The Pulpit revisited

You may recall the spectacle in Sacrament meeting from a few weeks back. To refresh your mind, I’ll site it again:



This past Sunday, James and I were asked to say the prayers in sacrament meeting. I love to pray, but now that I am blind, it gets a bit more difficult than before. We usually sit near the front so that I don’t have a long way to cane while everyone watches me go to the podium. After I have said the prayer in the past, I have a lot of people pat me on the shoulder and tell me, in a sweet little voice, what a wonderful job I do and how brave I am. While I try to be a good sport, it is a bit much for just saying a prayer.
Well, this week we kicked the embarrassment level up a notch. I was all prepared to cane my way up to the stand with a smile on my face. We were positioned on the second row so I wouldn’t have far to go. Now, you may be asking why James doesn’t just walk me up there. If he does then we have Benji crying because he wants to come and Christopher who follows because he doesn’t want to be left alone. So, instead of making it a family affair, I find it just as simple to get myself up to the podium. Well, when the meeting was over, the first counselor conducting, said,” We’ll now close with a closing prayer by Sister Belcher. We’ve asked Ty Porter, one of our deacons, to walk Kris up here.” Just then, I felt someone sit down by me. It was Ty. I swallowed my glee (pride) and took his arm to go to the front. He did pretty well guiding me. That is, he did pretty well up until the point where he said, “Here is the podium” and walked away. So, I took a step toward the audience and there was no podium. He had left me several feet from it. The Bishop thought I was going to fall over the edge of the rostrum and sent both counselors to help save me. They each grabbed an arm and did a kind of shuffle step sideways and not very softly, I might add. “Here’s the podium. No, wait. Yep, there you go.” Was the whispered dialog. By that time I am ready to scream! But, I remained calm and just smiled as I stood there collecting myself enough to pray. Wow! Who knew church could be so entertaining. I knew that everyone was just trying to help (even though I didn’t ask for it). I worked at being gracious and then tried for the next two hours to stop shaking my head in disbelief. Being blind isn’t all it’s cracked up to be no matter what anyone says.
Next time I am asked to pray in sacrament meeting, I’m going to have my little deacon guide dog just bring me a roving microphone! Amen.

Present day…
So, today was a fast and testimony meeting. I really wanted to share my testimony. I did want to show the ward and the bishopric that I was capable of walking on my own, but this was not the motivation for going up to the stand. I was praying for the Spirit to fill up my empty cup. So, right after the counselor finished, I got my cane and made my way to the stand. Another person was at the pulpit so I sat in a chair. When he was done, I stood and walked toward the microphone. Well, the brother leaving the pulpit grabbed my arm and said “Let me help you.” I told him I was fine and kept going. Someone on the stand said loudly, “Stop!” and Benji yelled from the audience, “You’ve gone too far, Mom!” Another person, I think a bishopric member grabbed my arm as well and said, “Over here.” I think I told him to let go of me and turned to go to the pulpit. I hadn’t missed the mark by much and wouldn’t have missed it at all if they had just left me alone. I literally felt like a caged animal. I only wanted to share my testimony and by the time I got there, the Spirit was not with me. I was frazzled and a bit irritated. I took a deep breath and proceeded. I began by saying, “I wanted to come up here, not only to show the bishopric that I could walk on my own but to share my testimony.”

I wrongly assumed that if they had all seen me walk up the stairs alone that they would get that I could make it the rest of the way. I guess that was to much to assume. I finished my testimony and returned by myself to my pew. I am about to give up. I just wish I could see again. It’s times like these that drive it home strongly. But, I still get to be “the blind lady” of my world. The good news is that Benji says I’ll be getting my new eyes in a few years. Until then, can you help me to the stand?