A month ago, I was asked to participate in our Stake Women's Conference. Our Stake Relief Society President had recently been to the Rome, Italy Temple and saw the mural where the artist put all of the parables, stories, and people associated with Christ during his ministry into one mural, however, the artist used modern people as the faces, minus Jesus Christ. This mural became the focus and theme of our Conference.
During the program, a narrator would read a statement about the Scripture women, and then a modern woman would bear her testimony of how that story helped strengthen their own testimony of the Savior. I was asked to be the modern Woman at the Well.
One night, I was trying to fall asleep, but inspiration kept me thinking. From Midnight to 2:00 am, I sat down to write my 3-minute testimony. Even while writing it, my testimony was strengthened. How grateful I am to have been asked.
After the chaos, noise, and tears of the first cancer care battle with our son, Caden, I thought I needed peace and quiet, rest and ease, to heal my broken. It was about this time that then-Bishop Kreutz called me into his office and extended the call to be in Nursery, a place with its own chaos, noise, and tears, a place where there would be no rest or ease.
Like the woman at the well, I hesitated at his request. Surely, Heavenly Father knows how tired I am— He’s carried me while I carried my son. Surely there are others more capable than I. Like her, I resisted. What could I possibly have to offer?
We read that Jesus, without his disciples, waited for her, on the outskirts of an undesirable town, at a well-used by outcasts at an unfrequented time. But what I find most profound is that He had nothing to draw up water with— Until she came. In the eyes of many, and maybe even herself, she didn’t have much to offer. But at that moment, she had exactly what He needed.
After accepting the Nursery calling, I presented what I thought would be all that I had left, my last drop. But something extraordinary happened in that ordinary place. Those babies healed my broken with chubby arms around my sagging shoulders and sticky kisses on my tear-stained cheeks. As I diligently learned how to earn the trust and love of those 20 “Little Ones,” Nursery became more than 2-hours of chaos, noise, and tears. It became the backdrop for my growing testimony that He loves me and knows what I need. He knew me when He called me. He had known all along.
About 8 months after that inspired Nursery call, my Caden passed away. If I thought I was broken then, it was nothing compared to the broken of the days and years I nearly drown in the depths of my sorrow as I, like her, just tried to satisfy my daily needs.
Years later, as I began to feel like myself again, Bishop Hammond called me into his office and extended the call to be the Primary President. Just as before, the request was made during a time in my life when things were full of chaos, noise, and tears. But this time I did not hesitate or resist; I presented myself humbly and willingly. Because I knew my Heavenly Father knew how tired I was— He still carries me. I know He has others more capable than I. But, like the Woman at the Well, He met me where I was and asked for something only I could give.
I testify that our Savior knows and loves each of us individually. He is the Savior that leads and guides, walks beside, or carries us through our triumphs and trials, our celebrations and sorrows. Because He loved me first, I want to— and will be— the girl that shows up with what I have when the Savior has need of me.
