Sunday

Today I have two stories to share. One is just terribly awkward but I think you may find it amusing at the very least. I think I'm an awkward person lots of the time. One of my favorite characters in one of my favorite books put it perfectly:

"And I, without any paper to hide behind...On the page, I'm perfectly charming, but that's just a trick I learned...At least, that's what I was thinking as the mail boat came toward the pier. I had a cowardly impulse to throw my red cape overboard and pretend I was someone else." (Juliet Ashton, p.171 in The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, by M.A. Shaffer)

I feel exactly like Juliet did on that mail boat either before, during, or after at least 90% of my social interactions. But what else can I do? Keep on trying, and do all my cringing in private! Hah! Except when the amusement of the situation gets the better of me and I end up posting on the internet about it, exposing my true self even amidst my hopefully clever prose.

When I walked into Relief Society at church on Sunday, it felt like a good idea to sit next to someone who was sitting alone, rather than yield to the temptation to avoid eye contact and pick the seat with the most leg room. A quick scan of the room showed me a nice looking girl in the back row. I thought she was probably visiting with the big family that had people in town for a baptism. I sat down next to her, introduced myself, and then asked her if she was visiting. As it turned out, she was not visiting--she was a member of our ward! I gave her a closer look and remembered that she had moved in a few months ago, and [cringe] I had already introduced myself to her a few months ago!! Eeek, and I had felt so good about sitting by her and talking with her. I had to think fast (something I'm not that great at doing on the fly mid-conversation-with-strangers). What's bugging me about the situation is that I can't figure out if I was tactless or rude while I explained myself. Here's what I said in response to her comment that she was already in our ward:

"Oh! Yeah! You look different... did you do something to your hair?"
"No, but I used to wear glasses," the poor girl answered.
"Ohhh, ok!" I said, "I'm sorry--I haven't been in gospel principles class very much in the past few weeks because my baby is trying out nursery, so I haven't gotten to see you much."

The conversation then sort of drizzled over to her son (I asked if she had any kids), although when she said his name was Aiden, I thought she said he was eight. It was just a poorly conducted conversation on my part. I was doing my best to be friendly and learn a little bit about a new person, but I kept feeling so awkward and lame! I hope it wasn't too terrible for her.

Two days later and I still cringe at my repeated stumbling through that conversation! I am seriously unskilled at small talk, but it takes me a while to think of real things to say, you know--meaty real conversation topics and comments--so I often find myself resorting to the dread small talk and failing miserably at the whole social interaction. It's a total catch-22 because those kinds of small talk questions about kids and homes and stuff are kind of necessary in order to get to know someone! But I feel so forced and uncertain whenever I ask those questions, wishing I could have a real conversation with the person, but at the same time I'm totally socially frozen by the awkward small talk and utterly unable to think up a less superficial topic to discuss.

I ended up sharing a hymn book with my semi-new acquaintance and I risked making a joke about how she had to hold the heavy half. She laughed a little, but that's the hard part about not knowing a person very well--I simply could not tell if I was bugging her or if she was glad to have a well-meaning, fumbling-bumbling person talking with her. It's probably all in my head--she probably did not even feel awkward or weird or lame at all. Maybe. I suppose there's always next time, if I can get my courage up to attempt more conversation again next Sunday!

That was a less-glorious moment of church. There were some very happy good moments too, thankfully:
1. The baby blessing of our sweet niece Grayce (Steph and Jasen's third baby)
2. Jay bore his testimony in sacrament meeting
3. Rose and Amber had darling hairdos--my skills are improving. There's something so FUN about dolling up my cute little daughters--I enjoy it way more than you'd think a "plainhead" like me would.

I have to write down Jay's testimony. Normally he goes up front first or second in the meeting, but today he didn't get up right away. I asked him if he was going to go up and he said no, because there were so many people there (we had lots of visitors due to the aforementioned baptism and baby blessing). I was fine with that--I completely understand that feeling! Then near the end of the meeting, Jay told me that he had changed his mind and he decided to go up. He poised on the edge of the pew and started power walking right when the current person finished up. I think it scares him a little to get up there but somehow he also really enjoys getting up. I think it was his best testimony yet, if we were to rank them. I saw a guy scrolling through his phone for the entire meeting until Jay got up and started talking. Then he looked up and listened to Jay's testimony! The simple faith and sincere words of a child are really the most powerful of all.

Jay walked up, adjusted the microphone in his usual deliberate style, and said "Hello, I'm going to talk about how I know the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true. I know that Joseph Smith is a prophet, and I started thinking about Thomas S. Monson. I wanted to know if he was a prophet too, so I said a prayer. I felt a good feeling in my heart. I know he is a prophet too. I know that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true church. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

Does it get any better than that?? That's our sweet Jay. He reads, ponders, and applies what he learns, then shares it. What a good example for his sisters, and the rest of us too.