A Little Voice

When I was Relief Society(RS) president, I had a couple very personal spiritual experiences.  I hesitate to share them, because they are sacred to me.  But I have been thinking about sharing this one for a little bit, and I think perhaps it is time. So here goes.

I had been the RS president for over a year.  I had settled into a rhythm where I attended my meetings, delegated and then followed through.  For the most part, things went as planned and were completed in a timely manner.  But there was the ever present "visiting" that never seemed to get finished.  It didn't matter if I had visited three days during the week, it was inevitable that when I attended my Sunday meeting with the bishop, EQ pres, and HP group leader, there would be someone I had not visited that needed my attention.  (The missionaries were a constant source of information for us.)

We had more than 50 apartments in our ward and about 115 women total in the Relief Society.   There was an unending list of people to meet with every month.  Either a member would let us know that someone had moved in, a visiting teacher reported something for us to look into, the missionaries would be tracting and find a part member family, or the bishop would ask us to go meet with someone.

I wouldn't say that I necessarily put off doing the visiting, but would prioritize other things above it.  Visiting teaching conference, a retreat, the broadcast dinner, lessons, 15 enrichment groups, food orders, dinners, VT assignments and funerals, they all took up a portion of my time.  There was no way to ever get it all done(kinda like the laundry, no matter how much you do there will always be more tomorrow).

I would visit at least 2 sisters each Sunday with one of my counselors, and other sisters in my ward during the week as I heard about things going on in their lives, and felt prompted to do so.  Most of my visits were the kind where you just show up on their doorstep, and were pretty informal.  "I wanted to see how you were doing, and give you a hug."

After I was asked to visit someone, that person would remain on my "visiting list" until I was able to talk with them.  Every Sunday we would try to visit sisters in their homes, and then as time progressed and the list lengthened, we would add a day or two in the week, to also do some visits.

I went to my meeting one particular Sunday and the bishop reminded me that I had not gotten in to meet this new family in the apartments. I promised the bishop I would visit them that week.  My counselor and I went after church that day, and as we had experienced a few previous times, no one answered.  A day or two later we decided to try again, and went in the evening.  Still no luck.

A couple weeks later we tried again mid-week.  This time a little girl answered the door when we knocked.  I introduced myself as a member of the relief society of the 4th ward and asked for her mom.  The little girl said she was home and invited us in.  When inside we were made aware that the mom was not pleased that we had been granted access.  However, she motioned us further into the apartment and to the kitchen table where we sat down.

I told the mom that I had been given her name as someone who was a member, and we simply wanted to meet them and welcome them to the ward.  The woman--let's say her name was Sara-- told us that her and her husband had moved in about 4 months ago.  Sara worked at a doctor's office on the weekends, and that her husband worked the day shifts.  She told us that they both were members, gave us their birthdays, and phone numbers.  Sara went on to explain that their oldest daughter had turned 8 last year and had been asking if the family could go to church.  They had intended to bring her but with work, and not knowing the ward schedule they hadn't done it.

I then turned to look at the almost 9 year-old little girl who had been sitting at the table with us.  She was a cute girl with bright eyes. I smiled a reassuring smile and then something odd happened.
I heard-- in my mind-- a little girls voice.  It was not my own thought and was an unfamiliar. I would describe it more like having a conversation with someone else...only silently.  (I know it sounds strange, and if I were better with words I am sure I could do this experience better justice.) The voice was at a conversational level, and it seemed to come directly from the little girl, yet she had not said anything aloud.

The little voice said "I have been praying that you would come."  There was a warm feeling that settled over me as I realized that this experience was her spirit was talking to mine.  It took me back a little.  I have heard of people having a "thought" come to their mind, and I have had that experience before, but I have never heard someone else's voice in my mind.

I assume my counselor took over the conversation with Sara, because I was somewhat stunned with the little girl that sat before me.  We closed our conversation, gave Sara a small magnet with our ward numbers on it, and left.

When my counselor and I got in the car, my eyes were filled with tears.  I retold my experience to her, and asked if she had heard the voice.  She had not.  I called my bishop on the phone as soon as I arrived home, passing along my experience and the information we had gathered.

Two days later at the insistence of the bishop I shared my experience with the ward council.  I had felt so humiliated that it had taken me over a month to get to this little girl.  Why hadn't I responded earlier?  Why hadn't God insisted that I make this a priority?  Was I not in tune?  This poor little girls answer to her prayer had been delayed because of my lack of action.

My ward rose to the occasion.  The elders showed up at the door directly after the meeting.  They were turned away by the dad.  The primary tried to drop off primary lesson handouts and couldn't get in to see the little girl.  Even my counselor and I were denied entrance when we returned.  I was devastated and felt like I had let God, my ward, and this little family down.

What happened next taught me another life lesson.  About 10 days after our initial visit and my experience with the voice, Sara's father-in-law died.  Grandpa was the person caring for the little girl when both parents worked, so in addition to the emotional toll, this created a huge logistical problem for their little family.  I received a phone call a couple days later from Sara asking for help from the ward.

The Elders stepped in and helped the dad, the RS helped with funeral and child care, the primary with the kids.  After the funeral, the family relied a little more on the ward members and a bridge was created.  The little girl and her family began the discussions with the missionaries, and at the bishop's prodding I was allowed to attend and participate in seeing this little girl have her prayer answered.

It was a truly unique and incredible experience for me.  I learned a few lessons.  First, God has a plan.  If I had gotten into visit this family a month earlier perhaps the family wouldn't have had my number on their fridge. If I had been later, perhaps we wouldn't have been present to help with the funeral--a critical time in this families lives to embrace the gospel.

Secondly, no one thwarts God's plan--not even a young, inexperienced, unknowing, uninspired relief society president in a little town in Utah.  God gets it done in HIS time.  If not by one person, than by another.  If I am not listening and heeding the prompting, and God needs it done, he will inspire another to do it.  (A visiting teacher, a neighbor, a friend) He will not leave it undone.

Lastly, God knows who I am and how I fulfill my callings.  He calls us to serve personally.  This allowed me let go of some of the weight/burden/pressure of being the relief society president.  I could rely on the fact that God will help me get done what he needs and expects me to do.