Guest Author - Terrie Lynn Bittner

The Sunday after I was released from my beloved Primary, I had a dilemma. Although I had attended church in this building for over two years, I was not sure where the Relief Society room was. My friend laughed and said, "You know, it's the room where you take the Primary children when they're crying." Oh THAT room. Having been away from Relief Society for twenty years, I had come to see that organization as, well, sort of a nursery for mothers, to keep them busy and
entertained while their children went to Primary.

Once I made the mistake of calculating that I had not been to Relief Society more than a week or two at a time in twenty years, and then bragging about it, God knew it was time to fix my attitude. I needed to be converted to Relief Society. The first few weeks, I squirmed through Gospel Doctrine and Relief Society worse than a Sunbeam on afternoon schedule. How did people survive hours in lessons that never included flannel boards and finger plays? What was the fun of attending classes where students never thought the space shuttle delivered the tithing to God? And what, I wondered, did Relief Society actually do?

Because I was the compassionate service leader, I soon found out what the Relief Society does. As I attended board meetings, I was amazed at the depth of the programs, at how deeply the presidency loved the sisters and planned for them. Although I knew Primary leaders and Young Women's leaders discussed the needs of individual people and prayed for them, I had not really understood that Relief Society leaders, with the tremendous number of people in their care, also did so. I watched in awe as they noted which sister had been absent two weeks in a row, which one sat alone in class, and which ones stayed in the foyer during the meeting. They worried about those who might be hungry and too shy to admit it, about those whose health suffered, and about the newly graduated teenagers who didn't want to belong to Relief Society. They thought about how to make the Primary teachers have a sense of belonging. They struggled for creative solutions to the challenges of elderly sisters. There was no gossip or judgment, just love and compassion and a longing to serve. Our presidency put in long hours of quiet service that few sisters ever saw.

I began to pay more attention to the programs of the Relief Society. The literacy program taught sisters to read and helped parents teach their children. The visiting teaching program allowed a sister whose heart was troubled to be loved and watched over by two gentle souls. Enrichment night showed sisters how to cope with difficult days ahead and to make friends. "Why don't I pick you up and we can sit together? I don't know many people either." Sisters hesitantly taught their first lessons and were rewarded with hugs and praise. Food was delivered, homes were cleaned, the grieving were consoled and children were watched over when a mother was hospitalized. All around me, the Relief Society was quietly doing the work it had always done, and I had never noticed.

While no one ever did use a flannel board, I learned to look forward to the lessons, prayerfully prepared to help me return to my heavenly home. I learned new teaching techniques and pondered doctrine not taught to kindergartners. I discovered there were sisters in the ward who do not have small children and made new friends. I developed a tremendous respect and love for the Relief Society presidency and an awe for the overwhelming challenges they faced in leading a large and diverse group of women, some of whom didn't want to be led.

Most importantly, I learned the secret to getting converted to Relief Society: Get involved, volunteer, make a friend, teach a class. Don't just go to Relief Society; belong to it.

It was created by our Father in Heaven just for you.