HE KNOWS WHAT WE NEED

We are shaking things up on Confessions of a Negative (N)ellie, today. How you say? Well, with a game, of course!

You dear, beloved, dedicated reader, have five seconds to think of as many synonyms for Negative (N)ellie as you can.

Ready? Set? Go!

How'd you do?

Being Negative (N)ellie herself, I will admit that I may have had a slight advantage. Here are some of the answers I came up with.

• Complainer

• Whiner

• Writer (sort of)

• Lover of Ice Cream

• Hopeless Daydreamer

• Dog Watcher

• Defender of Fictional Characters

I mean, the list could go on and on, but we do not have all day. However, I can guarantee that there is one word that made NO ONE'S list.

Nurturer.

No one, not even my grandma who loves to give me the sweetest of compliments, (or lies, depending on who you ask) would ever describe me as nurturing.

So, you can see why it may have caused me to pause when I was asked to participate in Primary. As in, the primary care of children on Sunday, where they receive their primary knowledge in all things Gospel, and may need primary care and understanding.

Perhaps this suggestion should have been prayed over more than once? Just a thought.

Unfortunately, no angels descended from above when such a thought was propositioned, summoned to guard the children of our congregation from me, the destroyer of all things fun. Foolishly, or perhaps desperately, people asked of my aid. Then, as a shock to even me, the word "yes" exited my mouth without a second thought.

I really need to get control of such fickle lips. They seem intent on betraying me whenever I am asked to do something clearly out of my skill set.

Imagine the horror, dear reader, not just for myself, but for the poor, helpless children, when last Sunday, I was selected to teach their class. Imagine the nightmares that ensued! (again, for both parties.)

That is where I found myself, could it really be just a few, short days ago, with my toes tapping out a distracted beat, and sweat slicking my palms.

Oh, not because I was worried about teaching them, or making sure the Gospel rooted deep and firmly in their hearts. No, see, that is what a nurturer would do, which, we have already determined, I am not.

No, my mind of course was swirling and obsessing with my own problems. I mean, if I don't find myself interesting, who else is going to?

Sacrament Meeting passed in somewhat of a blur, bits and pieces of the speakers’ words sticking in my mind, before becoming captives of the winds of my twisted thoughts.

Suddenly, the final note of the hymn was struck, and I was rushing towards the sounds of giggling children. Oh, how they would not be giggling if they knew who was flying on her broomstick to come and teach them about Jesus.

As I walked into the room, no children were vaporized by meeting my gaze. Instead, they sang happily, making ME laugh as they stretched in their seats to answer important questions to the soul.

I was as stunned as you are.

However, the real test would come when I was seated before my own class. At the moment, they weren't having to deal with me directly. However, when it was I who was placed before them, asking them questions? I could already imagine the fear reflected back at me in their eyes.

Stooping before my class, I did my best to not frighten them as I asked in my sweetest voice to be led to the classroom. I'm not sure I really pulled it off, but nonetheless, I tried, for the children's sake.

Happily, they led the way towards the classroom, skipping and excited, showing that their teacher already had lost her handle on them.

Do you know what happened next? Can you hear the children screaming, begging for me to be released?

No?

That's because they didn't.

Instead, they loved me. As only children can.

Without a second thought, they accepted me as one of their own. Patiently and kindly, they sat through my stuttering lesson, acting as if it was the thrill of their life when I suggested coloring at the end.

They're enthusiasm, it was infectious, a fact you know can be trusted when it is made by a Negative (N)ellie such as myself. All at once, my own problems were long forgotten, as adorable children leaped from their seats to explain what they knew about their Savior. Never would I have thought I would be so happy to read off the names of various crayons.

And yet, I was.

That small amount of time I had, basking in the sweet love of the children, was just what I needed. I needed them, to step out of my own thoughts and remember how truly blessed I am.

And guess what? He knew that.

As always, He knew exactly what I needed, even when it seemed the oddest of selections to me.

Am I saying this calling will change me into a nurturer? Less of a complainer? I mean, can we really ask for such big miracles? However, I will say that even just through my one day in Primary, I am changed. And for the better.

So, with the challenges that come, or the changes that are unwanted, please take heart. Remember the story of “The Wicked Witch of New Mexico and Her Class of Sweethearts“. If the Lord knew what she needed, He knows what you need, too.