Sorry that last post was such a downer. It wasn't meant to be a pity post, rather a little glimpse of a weak moment and the strength I found on this site. Ever since I was called into Primary I've had trouble feeling close to my Savior. I used to worry I was broken. I watched men and women stand on Sundays and bear testimony of all the things they'd learned from the little children, and there I sat feeling disjointed somehow. I even resented my calling a bit.
Through that trial I found comfort in two things. The first was my limited interaction with the children. I'm mostly running around with armfuls of rolls and paperwork, not teaching. How could I possibly gather bushels of humble, childlike insight when I’m not spending so much time with the children?
Even with that new attitude I desired adult Sunday School and Relief Society. Between Andrea and “singing time” I didn’t feel like I was getting much in-depth instruction. It took me almost a year to discover that my lack of spiritual progression was not because I wrestled a baby all through Sacrament Meeting. It was not because I was in Primary and not an environment geared toward adult learning. It was because I wasn't putting in my effort at home. I was praying and reading my scriptures, but I wasn’t pouring my heart out to the Lord or feasting on the words of Christ.
I’m trying to do better, and in doing better I’ve not only found comfort in times of difficulty, but I’ve learned to not resent Primary. In this more open state I allowed myself to be exposed to some amazingly funny things.
Most Sundays our resident super hero, Captain CTR, pays a visit to our Primary. He spotlights children who’ve been choosing the right in their homes, at school, or in church. As children move in to our ward I try to collect some spotlight-worthy information about the newcomers. One little boy when asked what he did to choose the right said, “Spiderman!” I asked him again, trying to prompt a different answer. “Spiderman!” He said.
“Do you share your Spiderman?” I coaxed.
He smiled. “Spiderman!”
I wrote it down. Spiderman chooses the right. . . right?
Today I asked a little girl how she’s chosen the right. She said, “I get rid of hiccups.” I asked for another example and she said, “I visit my daddy’s work for a party.” Good enough for me.
Last week Captain CTR said he was going to spotlight a boy. A little four year old shouted, “I’m a boy! I’m a boy!!” Then he grabbed his pants to show us. Awkward.
I spend so much time sitting in the back of the Primary room laughing that I should probably be paying the parents for this entertainment.