My roommate, who gets embarrassed for others easily, immediately pulled out her scriptures and started reading. I quietly wondered if singles wards are driving young single adults to new levels of madness because how could four out of every five "testimonies" borne be so weird? Then I worried that maybe the social awkwardness that seems to be seizing YSAs is contagious and I might catch it. Or worse, since I've been in the system for so long, maybe I've already caught it and I'm not aware. The horror, the horror.
While I was feeling sorry for those poor souls who clearly lacked any sort of social tact or propriety, my roommate tapped my shoulder and pointed to the scripture she happened to come upon (3 Nephi 18:22-23):
"And behold, ye shall meet together oft; and ye shall not forbid any man from coming unto you when ye shall meet together, but suffer them that they may come unto you and forbid them not; But ye shall pray for them, and shall not cast them out;"
We both looked at each other. CRAP. It was a sign. A warning.
And it got worse. Because when I was getting up to leave Relief Society, my foot couldn't support my weight (I think it had fallen asleep, like me, ha ha!) and I fell down. All the way down. On the ground. In a skirt.
Yeah. Pride goeth before a fall.
But still I wonder which is worse: Proving to the world that you're a klutz? Or committing social suicide at the pulpit?
Either way, I got the point, Lord. I'll try praying for them next time.