Thanks To You/ I Get What I Want

June 02, 2010

Thanks To You/ I Get What I Want

What happened was this:

Stephanie was supposed to speak at a youth conference for my brother Andrew's ward tonight.

Then she had emergency surgery.

Then Andrew had to leave the country to meet up with high-ranking elected officials in an undisclosed middle eastern country.

Then my sister in law Megan asked me to speak.

And I wasn't doing anything but nursing and eating cheese and crackers.

So I said, sure.

It was worth it to hear Megan introduce me to the crowd before I spoke:

If you want to feel good about yourself, ask my sister in law Megan to introduce you to an audience of a couple hundred.

Plus, isn't she pretty?

Ahead of time I asked Megan if I could open my spiritual speech by singing Kelly Clarkson's Since You've Been Gone. It's really one of my favorite songs to sing in public.

She said NO.

I asked again.

And again.

But all three times she said NO. And each time got progressively stronger.

So I delivered the message about making choices. About choosing to have faith. About accepting our bodies, our divine missions and the will of God.

Then I sat down.

No Clarkson.

But you know what? After the meeting I met these beautiful, bright-eyed teenagers and I looked into their faces realized I had spent way too much time thinking about what I'd teach them that evening. Instead, I should've been thinking about what I wanted to learn from them.

I mean, don't tell any of them I said this, but really, I think teenagers have it all figured out.

And when the room was mostly emptied out, I sang to a select few.

What?

It just spilled out of me. Couldn't help it.

Since you've been gone/I can breathe for the first time . . .

They were so cute, letting an old lady sing some old tunes.

I suppose Stephanie or Andrew would've been the better speaker tonight, but could they sing Clarkson the way I do? Especially while clutching my well-marked scriptures?

I do know this: there isn't a bushel big enough to hide my singing talent.

Or my humility.

Sing it with me now,

Here's the thing we started off friends . . .