A little nervous about not getting to sit by my sweetheart any more during sacrament meeting. I think we may start trying to grab a bench near one of the doors. Or see if we can find a pattern for beautiful, matching, lace-edged toddler-sized straight jackets…
A little surprised—it feels like we should still just be kids going to mutual activities or playing pranks on Sunday school teachers: surely no one would mistake us for actual grown-ups…
A little reassured: this is the right thing at the right time...
A little excited for all the new things to learn up ahead.
|Bryan's folks were able to make a last-minute trip to visit this weekend so Gordon could ordain Bryan a high priest. We're so glad they could come!!|
Today Bryan was sustained and set apart as the first counselor in our ward bishopric. (Congregations in the church are called wards; each ward is lead by a bishop who has two helpers known as counselors.) With his graduation from Cornell coming up in just a few weeks, we’ve had a feeling for a while that there would be something new for Bryan to do around the corner, that he wouldn’t just be sitting around twiddling his thumbs wondering how to use his sudden windfall of free time. Of course, of all the things we thought might help fill the eagerly anticipated void, it never even crossed our minds that he would be called into the bishopric.
We’re still trying to sort out what adjustments we might need to make so Bryan can do the things he’ll need to to help support the bishop, but mostly we’re just grateful for the opportunities there will be for Bryan to serve and for us as a family to learn and grow too. Bryan will do such a great job! I’m particularly excited that he will have responsibilities related to the Primary (the children’s program at church). I may be slightly biased (just a little :), but the Primary is such a special organization I’m really glad Bryan will have a chance to be more involved with it.
Speaking of Primary, this is the time of year when the Primary children especially enjoy singing the song “Popcorn Popping on the Apricot Tree.” As I’m typing this, I keep getting distracted by the view out the front window. Spring has finally come to Central New York. Tall magenta tulips are sunbathing in the neighbor’s garden across the street and the petite daffodils in our own yard are nodding slightly under the disproportionate weight of their own blooms. Of all the signs of spring, though, the tree in front of our house catches my eye in particular. Over just the past couple of days it has suddenly burst into blossoms and all at once it seems literally covered by thousands of tiny pink flowers, like so much candied popcorn clinging to each branch.
I suppose it won’t be long, though, until the petals from our popcorn tree are piled on the grass, replaced by summer’s leaves. And not long after that that we’ll be raking the front lawn, searching the air for the smell of burnt leaves as we plan Halloween costumes and start putting together Christmas lists.
But that will all come later: for now the season is just beginning. And while we don’t know what it will bring, we’re anxious to find out and confident it will be an adventure.