They put a lot of thought into it. The music was carefully chosen and lovingly presented. I was in reasonably good voice for the opening and closing hymns, and it was nice to sit next to the new guy (who was sporting a vibrant red tie with an Op-art motif, to my great approval) and just sing my heart out. He gave the benediction.
They quoted me a lot. (They didn’t know that it was me, as the questionnaire was carefully crafted to be anonymous.) But the bits that I was most passionate about when responding, those were front and center, perfectly illustrated in the Power Point presentation.
It was touching, and a bit humbling, and a sweet honor, to have so many of my thoughts chosen as representative of the whole. And to know that my comments, along with all the others, are being sent on to Church headquarters in Salt Lake City.
Well, Heaven knows how I feel about being single, and how I feel about the strengths and weaknesses of the singles program as currently constituted, and about my fellow-singles. I’m not embarrassed to have Heaven’s servants know as well.
After most of the congregation had filtered down the hall toward the refreshments, I went up to the presenter and thanked him, shook his hand, and quietly outed myself. He grinned.
When we were having punch and cookies afterward, one of the guys in my posse quietly asked me if some of those quotes were mine. I told him that a lot of them were, and he said that he was pretty sure which ones.
When the new guy walked me to Lorelai, he said that a couple of his quotes had been used, and I outed myself again. He agreed with a lot of my points. After I got home, there was a brief flurry of emails, the upshot of which [where does that come from? must Google] was my statement that *if* we decide to get serious, he needs to know just how broken I have been in the past, and how thoroughly Heaven has put me back together. Because we bring our past with us, and thankfully I no longer have the matched set of emotional steamer trunks, only a vintage hatbox or two.
It is so nice to be dating a grownup. And to finally, authentically, feel like one myself.
In knitting news, I went back to the yarn shop in Duncanville and picked up the two infinitesimally small circular needles.
And now I need to figure out what I will be telling the Primary kids today. Another friend has asked me to speak with them on how to make ones signing fluid and fluent, instead of a bunch of hand-shapes strung together by rote.
How do I explain be passionate to a bunch of kids? You have to know the hymns. You have to understand their meaning. You have to know the appropriate signs, the five elements of a sign and how to modify them. [Hand shape, hand position, hand orientation, hand movement, and facial expression.] You have to have a sense of yourself in space. You have to feel the Spirit. And it all has to come together inside you, and when it does, the signs fly off your hands, and even the hearing can feel the Spirit and the connection when they watch.
- Five years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!