The week after I officially joined the singles ward I was called as the Munch'n'Mingle coordinator.
I didn't even know what a munch'n'mingle was.
Turns out that every third sunday a different auxiliary group is in charge of bringing treats for everyone to much on as we sit in the cultural hall and mingle.
only here's the problem i'm not a good mingler.
I hadn't been all that worried just because I had my brother (who everyone adores) and Kayla and Andy to be my support so I wouldn't have to feel so horrendously awkward all of my life.
Today is the third sunday. That means munch'n'mingle.
Andy is in St. George with his family
Kayla is home sick
and Danny is at work.
Horridly alone. Sacrament meeting went well.
Hannah sat next to me in sunday school thankfully.
But Hannah also taught the lesson in Relief society, but that was ok.
The panic didn't set in until I walked into the cultural hall.
People who didn't look at me, didn't talk to me, didn't acknowledge me.
Usually I prefer it that way.
It keeps me from having to feel awkward.
But just the fact that my calling requires being involved in this particular activity and actually participating, made me wish that somebody, anyone, would look at me.
I stood there for a minute or two, my eyes darting from table to table, group to group, working up the courage, working up the nerve. Trying to find my voice.
never knowing what to say or how to begin a conversation.
explosions inside my brain.
my ears and cheeks were hot
the lump in my throat was rising
and I could feel tears welling up
Then I bolted out of there and bawled in the bathroom for five minutes.
This is my calling.
It's going to take a lot of work
and it's going to take a lot out of me.
and it's going to be hard.
but this is my calling.