Trust and fear

HappySimple, on the subject of trust.

While I remember: Brother Sushi and I did not go to Cavalli’s for dinner on Friday night. He got home late enough that we felt it wiser to grab something closer to home(s). So that will be another dinner for another day.

We talk about all sorts of things. He shared that he had prayed over something that was bugging him, and the answer he got was gentle, humorous, and quite specific in its ambiguity. He and I are both the sort of people who like to have everything sorted tidily into boxes. None of this messy spillover from one part of life into the next, just calm quiet orderly progression from Point A to Point B. With the occasional rest stop for a dish of crême brulée.

I had one of those moments myself, last night. Just sitting there minding my own business in the Saturday session of stake conference when three words popped out of somebody’s talk as if they had been bolded or italicized or surrounded by neon lights. And the same three words popped up in the next talk, and the one after that, and by the time our dear stake president uttered them, I was wishing I had a box of Puffs up there in the choir seats with me.

Got it. OK. I will.

Not ready to share what those three words were, except to say that they relate remarkably well to one of the topics of discussion on Friday night, and that if Brother Sushi had been sitting in the congregation last night, he would have been raising an eyebrow at me and stifling laughter. [As soon as the phone I thought I charged last night, finishes charging, he may expect a text message.]

And of course, this is what I get for telling him somewhat smugly, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.”

I’m off to stow half a box of Puffs in the Ubiquitous Red Bag.

(The new knitting project is going well.)