Memorable

Today's General Conference sessions were wonderful, just like yesterday's. It's been a great weekend of pushing back my internal curtains and letting in some refreshing sunlight. A moment ago I checked the Church website, and discovered there are already mp3s of all the conference sessions posted—great news for listeners like me without the patience to wait for the videos and transcriptions which will be uploaded within the week. Talks and music—it's all available now. I love that because I was able to enjoy again one of my favorite pieces of music performed this afternoon by the MoTabs. Because we had some trouble with our streaming radio connection, we ended up having to listen to this heart-stirring piece on a scratchy little radio, but it was still so beautiful it made me cry, static notwithstanding. But here it is, clear as can be. This is one of the songs of my soul.

This evening Rob and I joined my cousins for dinner. They lost their dad, my uncle, this summer and their mom, who's now traveling around the country to spend time with her many children, is here visiting for a few days. When everyone finally arrived, we all gathered in the dining room. Sean, true to his family heritage, is a bit of a tease, and called upon "the Widow Bowen" to ask for a blessing on the food. It felt a bit uncomfortable until Sean's small daughter Bethany piped up and began to loudly pray; she'd heard him invite the widdle Bowen and, being the clever girl she is, quickly did the math and figured she was the widdlest Bowen present who could actually talk, so she stepped up to the plate. There were quite a few muffled snickers around the room but no one interrupted her, and it was a very sweet and thorough prayer. Good job, Bethany. Bless your brave widdle heart.

Lastly, here's a little memento of sorts for those who were present at yesterday's dino-dipping dinner at Tribal Headquarters. Since I didn't have my recorder with me, this is the closest I can get to being able to play back our sweet suppertime serenade. I have to tell you that I thought everyone involved in that scene was so gracious, even those of us who kept on sneaking little bites of chicken nuggets through our soloist's song. (You weren't alone, Becca.) And here is one conclusion I reached: awkward and beautiful can easily co-exist. And really, they have to at this stage of our existence.