Sometimes we overhear things that leave us no choice but to shake our heads and laugh. Today at the grocery store, I got to listen in on one of the funniest conversations I’ve heard since moving to Texas. There’s no reading into it, no learning a lesson from it, just a wonderful fly-on-the-wall moment to bring a smile.
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BoM squad, Brother Lemon? Absolutely, random reader! This is a group of Elders who send each other a text at 7:30 each morning to remind everyone in the squad to read The Book of Mormon. It’s a built-in dad joke combined with accountability and a good cause, and because it’s guys doing it…the morning texts are sometimes a little silly.
My shy 12-year-old daughter got up to share her testimony without any prodding or encouragement from us. Did I mention how shy she is? She surprised us when she walked up to the stand and I was excited for her. I was also worried in a big way. As she sat up there waiting her turn, she looked scared. She even looked like she was going to burst into tears at any moment. To counter her impending chicken-out, I did what any dad would do – I made a silly face at her.
As I've watched arguments and insults in the discussion about immigration issues over the past week, I pictured the adversary sitting back in a lounge chair with his hands clasped behind his head. I imagined him smiling as he listened to the sounds of contention from within the ranks of the Lord’s church. How can we avoid this spirit of contention?
While driving back from a camping trip this past month, my son had his window down and was flying his hand through the air like…well, like a flying hand hanging out a car window. Since the rest of us were relying on the air conditioning to cool us off, the flying hand wasn’t a very welcome thing. The conversation in the car unfolded as follows.
Ten minutes after arriving to Church this Mother's Day, having found our row of metal seats in the back, our little girl made it clear she had other plans for her breakfast besides keeping it in her tummy. What happened after was a near perfect illustration of motherhood.