On Sunday we arrived at church (late as usual-- but to be fair it starts at 8:30) and headed to our classes. While Shawn was in Priesthood and I was in Primary we were summoned by one of the counselors in the Stake Presidency.
This is what we hear: "Buenos Dias, something something hasta mañana mummble, somthing importante que something, somthing something something servir something parte something, something fuerte something."
I look at my sweet husband and he looks at me and I say, "I didn't get any of that did you?"
"NOPE"
The man repeats again what he wants and at the end I look at my husband and say, "I think they are calling you to be the first counselor in the bishopric."
My sweet husband feeling overwhelmed by the HUGE language barrier says, "When do you need to know?"
"Sometime before sacrament."
With about an hour to come to terms with this new calling we sat, talked, prayed and cried. Okay I cried. And now I will sit by myself during church, kiss my Tuesday nights good bye and probably have to stop cursing. But I will pray for strength... and the gift of tongues and enjoy the service.
