What I meant to say . . .

Yesterday was Fast & Testimony meeting in our church. This is a Sunday where those who choose can get up and share their testimony of Christ in front of everyone instead of a scheduled speaker/topic. Addison shared a desire to get up and asked me to help her. James was out in the hall with Ruby so Addie, Ella (with one shoe on and one left behind at our seats) and I trotted on up to wait for our turn.

As we go up I have a flashback to the last time I came up with both girls. I see one lady obviously having a flashback as well as she is slowly shaking her head back and forth. I just know everyone in the front row was holding their breath, waiting to see how my children would behave this time. Last time was a fiasco, with both Addie and Ella trying to climb on the rail during my turn. Why does no one help when you're obviously struggling? Do they think you don't want help, or do they just enjoy watching the show? Just FYI, I would like help if you happen to be in the audience and aren't occupied with your own rambunctious offspring. :)

I help Addison with her own testimony (she asked me to) and Ella tells me she wants to go, but won't say anything so I proceed with my own. I can barely manage to talk, I am so emotional. I attribute the emotions to mainly a lack of sleep, which always brings them close to the surface, but also gratitude and love for my Savior. Which brings me to the point of this post. Since I wasn't able to fully express myself yesterday, I'll do it today. What I meant to say is this:

I have a testimony of my savior, Jesus Christ. I know that he died for me, you, everyone. I am grateful for his example. I fall incredibly short of living up to my potential every day, but I know that I can keep trying because of the Atonement of Christ. I don't have an amazing experience to share, only this knowledge and gratitude for the help I receive on a daily basis through the promptings I feel in my heart. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

All the rest of this post is really the rantings of an insecure young mother. The important part is the short paragraph above, which although short and simple, is what I meant to say. I'm trying to forget about the embarassment I felt/feel about crying in front of everyone as I walked quickly, holding a bawling Ella (she was having regrets about not taking her turn), back to our seats. The important part is that I tried to share a message of gratitude for my Savior with others and I hope they felt that and looked past all the rest.