Watch One Hour

I read Matthew 26:40 during my morning study: And he cometh unto the disciples, and findeth them asleep, and saith unto Peter, What, could ye not watch with me one hour?

It’s easy to do while reading but I refrained from judging Peter and the others. Instead I thought of what I would have done in that instance. There have been times when I wanted or needed to stay awake and physically couldn’t. The phrase “could ye not watch with me one hour” stayed with me as I dressed for the day and if I would have been able to watch one hour with the Savior that night. Continue reading


My Downfall: Suspense and Secrets

Sometime during the first week of last July my brother mentioned there were “Changes coming” that could affect Girls’ Camp.  When I asked for more information, he smiled and said, “You’ll have to wait.”  What the heck?!  First of all, I was enjoying my state of obliviousness.    Just let me reside there permanently, please.  Second, why mention anything if you can’t divulge details?  He realized immediately what he had done and clamped down.  No information would leak from him.  From that point forward, that is.

The damage had been done.   My mind raced with possibilities.  Would there be a new ward?  A new stake?  A new temple?   Okay, those last two were a stretch but that’s how my mind works.  Was somebody being released?  Why would that person be released right before camp?  Oh, the possibilities!

 I tried to force myself not to think about it.  I attempted to focus on other things.  But in the still of the night, his statement came fluttering back into the forefront of my brain.  “Changes coming.”  What could they possibly be? 

A couple of weeks later I found out.  Two wards in a neighboring town were going to a different stake.   The Stake Young Women President lived in one of those wards.  A new Stake Young Women Presidency would need to be called.  However, the stake leaders waited until after camp so it ended up not affecting Girls’ Camp. 

Two things bothered me about his little tease.  One, I can’t stand suspense.  I like being surprised.  I really do.  However, there is one small stipulation before anyone out there throws me a surprise party.  Surprise me but don’t tell me you’re going to surprise me.  The suspense just about kills me.  Seriously. 

Here’s an example. I blamed my pea-sized attention span for the reason I don’t read anymore.  After reflecting on this matter further though, I have come to a different conclusion.  My lack of reading is because I can’t wait for the conclusion.  There is no leisurely reading with me.  I drop everything else so that I can read.  So that I can find out the ending.

That’s why I’ve started reading the ends of books first.  Am I going to like this book?  Is this book worth investing my time?  I just borrowed the Hunger Game series from a friend.  She only gave me the first book though.  I had to text her today and ask, “Am I going to like how this series ends?!”  She doesn’t understand who she’s dealing with because she threw this big log on the fire, “Possibly.”  That had me worried so I continued,  “Aack!” Which translates to:  what did you get me into?  Then I begged, “Um, can I borrow the last book for a few minutes?” Long enough for me to read the end should be sufficient.  She responded with a text and I’m pretty sure it was accompanied with an eye rolling on her end.  “The person who borrowed it last is still reading it,” she explained.  And referring to the end she responded, “You’ll like it.”  Okay, it’s no sneak peak at the ending but it sufficed.  I’ll keep reading.

I’m glad my brother didn’t divulge anything else because of reason two, I can’t keep a secret.  If he would have told me, I would have started the grapevine.  It’s not like I want to be a blabber-mouth.  People just have a way of getting information from me.  It’s usually with a well-crafted, “Hi, how are you?”  And I spill.  Tidbits of information, especially juicy ones, just swell inside me.  If I don’t release them, via blabbing, they will cause me to explode.  And that would be gross.

My mom, bless her heart, was the same way.  It drove me crazy.  I used to complain about her not keeping all conversations in confidence.  There were some she kept very well.  But not all.  I suppose it was inevitable after all my complaining and whining that I ended up just like her.  I just don’t have a filter until after the fact.  That’s usually when I realize, “Probably shouldn’t have told you that.” 

Let me clarify, I can keep a secret.  I’ve done it before.  It just about kills me and I prefer not to have to.  Here’s the disclaimer portion of this blog:  This mainly applies to gossipy type stuff.  When someone vents or unloads, I file that in my lockdown compartment in my brain.  It doesn’t get out.  I am trustworthy with personal information, just not so great in the gossip department.  So please, do not include me in the gossip circle.

For these two reasons, Christmas time is absolutely torture on me.  Not only do I have the suspense of waiting to see what’s in the packages with my name on them, but I also have to keep secrets.  I buy gifts.  I can’t tell.  Other people buy gifts for loved ones and hide them in my closet.  I have to remember not to blab what is being hidden there.  Sometimes it’s a very delicate situation.  I should start taking a vow of silence from Thanksgiving until Christmas day just to be safe.

I just looked over what typed and I probably said too much.  But what else is new?  Case in point.