Because I Can't Let February End Without a Post

I haven't felt very motivated to write anything lately. It's winter. It's cold. It's dark. And all I feel is a huge walloping helping of the winter blues. Ick! Things have been relatively lovely here in Blauville, but nothing has inspired me to write.

Just a thought ...

Today I got the chance to watch a wonderful devotional given by Neil L. Anderson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. This was a devotional for all employees and volunteers working for the Seminaries and Institute programs of the Church. That's me! So Herman and I settled down, cozied up to the big screen in our living room and listened to an inspired message about my role as a teacher of youth. It was a lovely talk. It was. I can't help but feel horribly inadequate when I hear these talks though. I think of all the things I should be doing. I think of all the things that I am not doing well enough. I get frustrated with myself.

Well, today in a talk full of wonderful tidbits of information, one segment of the talk stood out to me. Elder Anderson quoted a scripture from the Pearl of Great Price when the Lord is speaking to Moses in Moses 1, verse 6. He says:

And I have a work for thee, Moses, my son.

That  verse just stuck out to me. I don't know why exactly. But it just made me think about what work the Lord has for me to do. I am sure that I know some of the work He has for me, but I am also sure that there is so much that I am not seeing. I want to see more clearly, and then I really want to magnify those responsibilities the Lord has for me.

Seminary is a hard church responsibility. So hard. It is the most rewarding responsibility I have ever had, so I have few complaints, but, Oh man!, sometimes it feels like I am running and running and running, trying to make a difference in the lives of my students, and only receiving blank stares in return. There are days that I leave class and think, "Did I even make one bit of difference in their lives today?' Girls Camp spoiled me a lot. I could spend months and months and months getting it together, spend a week having an awesome time, and then have the girls come up immediately afterwards, give me a hug, and tell me how much they loved camp. I loved that! I know that we don't do our callings for the praise of the world. I know. But when someone comes up and says, "You made a difference in my life," it helps because I can see that what I am doing matters to somebody. It is often difficult to see that each day as I leave the seminary classroom. I think that this is one of those callings where the good I've done will be evident in the eternities, maybe not so much immediately. I don't know.

I just know that my Heavenly Father does have a work for me to do. I know that He knows me individually. He knows my strengths, and He knows my weaknesses. He knows my students. He knows what they need. And I know, as Ammon did, more than 2000 years ago:

Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in His strength I can do ALL things ...

 I love that scripture, and I know it is true. I'm not Ammon, but the Lord needs me all the same. He has a work for me to do, and I am going to do my best to do it ... somehow.