Sacrament meeting began today with an announcement I surely wasn't expecting to hear: a lovely woman in every sense, Sister Jan Levie, had unexpectedly passed away over the weekend. I was shocked...and saddened..and honored to have known her for a short time. It wasn't that Sister Jan and I were close friends. In fact, we didn't often speak. But, over the last couple of years, the few times that we did interact were very significant and meaningful to me.
When I was called to be a teacher in Relief Society almost two years ago, I was ecstatic! I know others would rather do many a desperate thing than stand up in front of a group and teach gospel doctrine, sharing thoughts from their homes, heads and hearts. But I adore it. I LOVE to teach, always have. It's why I chose the career I did as young college student. I love the feeling of looking out over a sea of faces, some with smiles, some with fierce concentration...some even in tears, as you make a connection for just that one moment over a topic, a thought, an emotion. And this is most importantly why I will miss sweet Jan.
As I began teaching every few Sundays, I would look over the cast of women sitting in that room and read many things in the faces staring back at me. I might have been right in my assessments, I might have been wrong. But, nonetheless, I always assessed when I taught: am I expressing this thought just right? Am I teaching what the Lord wants? Am I preaching correct doctrine? Am I talking too much and not letting others share what is in their hearts? It's always a teaching tightrope one walks when daring to stand up and share...
I am sort of intimidated by the older women in my ward...not totally, but sort of. I know they have a lot of years of experience on me. I know they have wisdom I don't yet possess. And, yet, I am confident in my ability to draw from my own intellect, my own experiences and the overwhelming influence of the Spirit to guide me in my calling. And, in that, I have no intimidation. But, still...sometimes I read on those faces this look: "Poor dear, she doesn't really know what she's talking about. Maybe someday..." It might be in my imagination...it might not. Either way, there are always those few faces I search out in the audience each time I teach--the women I know will reflect to me the "right" expressions to propel me forward: the ones with smiles, a rising hand, a look of understanding...and approval. For me, Jan Levie was one of these faces.
No matter what lesson I gave, Jan would look at me with those soft, incredibly wise eyes, and no nonsense salt-and-pepper haircut and give me a wink, or a smile, or a constant nod of her head. And with it came immediate confidence to keep talking, immediate courage to share my thoughts, immediate feeling of love from one elder sister to one younger...and still growing....
She often shared her affinity for what I offered to her. She cried when I sang and told me how much it touched her, she hugged me and told me I wasn't ever going to top THAT lesson, she held my hand and said I'd made a difference in her life. Well, Jan, let me express to you, YOU have made a difference in mine. I love your phenomenal example of selflessness, wisdom to see life as it is with no frills necessary, and willingness to befriend any and all. You were a rare woman...and I will miss your smile, your encouragement, and your presence in my life...may God be with you 'til we meet again...
The Easter Bunny loot (with messages to the varmit posted on the fireplace!)
(I absolutely adore this pic--that belly is too cute)
