Rollercoasters and Reminders
Rollercoasters and Reminders My heart was heavy as we walked into the Toronto meetinghouse that Mother’s Day morning. I was a little self-conscious to be wearing slacks rather than a skirt, but I had known that space in my suitcase would be tight on our trip, and had decided that being there was more important than what I was wearing. Johnny was a little quiet, but I wasn’t going to press him. His sacrifice to come to church that morning may have seemed trivial to some, but I knew that it was mighty to my twelve year-old son. In his concert dress of black pants, white shirt, and tie, I knew that at least self-consciousness wouldn’t compound his disappointment. He looked like any other deacon. I wished that he was feeling more than just resignation, but I was impressed with and grateful for his willingness to be obedient, and wasn’t going to stir the pot. In the hallway, a woman welcomed us and introduced herself. I briefly explained that we were in Toronto for the week