“A spiritual thought” and sundry forms of progress

One of the blessings of my calling, is that I get to attend correlation meeting with the ward mission leader, the missionaries, the high priest group leader, and the elders quorum president. The focus, not surprisingly, is on missionary work: who are the elders teaching, and how can the auxiliaries help?

We take turns bringing a “spiritual thought” to the meeting and sharing it with the others; typically, something from Preach My Gospel that struck a note with us. [This ensures that at least once a quarter, I spend half an hour frantically skimming Preach My Gospel for something I can share.]

The question that jumped out at me yesterday was, “What effect has [Joseph Smith’s] decision to study and seek had in your life?” This is what I shared:

When Joseph went into the place we now call the Sacred Grove to pray, he only wanted to know which church to join. He did not know that he was a descendant of Joseph in Egypt. He did not know that he would become the prophet of the Restoration. He did not know that he would be tarred and feathered, that his infant son would die that night, that many people would fear and despise him, and that someday he would be martyred for his faith.

He did not know how many people would steadfastly follow the Church as it migrated west, how many would live quiet lives of service and inspiration and faithfulness, how many missionaries would go forth and preach the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ.

He did not know that my cousin would fall in love with a girl from a less-active branch of a prominent LDS family, that my cousin would join the Church and have five children and bring my grandmother into the Church, that Gram would pray me into the Church, that I would meet the children’s father and have five daughters, that the three of them who are married, would marry outside the faith, that two of those three husbands would join the Church when they were ready and would take my daughters to the temple [to be sealed for time and all eternity].

He did not know what it would feel like for me to stand in the celestial room of the temple and watch [Secondborn and 2BDH] walk in, together.

All this, because Joseph studied and prayed.

It was good, very good, to think about these things and to write about them.

I got a lot of knitting in at church yesterday, all the way up to where the gusset increases begin, and a bit more done after my nap. I may finish the gusset increases today.

I also stitched down the rest of the pleats on the hip yoke of the doll skirt; I am planning a French seam and have pinned the raw edges accordingly. There is something about hand-sewing that is so satisfying, especially when there is no deadline for completion of the project.

I sewed a button on one of my blouses, before it fell off. I finished another small mending job that has been hanging about on the back of the couch for several weeks and wove in the dropped stitch that has prevented me from blocking the lace scarf I made for my friend in MO. I will have a picture for you in the next day or so.

@Tan: no infection from the shanking with my knitting-needle. There is a tiny, tiny scab [we are talking 00 needles, after all], and only the slightest bit of bruising; I was expecting a hellacious one. It’s as if my immune system set up an immediate blockade and announced to all passing germs, “Nothing to see here, folks, just keep moving.” The jeans, however, did not survive, but they were at least 5 years old and not worth cutting apart for doll clothing.

All in all, a peaceful, restful Sabbath. And my home teachers came over, bringing brownies as atonement for having had to miss their appointment last Thursday.