Murphy's Law of the Gospel

We were asked three weeks ago to speak in church; originally, they asked us to speak on October 18th, but postponed it by a week due to a mission farewell. Adam and I worked on our talks a bit over the extended preparation period, but didn't really have anything of substance put together until last night. We have both been sick recently and I worried that I'd be sniffling and sneezing throughout my quip, but thankfully I'm on the recovery end of my illness. I went to bed last night with a minor headache, but knew I'd be okay to speak.

Adam went to bed last night with a minor headache, too, but he's on the incubation end of his illness, and woke up every hour or so with a violent cough and major congestion in his throat and lungs. I didn't know it because he slept downstairs and worked on his talk between episodes of sleeping and coughing, but during my shower, he peeked in and mouthed the words, "I feel like crap today!" because he didn't have even a shred of a voice.

Oh, the horror! He couldn't speak, which meant one of three things: I'd have to extend my talk on kindness to fill 25 minutes (it was barely pushing nine minutes in my practice run), I'd have to give my talk and his talk, or I'd have to coax my dad or a member of the bishopric to give Adam's talk. Lest you think Adam was ducking out of speaking, he really had no voice, and when he could muster a word or two, it sounded more like the gurgling of motor oil in an engine than a human vocalization. I felt so bad for him because he was miserable, and he felt so bad for me because I was on the verge of performing a one woman show for the entire second half of Sacrament Meeting.

Things actually went better than I expected; Adam kept Karli and Rex home with him, and Marianne (my saintly little sis) arrived at 8:30 to help me get Amber ready. We even made it to church with time to spare (can you believe it?!) and Adam had his talk all written out so I could give it without too many hitches. Granted, I'm sure I didn't deliver it with the fervor Adam intended, but for the most part, I think it went alright. The panic I felt when I was seated all alone on the rostrum (where was the promised youth speaker and musical performers?) left me when I realized that the youth speaker was blessing the sacrament and that the choir was going to sing, and Amber even made some adorable monster faces at me from the audience to try to get me to laugh. I managed to fill up all but seven minutes of speaking time and Bishop Tintle kindly added a few remarks at the end of the meeting. I can certainly say that I am glad to have our speaking assignment over. Now, if only we could get over our stupid, everlasting colds, we'd all be peachy!