I have been trying to hold Family Home Evening (FHE) the last two weeks though Garry has been gone and he has always been the biggest fan of faithfully holding FHE. The girls really enjoy it, and so I have tried to keep up the tradition.
Here's my sad story and my sad attempt. Sunday night I had a dream that Christ was coming. I was afraid that He was coming to my house and so I spent the day scrubbing and cleaning and getting rid of any R rated movies that might be around the house. (For the record, I do not think that we have any). But He did not come to my house and so I went to church and walked in and there was the Prophet.
I was disappointed, and I walked out.
So, I woke up ashamed on many levels. That I did not realize that the message from Christ or His Prophet would be the same, that I did not choose to stay and listen, and that on Sunday I spent the afternoon cleaning the girls' rooms instead of listening to General Conference.
To make up for it, I determined to teach my girls about service for FHE since that is what President Monson was talking about while I was cleaning. I made some banana bread, had a quick lesson with the girls, and loaded them up in the van.
We were going to take the banana bread to a family whose son has not been feeling well lately. They were not home. Sigh. So we tried to take it to someone who has not been feeling well lately and has really struggled the last few months. She was not home. Sigh. So we tried to take it to a family who helped us fix the furnace problem last week. They were not home. Sigh. So we tried to just take it to some friends. When we were pulling into their street, we saw their van pulling out. Big sigh.
Can I mention that this whole time Molly screaming from the back seat?
So, we went home and ate banana bread. A lesson, an activity and a snack. Not bad.