Spinning My Wheels

If it had been a woman who called me—the Relief Society president, for example—I think I would have said no.

But it was not a woman. It was a very nice man who had recently returned to the church after a long period of inactivity, and he was serving as the Elder's Quorum president. So I said, yes, I would take dinner to a neighbor that night, because, he told me, she was pregnant and she was having a hard time.

I guess the fact that I, too, was pregnant and was having a hard time was not something this man had considered. I dragged my tired, swollen body to the kitchen and went to work. Three hours later, I took a large pan of lasagna, a batch of homemade breadsticks, and a salad to my neighbor, grumbling all the way. Then I drove home, fell into bed, and told my kids to eat whatever they could find.

Some years later:

I took a trip with some friends to a town where we knew there was a great thrift shop. After scoring some great deals in the basement, we went upstairs, where the “nicer” (aka more expensive) items were on display. I looked around for a few minutes, but I didn't see anything I wanted there, so I sat in the lobby and waited for my friends.

A man came in smiling and cheerfully greeted me in a voice that carried a strong Spanish accent.

Halfway through the lobby, he stopped. His eyes were fixed on a woman's winter coat, a very nice coat in good condition. I heard him ask the woman at the desk what size the coat was, and how much it cost. He seemed delighted about the size—perfect for his wife—and although the price was more money than he had, he didn't let that get him down for long. He asked if could pay half of the thirty dollar price tag that day, and come back on Friday with the rest. The sales clerk agreed, and the man beamed as he left the store.

Suddenly I had the idea to pay the rest of the coat. How nice it would be, I thought, for the man to come back to the store after cashing his paycheck on Friday and find that he didn't owe a penny. This was certainly a case where the fifteen dollars I gave would be multiplied for his happiness. And I would tell the woman at the desk that if the man asked who had paid his bill, she should say, “just someone who who is trying to be more like Jesus.”

I was very happy about my plan, but there was one small hitch: I had no cash with me at the moment. But had some in my big bag, which I had left locked in my friend's car.

I found my friend and asked her if she could help me get my money from the car. She asked me what I had found to buy, and I somewhat hesitantly told her why I wanted the money. I was surprised when she responded with some scorn. “What? He doesn't need your money. He'll be fine. And we need to leave soon, anyway.” The other friend that had come with us agreed, and they moved to the checkout station to pay for their things.

I was surprised. These were warm-hearted, kind, generous women, and I didn't understand why they reacted so negatively. I didn't see that had a choice, though, so I reluctantly followed my friends out of the store.

We were about halfway to the car when I happened to put my hand in my pocket. I felt something, and was stunned when I pulled out two bills—a five and a ten. 

As I looked back toward the thrift store, I heard my friend saying, “Come on, Marnie! I'm supposed to meet a guy in ten minutes to buy some skis!”

I put the money back in my pocket and got in the car.

If, perhaps, there is some Grand Council keeping score, I don't believe either of these events will get me any points. In the first one, I did the charitable act, but I did it grudgingly, without love. In the second one, I had charity in my heart, but I didn't have the courage to act.

iii

When I was a teenager, a teacher taught our class about the doctrine found in James 2:26: “For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also.”

The teacher explained that faith without works—and I'll include works without faith—is like rowing a boat using one oar. You'll be moving, but you won't get anywhere. That's just how I felt after these events. I'd been moving, but really I was just spinning my wheels, and I didn't—and still don't—feel good about the way I handled these two situations.

☸       ☸       ☸       ☸       ☸       ☸       ☸

I wrote this several years ago, but looking at it now, I see a lesson I hadn't found before—a message about ministering.

The work of ministering is to do the work of the Lord on the earth—to represent Him among the people. Ministering is motivated by Christlike love. It requires both a compassionate heart and willing action.

And also, ye yourselves will succor those that stand in need of your succor; ye will administer of your substance unto him that standeth in need; and ye will not suffer that the beggar putteth up his petition to you in vain, and turn him out to perish.
For behold, are we not all beggars? Do we not all depend upon the same Being, even God, for all the substance which we have, for both food and raiment, and for gold, and for silver, and for all the riches which we have of every kind? And behold, even at this time, ye have been calling on his name, and begging for a remission of your sins. (Mosiah 2:16-17)

Jesus Christ served others throughout His mortal life. He did so by teaching, healing, praying, and being compassionate. He loved those He served. He wanted them to be happy. During His life, He challenged people to follow Him (see Luke 9:23). 

Christ encouraged all who would listen to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick, and provide all kinds of service to one another. 

❤     ❤     ❤     ❤     ❤     ❤    ❤

Can we—imperfect, sometimes fearful, occasionally self-absorbed, maybe judgmental mortals really find a way to minister like our Lord and Savior did?

Maybe.

We can't feed 4,000 hungry people—but we can take a loaf of bread to a busy friend, or make a generous donation to a local food pantry.

We can't heal the blind—but we can drive a neighbor to a doctor's appointment.

We can't care for all the suffering children in the world—but we can take a restless toddler on our lap during a church meeting.

We can't change the fact that there are poor people in the world—the Savior himself said, "For ye have the poor with you always, and whensoever ye will ye may do them good . . .  but we can be generous in our fast offerings and support organizations that serve the needy.

We cannot cleanse the earth of its physical and spiritual pollution—but we can mop a floor or wash a window for someone who is overwhelmed for a season. And we can stand as witnesses to the truth to those who seem to need a little firmer foundation.

We can't turn back time to restore youth. But we can visit and minister to those who've had a little more time on this planet than we have.

I was struck by the of this wisdom and truth of this statement from Sister Bonnie Parkin: 

"Most ministering opportunities are spontaneous, not planned in advance. Much of the Savior’s ministering seemed almost incidental, happening while He was on His way to somewhere else—while He was doing something else."

To minister this way requires that we have an eye turned outward, a heart open to compassion and the courage and faith to act. When we do this our opportunities to serve increase, and our love for those we minister to—and our love for Savior—blossoms and grows.  

So, let's open our eyes, open our hearts, and open our arms. I think we just might find ourselves part of some ministering miracles.



Sources:

https://www.mormon.org/blog/christianity-is-about-serving-others

Bonnie D. Parkin. "Personal Ministry: Sacred and Precious" BYU Devotional, Feb. 13, 2007 

Slow of Speech

More than three thousand years ago, God gave Moses an assignment.

Come now therefore, and I will send thee unto Pharaoh, that thou mayest bring forth my people the children of Israel out of Egypt.

But Moses wasn't so sure. He had some serious doubts and questions.

“Who am I, that I should go unto Pharaoh, and that I should bring forth the children of Israel out of Egypt?  . . . what shall I say unto them? . . . O my Lord, I am not eloquent, neither heretofore, nor since thou hast spoken unto thy servant: but I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue.” 

I think I know a little of what he's feeling. I really dislike the sound of my own voice. It's a little nasally, kind of sloppy, and I have a lisp that seven years of speech therapy could not erase. Sometimes I worry that I'll use the wrong word, or pronounce a word wrong, or just say something really stupid and make a fool of myself.

               But what if that doesn't really matter?

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When Wes and I moved to Memphis in 1989, we lived in a fairly poor part of the city. Memphis was a city with a lot of social, racial, and economic inequality, and we felt the presence of that inequity more than we had expected to.

The building where our ward met was several miles away from our home, and no active church members lived near us. After we had lived there about two years, we were given an assignment – to pick up a woman who had recently joined the church, and give her a ride to the meetings every Sunday. Although she did not live very close to us, her home was on our way to the building.

I don't remember her name, so I will call her Sister Pether. She was an older woman who lived in a small apartment near the freeway exit. She was always there, dressed and ready for church, when we pulled into the parking lot. She was cheerful and talkative, and she chatted with us as we drove. But we didn't know what she was saying. Under the best of circumstances we might have been able to decipher her strong deep-southern black accent, but these were not the best of circumstances. Sister Pether was a poorly-educated woman with no teeth. We understood almost nothing she said.

We were glad to give her a ride, and she was clearly delighted by our fat, smiley baby, Sam. I silently wondered what she knew about the gospel, how she had come to join, and whether she might not be coming to church for the right reasons.

One evening the sister missionaries came to our house for dinner, and they told us something that had happened in Relief Society on a recent Sunday. The teacher had called on Sister Pether to read a scripture. (I don't know if the teacher was unaware of this woman's illiteracy and her speech impediment, or if she knew and bravely followed a spiritual prompting.) I expected that would have made for an uncomfortable moment, but that's not what happened. The woman sitting next to Sister Pether opened her scriptures to the assigned verses and quietly read the first word, which Sister Pether repeated. Word by word, they read the word of God, while every woman in the room struggled to control her tears.

I still don't know much of Sister Pether's history or her gospel knowledge. I don't know how her story ends. I don't need to. God knows her heart, and He will be her judge, and He will be her helper.

And with righteousness shall the Lord God judge the poor, and reprove with equity for the meek of the earth. (2 Nephi 30:9)

O let not the oppressed return ashamed: let the poor and needy praise thy name. (Psalms 74:21)

For he shall deliver the needy when he crieth; the poor also, and him that hath no helper. (Psalms 72:11 – 13)

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And Moses said unto the LORD, O my Lord, I am not eloquent, neither heretofore, nor since thou hast spoken unto thy servant: but I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue.

And the LORD said unto him, Who hath made man's mouth? or who maketh the dumb, or deaf, or the seeing, or the blind? have not I the LORD? Now therefore go, and I will be with thy mouth, and teach thee what thou shalt say . . . Certainly I will be with thee.

Maybe how we speak, and how we feel about our ability to speak, is not that important. Moses and Sister Pether both did the thing God called them to do. For Moses, it was freeing the Israelites, miraculously parting the Red Sea, and giving them God's commandments. For Sister Pether, it was getting dressed and ready for church every Sunday morning and doing what she was asked to do, despite her worldly weaknesses.

I frequently come across things that seem hard to deal with and that I wish I didn’t have to do. Maybe that's true for you, as well.

I hope these stories will help us remember that when we accept an assignment from God, big or small, He will be with us. We all have something to share; something to do that no one else can do.

The counsel that Bryant S. Hinckley gave his struggling missionary son Gordon is good advice for all of us:

Forget Yourself and Go to Work!

Reprieve

I can’t say I wasn’t warned.

When my sister returned my dish, it still held about a third of the apple crisp I had taken to a family party. “But don’t eat it,” she said. “It’s been sitting in my car for days.”

After she left, I considered the leftover crisp thoughtfully. It looked good to me. There was no sign of mold or other spoilage. It smelled good, too. I put it in the microwave until it was smoking hot, thinking that should kill any bacteria that might be there. And when it had cooled down a bit, I dug in.

I was right about one thing – it still tasted good. But I was wrong about it being safe to eat. Within a few hours, I was experiencing debilitating abdominal pain. I spent most of the rest of the day curled up in agony in the bathroom, vomiting every 15 minutes or so.

I kept telling myself that this couldn’t continue much longer; that surely before long, I would have expelled (from one end or the other) the noxious stuff. But as the hours passed. I began to worry. It was the first Wednesday in December, and I was in charge of the Relief Society meeting that would be held that evening. None of the members of the Relief Society presidency were going to be there. I had planned the meeting alone, and I was the only person who knew what should happen. I felt (perhaps incorrectly) that if I didn’t show up, there would be no Relief Society Christmas Meeting. I began to pray more fervently for the Lord to heal me. But my agony of sickness continued.

Twenty minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start, I suddenly felt better. I changed my clothes, gathered my materials, and drove to the church. I knew I had been miraculously healed, and I was grateful.

The meeting was wonderful. I arranged the chairs in the Relief Society room into a half-circle, so the sisters could easily see and hear each other. We began the meeting with a prayer, and then I invited each of the women to share a favorite Christmas memory.

Each sister in turn shared a story, and the Spirit of God grew stronger every minute. I looked around and was struck by how beautiful everyone was. I believe that everyone there was very moved. 

When everyone had shared an experience, I passed out the words to a little-known Christmas song I had come across in my preparations for the meeting. Although none of the women had ever heard the song, I assured them that they could sing it, because it had the same tune as a familiar hymn, In Humility, Our Savior. I loved the idea that this song about the Savior’s birth would parallel a song we usually sang before the Sacrament was given. I struggled with sweet, deep emotions as we sang these words together:

Come, Thou long expected Jesus,

Born to set Thy people free;

From our fears and sins release us,

Let us find our rest in Thee.

Israel’s Strength and Consolation,

Hope of all the earth Thou art;

Dear Desire of every nation,

 Joy of every longing heart.

Born Thy people to deliver, 

Born a child and yet a King

Born to reign in us forever,

Now Thy gracious kingdom bring.

By Thine own eternal Spirit

Rule in all our hearts alone;

By Thine all sufficient merit,

Raise us to Thy glorious throne.

We enjoyed some light refreshments, and the meeting ended. I cleaned up a little before I headed for home. How wonderful that I had not felt at all sick during the meeting!

As soon as stepped into my house, I felt awful. I ran to the bathroom, and stayed much of the night, filling the toilet again and again.

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Next story – five + years later:

No one seemed to know what was wrong with me. I had been dragged to every doctor we could think of, and had received every test those doctors could think of. But nothing explained why I had suddenly lost forty pounds, become unable to walk straight, and was so tired and weak that I was essentially bedridden for three months.

During this time, my daughter Elisabeth turned eight, and her baptism was scheduled for a few weeks later. I hoped I would feel well by then.

I didn’t. The night before her baptism, I cried out to my Heavenly Father, telling Him how important it was to me to see Elisabeth baptized. I was determined to attend, even if I had to be carried in on a stretcher. But I hoped and prayed for better than that.

The next morning, I woke up and tentatively tried to get out of bed. I did it! I felt okay!

I showered, dressed, and went with my family to the Stake Center. I helped Elisabeth change into her baptismal clothing and joyfully watched my husband baptize her. I helped her get dried off and dressed in her cute new dress. I beamed as I saw her confirmed.  And then I went home and served lunch to the out-of-town relatives who had come for the event.

There was no question that my prayers had been answered. I felt great. I knew I had been the beneficiary of a Divine healing.

The next morning, I could not eat or get out of bed. A few weeks later, we finally learned why – I had a small cancerous brain tumor.

I’ve been thinking about these two events in my life. There are, I suppose, a number of lessons there. But this is the one that has been most prominent in my mind: God can heal me. He can heal me for an hour, or for a day. I believe He can heal me, can make me well, for a week, or for a month, or for the rest of my life. Why then, why doesn’t He?

I don’t have the full answer to that question. I do know this: He lives. I am His daughter. He knows my name; He knows my strengths; He knows my weaknesses. He wants the very best for me. He loves me with a perfect Father’s love.

I also know this: I have been richly blessed throughout my life, far beyond anything I could ever earn or deserve.

So, no, I don’t have all the answers. But I guess I’m starting to realize that I do have some of them. And maybe that’s enough for now.

And a Little Child Shall Lead Them

I was sitting in a chair in the children’s section of our small local library. It was very quiet there, even by library standards. There didn’t seem to be any other visitors, and I didn’t plan to stay there long – I was just waiting for the mechanic whose shop was next door to finish inspecting my daughter’s car. I had randomly chosen a book from a nearby shelf and was looking through it without much interest.

I looked up when I heard voices. A women had entered the library with a baby in her arms and two young children at her feet. They were heading toward the children’s section where I sat. The woman began looking through the shelves, with the baby still in her arms and a toddler sitting on the floor beside her.

But the oldest of the children, six years old, was more interested in me. While adults usually try to take to surreptitious peeks at my contorted face and bald head, children are more obvious about their curiosity. This little girl was no exception. She stared at me for a minute, then began to skip and dance in a circle around my chair. When she finished a round and came back to my face, she stopped and stared again for a while, then returned to her joyful dance. After the fourth loop, I decided to start a conversation.

“I’m funny-looking, aren’t I?”

She nodded solemnly.

“Are you wondering why I look different?”

Another nod.

I explained to her that a few years earlier I had learned that something was growing inside my head; something that wasn’t supposed to be there. When the doctor took it out, it made the right side of my face paralyzed, so I couldn’t make it move. I demonstrated my paralysis by making the funny faces that always result from my attempts to move both sides of my face, The little girl gave me an understanding nod and went back to dancing around my chair.

After a few rounds, she stopped in front of me and said, “It’s okay. Some people are different. My Mom is different than my Dad.”

A another round of dancing and she was back to talk to me. “Anyway,” she said, “What you look like on the outside doesn’t matter. It’s what you are on the inside that counts.”

Before she could return to her dancing, her mother called her and said it was time to leave. She moved toward her mother and the door, but soon turned around and ran back to me. “Will I see you again?” she asked. Her voice was hopeful.

“I think you will,” I said. “I hope you will.”

With my niece Mia

We come into the world with no ideas about judgment. If I walked in to the Sunbeams class and asked the 3- and 4-year-old children, “How many of you can draw? How many of you can sing? How many of you can dance?” I’d see hands waving eagerly, and hear sweet little voices saying “Oh, I can! I can!” I could ask “How many of you are smart? How many of you are beautiful? How many of you know that Heavenly Father loves you?” and I’d hear eager voices saying “Me, Me, Me!”

But suppose I asked the same questions to the adults in Relief Society, or in Priesthood meeting. I think I’d get a very different response.

With my son Adam

The world is too much with us, the poets say. And I believe it’s often true. The world tells us, as we begin to grow up, that we aren’t thin enough, not good-looking enough, aren’t talented enough – just not good enough.

The world tells us that money and power are all-important, that it’s foolish and naive to believe in a God we can’t see. The world tries to drag us down. But the Savior lived and died to lift us up.

That is why Christ told us to become as a little child. He wants us to shake off the lies of the world and believe the truth. He wants us to be generous-hearted, not puffed up with pride or depressive thoughts. He asks us to accept His great offering, and return to the purity we were born with.

We all know what we should do. But sometimes we forget. Maybe, every once in a while, we should stop and let a little child lead us.

 . . . and a little child shall lead them (Isaiah 11:6)

Happy Birthday, Relief Society!

On March 17, 1842, the Relief Society – a women's organization that is an auxiliary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints – was officially created. Because I am a woman and a member of the LDS church, I am privileged to be a part of it.

Several years ago I was assigned to prepare a presentation on the history and value of the Relief Society. As part of this presentation I wrote the following essay:

          Tonight we address two questions: what does the Lord think of you as a woman, and what does he want for you in your life?

          For most of the history of the world, women, individually and as a group, have been poorly thought of, badly treated, and severely limited in their freedom. For thousands of years, it was illegal for women to own property. A woman could not get an education, was not allowed to study the scriptures or be taught the gospel. A woman frequently had little or no choice about whom she married, and once she was married, had no rights or freedom. It was legal for a man to beat or otherwise abuse his wife – she had no right to stop him. A man could divorce his wife for reasons ranging from unchastity to burning a meal, but a woman could almost never divorce her husband. Although she was expected to do the work of taking care of children, she did not have the right to decide how her children would be raised and taught.

          In ancient Jewish society, public life excluded women, often forcing them to cover their heads and faces in the presence of men. A rabbi could not speak to a women in public. Woman had no legal, financial or civil voice. Some Jewish men repeated daily the infamous prayer: “Praised be God that he has not created me to be a woman.”

          This kind of treatment seems incredible to us, but for the lawmakers and other men of the past it was the only way to treat women. In fact, they believed that women didn't have the ability to make the kind of decisions more freedom would require. The well-respected philosopher Aristotle taught that the male by nature is superior and the female inferior, and believed that the female state is one of deformity.

          Another famous philosopher, Socrates, said that being born a woman is a punishment from God, since a woman is not fully a person, but is halfway between a man and an animal.

          When Augustine, a religious thinker and teacher, came to power he wondered how a man could possibly love his wife, knowing what she is and what she represents. He thoughtfully concluded that he should love her as a Christian is commanded to love his enemies.

          In summary, it is fair to say that a low view of women was common, even predominant, during ancient times. With this type of thinking being held by all men, there was little hope for any change for the better in women’s lives.

          Then came Jesus Christ.

         Christ completely deviated from society in the way he treated women. For the first time, women saw a man who would teach them, heal them, respect them. Christ treated women with respect regardless of their station. He taught the woman at the well, insisted on fair, even merciful treatment of the woman caught in sin, and healed a woman who, having an issue of blood, was considered unclean and therefore untouchable. He showed the world a different way to think and act.

          Even after the Savior’s death, Christian men, following His example, had greater respect for women, and women did enjoy more rights, more freedom, more spiritual growth for a time. But as the truth and the priesthood left the earth, so did man’s true vision of woman. Women were again mistreated and unable to share their talents. The only work available to them was menial or even immoral.

           With the passing of time, there was some small improvement -- in many cultures the blatant abuse of women became less acceptable. But at the beginning of the 1800s, for the most part, things were not a whole lot better. Women were still denied access to higher education. Their career choices were extremely limited. They had no voice in government – they could not vote or hold public office. 

          Then came Joseph Smith, the restoration of the gospel, and the birth of the Relief Society.

          In March 1842, when the Prophet Joseph Smith established the Relief Society, he said to the women:

“You will receive instructions through the order of the Priesthood which God has established, through the medium of those appointed to . . . direct the affairs of the Church in this last dispensation; and I now turn the key in your behalf in the name of the Lord, and this Society shall rejoice, and knowledge and intelligence shall flow down from this time henceforth.” 1

The Prophet told them that the organization would be “a charitable Society, and according to your natures,” and then he added, “If you live up to your privileges, the angels cannot be restrained from being your associates” 2

Over one hundred years later, in 1945, President George Albert Smith said to the women of the Relief Society:

“You are . . . more blessed than any other women in all the world. You were the first women to have the franchise; the first women to have a voice in the work of a church. It was God that gave it to you and it came as a result of revelation to a Prophet of the Lord. Since that time, think what benefits the women of this world have enjoyed. Not only you belonging to the Church have enjoyed the blessing of equality, but when the Prophet Joseph Smith turned the key for the emancipation of womankind, it was turned for all the world, and from generation to generation the number of women who can enjoy the blessings of religious liberty and civil liberty has been increasing.” 3

          Could this be true?  Could it be that the Relief Society – that key turned for the emancipation of womankind – has really made the difference in the lives of women around the world since then? A look at history suggests that it certainly is so.

          Remember, the Lord, through Joseph Smith, established Relief Society and thereby pronounced the blessings of liberty on women in 1842. Seven years later, in 1849, Elizabeth Blackwell graduated from medical school, becoming the first woman in the U.S. with a medical degree. A few years after that, the first woman graduated from dental school. In 1870, the Mormons settlers in Utah gave women voting rights – the first state to do so. Other states soon followed.

          In 1869 the first woman lawyer was granted admission to practice law. In 1873 the first woman to be admitted to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology earned her bachelors degree, and became the first female professional chemist in the U.S. In 1887 Susanna Salter became the first woman elected mayor.

          Remember, all these firsts occurred within less than fifty years of the day Joseph Smith ‘turned the key’ to open the door for the freedom of women.

          I found a detailed list on the internet documenting the achievements of women throughout history. There were hundreds of landmarks of women’s progress on the list, and virtually all of them happened after 1942. A few examples: The first woman to be elected to the U.S. House of Representatives.  The first woman to serve as governor. The first woman Senator. The first woman member of a presidential cabinet. The first American woman to serve as a director of a major corporation. The first woman to own a seat on the New York Stock Exchange. The first female Supreme Court justice.

          Can you see the huge upward turn in freedom and opportunity for women? Can you doubt that this is more than coincidence?

          Some of you remember the "woman's movement" of the 1970s. It was in many ways a controversial issue, and I have heard people say that “women's lib” was that work of the adversary; an idea that Satan started as part of his plan to destroy families.

          I have a different theory. I believe that it was Satan’s work that persuaded men to oppress women for so many years. Fearing the influence and power a righteous woman can have, Satan did his best to make sure that that influence would not go far. This was his work for thousands of years.

          The evidence shows that it was God who started the women’s movement on that day in 1842 when He consecrated women’s work through the birth of the Relief Society. Satan, knowing the wonders that educated, knowledgeable, joyful women could do, did his best to stop it, but the key had been turned. There was no going back.

          So Satan took a different tactic. You will notice that one of his favorite tricks is to take a good thing and mix in some evil. I believe that this is what happened to the women’s movement. While God said, “You are equal to men, but you have different gifts and different roles,” Satan said, “In order to be equal to men, you must be just like men.” Where God says, “You are free to choose whom you will marry, and how you will love and nurture you children,” Satan says, “You are free. If you marry and have children, you will be a slave.” This was a two-pronged attack: on the one hand, the evil one persuaded many women to reject their divine roles and become more like men. On the other hand, he made many good women see the progress of women – the so called "woman’s movement" as an evil thing, instead of a wonderful God-given blessing. This confused some woman and led them to limit their own growth.

          We started out tonight with two questions. The first was "What does the Lord think of you as a woman?" I hope now we can see the answer more clearly. Heavenly Father loves His daughters as much as his sons. He knows we have marvelous potential on the earth and unlimited potential in the life to come.

          The second question was “What does the Lord want for you in your life?” It is my testimony that He wants the very best for you. He wants you to enjoy and excel in all your roles. While recognizing that you can do many things well, he pleads with you to remember which of your responsibilities are most important. He wants joy, growth, and freedom for you – and He wants those things for men, as well.

Our dear President Hinckley said, “Stand a little taller and work a little harder and value a little greater the marvelous blessing which you have as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” and I would add, as a member of the Relief Society.

          Can we do this, sisters?  Go we go forward in so great a cause?  I believe that we can. As members of the Relief Society, the organization that has blessed the lives of millions of women, whether they know it or not, our potential is enormous.

          Tonight you have come to a birthday party. We have food and decorations and cake to celebrate the birthday of the Relief Society. You did not purchase and wrap a gift to bring. But I am suggesting that you can still give the Relief Society a birthday present. On that wonderful March day in 1842, Joseph Smith prophesied, “If you live up to your privileges, the angels cannot be restrained from being your associates.” That is the gift you can give the Relief Society. After all it has given you – all the learning, all the comfort, all the service, all the opportunities, and all the privileges – you can commit tonight that you will more fully live up to those privileges. What a marvelous birthday present that would be, if we would all make that commitment.

          I am grateful to be a woman. I am grateful to be a member of this church. Tonight, I am certainly grateful to be a member of the Relief Society. I am grateful to live in a time and place that gives me liberty and opportunities. I am grateful for the many choices I have had the freedom to make: to get an education, to choose a career, to choose a husband, to choose to have, rear, and love my children.

          I know this church is true. It has blessed the lives of millions. It has blessed everyone in this room. I pray that we will never forget that, and that we will stand as women of God, women who, at all times and in all places live up to their God-given privileges.

1 (History of the Church, 4:607).

2 (History of the Church, 4:605). 

3 (Relief Society Magazine, Dec. 1945, p. 717, emphasis mine)