This past weekend was our church’s bi-annual general conference, where we all watch a broadcast of the church leaders giving speeches. I always adore conference weekend. I love the peace and quiet of just sitting around the house with Bear, I love the meaty talks given, I love getting to listen to the prophet.
This conference was unusual in a few ways. We had to watch it up at my inlaws because we were celebrating family birthdays, and I really missed the quiet at our own house. I love my niece and nephews, but kids do complicate trying to sit still and listen.
I also had two talks that just felt written for me alone. I couldn’t have gotten the message any clearer if the speaker had stopped talking and said, “Ok, Reese, listen up because this part is for you.”
There was also one talk in particular that left me pretty steaming mad, but I’m not going to dwell on it because I’ve already said my peace in other places and I’m trying to get over it. I will just say that I was disappointed we only got two female speakers at conference, and that that was the message our president decided we needed to hear.
Anyhoo, moving on….
Here were my profound moments of revelation:
Saturday morning Elder Spencer J Condie gave a speech called Claim the Exceeding Great and Precious Promises. It was so beautiful, all about how God will not forget the promises he’s made to us if we fulfill our covenants. When he quoted “And God remembered Rachel,” I just sobbed. My life has been ridiculous. Seriously, ridiculous. This stuff does not all happen to one person unless they’re addicted to drama and make it happen themselves. I am not that person. This year, well I’m still afraid to jinx myself, but this might be the time when these promises are finally fulfilled. It’s just been so difficult to keep going, to not lose my faith or get mad at God, and I needed this talk to remind me what I’m striving for.
I also really benefited from Elder Eyring’s talk about journal keeping, O Remember, Remember. This one came on when all the kids were running around, everyone needed to be fed, people were coming in and out of the room needing to be caught up, the house was just filled with the noise and bustle of a large extended family, and I could only catch about every other sentence. From out of the fog of distraction came this one thought as clear as a bell, “I heard in my mind—not in my own voice—these words: ‘I’m not giving you these experiences for yourself. Write them down.’ “
I’ve very often felt that the past five years have been wasted. I have no additional education, no valuable career experience, no children. I have often asked God what that time was for. I think that was my answer.