Fast Sunday

The ward I grew up in was blessed to have two young men with disabilities. I still think about these guys on fast Sundays because it always seemed to be a competition between the two of them to see who could get up to bear their testimony first. J usually won the competition, and would talk (mostly incoherently) about certain people in the ward. S would also talk about certain people in the ward, but his stream of consciousness dialogue would wander. Once S was kind of looking into the congregation and picking out faces he knew and saying how grateful he was for them. Having always sat on the third row, my family's faces were clearly visible from the podium. S's eyes landed on me at the end of his list of gratitude, and he added me, almost as an after thought by saying, "Even Kelsey."

It was funny at the time, and S got a laugh from the congregation as my ears turned pink. The story is still funny today. But as I remembered that S was grateful for 'even Kelsey,' I thought that is how I often feel when it comes to the love that the Savior has for me. His love is so perfect and all-encompassing that He could love 'even' someone like me who is so fallible and inconsistent. I'm in awe of the love that I feel from such perfect beings as my Heavenly Father and Savior. Just the feeling of their love makes me want to try much harder to be worthy of it.