I have been a Relief Society teacher for about a year and a half now. I do the Teaching For Our Times bit, which suits me just fine. I am assigned a conference talk or three to pull my material from and I teach on the fourth Sunday of the month. It's been pretty great... last month was Elder Faust's talk, and the way it was scheduled, I taught it shortly after his death; it was like a tribute. This month the talks were Elder Uchtdorf's and Elder Nelson's talks, both of which were about repentance, and Saturday before was Yom Kippur.... how cool is THAT!?
On the off weeks I find myself substitute teaching in the Primary, as often as not. So much so, that we actually have a place to put the various lesson manuals to be returned, so if the teacher of whatever class comes for it and I'm not here, Dadguy knows where it is. Or vice versa, he subs a lot too.
I love this calling. I love the Relief Society, heck... the women teach most of the lessons for me; all I have to do is come up with the right questions to ask 'em, and off they go. The only problem is this "fourth Sunday" bit. The fourth Sunday has been, with one solitary exception, the day that I'd like to take off from church, and stay home to quietly bleed to death. That one exception was last month, and I exulted in the freedom of over-emotional teaching! I hollered "hosanna!" and figured that my body was resetting itself, and that there will BE no more standing in front of a roomful of women when I'd rather be hanging out at home with a hot pad. YAY!
Naw, I was back to my usual situation this month... and it just isn't fair.
I think it's part of the way the Lord keeps me humble. Or perhaps, my body is a traitor. On the lighter side... it sure does explain me getting all het up and pissy last week. On the darker side... it's official; even if I get pregnant this cycle, I will be 39 when I give birth. I really had wanted to be done before that.
... and maybe that is the real lesson here: patience.