Last night we had to take a picture of our Relief Society presidency. It was due on 31 December as part of our auxiliary history to send to the annals of the Church in Salt Lake City (oh how I have come to love those annals on my previous monthly trips to do research/contract work). So we're a little late with the official portrait of our presidency. And a little unorthodox.
Only there's a lot you can't see in this picture. Beyond our classic Sunday attire (yes I'm in purple pjs with my green sweater) and the rest are in jeans and khakis and fuzzy socks--we do not dress like this for Sunday, I promise), you see our perfectly coiffed Relief Society hairstyles. No--this is solidarity, sisters. Everyone chose a hat from my hat rack.
But the thing about these women is this: they truly know the meaning behind lifting hanging hands and strengthening feeble knees. They have filled every Relief Society need while I've been literally flat in bed, as I have been the past three days. They have attended all meetings, visited the needy & downtrodden, fed the hungry, met the new move-ins, coordinated and invited and planned and carried out. I've experienced it firsthand in my absence, because they have done it for me, too: comforted, fed, visited, planned, coordinated for me. Literally yesterday as I hit an emotional and physical bottom, they lifted my hanging hands and strengthened my feeble knees.
So take that, Salt Lake City. Not your picture-perfect Relief Society presidency, but one that provides perfect relief.