Sit Down!

Looking back, it sometimes seems like everything went wrong when I was called to serve in Relief Society, and not just little things.  Grandpa Russell died the day before I was called to serve as a councilor when I was twenty-five.  The Space Shuttle Challenger blew up two days after I was asked to be Relief Society President when I was twenty-nine. Both of my parents passed away this last time I was Relief Society President just a few years ago, but that's getting ahead of myself, so I'll go back and tell you about the first time.

On the last Sunday evening in January, 1986, Sheldon and I went to meet with our Bishop to get our temple recommends renewed.  After my interview the bishop surprised me by saying, "Gale, there's something else I need to talk to you about, if you will wait just a second while I go and get your husband to come in."

I guessed I was going to be given a new calling, I'd been serving as the Laurel Adviser in Young Women for two years, but I was totally in shock when, after Sheldon was sitting next to me, the Bishop said," Gale, I'd like you to be our new Ward Relief Society President. Sheldon, do you think you can support her in this calling?"

Sheldon was thrilled with the idea.  He always liked having reasons to be proud of people he knew.  I was flabbergasted!  I was only twenty-nine; I had five little children; Stephen was only four months old; and I knew there were more mature, experienced women in our ward who would do a better job than me.  I said yes, of course, but I was in shock!

It was a wonderful experience, though, and I never enjoyed a calling more than being Relief Society President, mostly because it gave me a chance to stay close to the spirit. Perhaps the most important thing I learned as Relief Society President was how to listen to the promptings of the Holy Ghost.  Often I would think about calling or taking something to someone, only to have them remark that I must have been listening to the Spirit because I was an answer to their prayers.  At first it really surprised me, but eventually I began to recognize the promptings on my own.  Then I began to wonder how many times in my life I had ignored that feeling, not realizing it was the Holy Ghost talking to me?

About a month after I was put in as Relief Society President Sheldon took me skiing.  He loved skiing, but I had only gone one time so I was still learning.  I thought I should practice a little on the lower slopes at first, but Sheldon was impatient to get to the top of the mountain and he assured me I could take the run slowly and I would remember what to do as I went. 

I got on the lift without too much trouble and didn't even fall down when I got off, so I was encouraged.  Sheldon took off on an intermediate run, but I carefully made my way over to a beginning course, and started down.  I didn't do too bad, and the basic technique did start to come back to me.  As long as I  kept my skis pointing in towards each other I did OK.  I worried about getting to the bottom of the mountain and having to stop, I couldn't remember how to do that, but I figured when I hit a flat spot I'd slow down.

Eventually I came out of a gentle slope above a steep part of the run, leading down to the chair lift and a flat spot where picnic tables were set up. Perhaps the mountain hadn't been groomed very well, at least that's what Sheldon later claimed, but for some reason there was a big, wide, steep hollow in the middle of the trail leading straight to the picnic area, and I got sucked into that dip.  My skis started sliding faster and faster down that slope, and I had no idea how to get out of it or stop before I ran into the picnic area.   

As I watched the tables rush towards me I heard a distinct voice inside my mind say, "Sit Down!"  Even while I was sitting, or rather falling backwards, I can remember being surprised that I knew what to do. I was lying on my back, legs first with my knees still bent and the skis on the snow when I smashed into a picnic table.  

Man, did that hurt!  At first I thought I'd broken my leg, but all it did was get a big bump and swell up.  Other skiers hurried over to me to see if I was OK, and although I was pretty shook up I was able to stand up and assure them I was fine. 

Then Sheldon came storming over, screaming and shouting at everyone and everything, as angry as I've ever seen him. I was so embarrassed.  He stormed around and yelled at everyone for letting there be such a dangerous place, but eventually he helped me onto the chair lift and we went up to the top of the mountain. There was a nice, warm cafe where I could sit and rest while he continued skiing.  It occurred to me, as I sat there letting the adrenaline slowly wear out of my body, that Sheldon reacted to fright by getting angry.  It was quite a revelation to me that he had really just been scared, which meant he loved me, and that was good.  I just hated that he got so mad and made a scene. 

Later that day I got back on my skis, although my leg still was sore and aching, and I learned some more got more confident.  I'll tell you what, though. I was sure glad my guardian angel knew how to ski better than I did, or at least he knew what to do in a crash better than me, because if he hadn't told me to sit down I would have hit that table at my waist and probably flipped over and really got messed up.