter where I go, the gospel will be the same and I will always have instant family and friends.
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