It's the little moments that can make all the difference.

**Just FYI, this is mostly to help me remember this day...since I've never written it down before. So...now you've been warned. ;) 

I remember everything about the moment it happened.

I was still in my pajamas, arms hugging my knees, pulling them to my chest, frozen to the chair in my parent's kitchen. The T.V. was on and there they were, singing, just like they have been my whole life. But this time, instead of being the background music to my thoughts, everything was on fire inside me, and that song was the message for which I was the surprised and somewhat unwilling recipient.

I had so many questions, and wasn't even looking in this direction for the answer. But like I always tried to do before General Conference, I had written down some of the things troubling me the most. And, like most genuine answers to difficult questions I've had before, this one was something I hadn't considered before. At least not in depth enough to act on it anytime soon.

It was the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, singing "The Spirit of God" in the April 2011 Sunday morning session

And somewhere in the middle of that song, I felt that familiar feeling I've only felt very few times before in my life; that feeling of something I KNEW was going to happen. Before it even happened. It's like a little unspoken whisper, telling me of something to come. I always have this moment of almost disbelief...because...how could I know such a thing? But almost instantly, my personal disbelief is replaced by a reinforcing feeling of absolute truth I know hasn't come from me at all. Every time that has happened, that certain thing has come to pass fairly soon thereafter. Right there, in that moment, I knew I was supposed to be singing with those people, in that choir, and that NOW was the time to prepare everything, and go forward. NOW.

It was incredible. And weird. And not what I had been looking for at all.

I remember sitting there, surrounded by my family, who were all basically unaware of my inability to speak or move. I think we were eating pancakes for breakfast, of all things. Haha. Clearly not a time to notice your frozen sibling who just had a moment of personal revelation that she was going to be in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. What in the world was I supposed to do with that kind of information?? So I did what any normal human being would do, and kept eating my pancakes.

I couldn't even write it down in my notes at first because I was still reeling. But a few minutes later, I did. At least enough for me to know what I meant. I still felt a little foolish writing, "You're going to be in the MoTab. That's weird and awesome. And not what you were asking at all right now. But it's true." SO instead I just cryptically wrote a little note to myself to "Prepare now for the privilege you have felt can be yours in spreading the gospel in your life." with a little note next to it about the choir and what they'd just sung. (Don't worry, I just went back and found it.)

I didn't really ever have any plans to tell anybody about that experience, let alone write it on my blog for just anybody to read. But just one year after writing that down, I was singing with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir in that same April conference, my first session singing with them officially. And was it incredible and wonderful and weird still? You bet it was. Not only that, but it had also been HARD. I sometimes found myself wondering for most of that first year what I had done to my life. It took so much time, and so much sacrifice, and so much of what I had planned on using to do other things. But every time I thought about quitting, about taking it back, my mind would go back to moments like the one I just described, when I knew I was supposed to be doing this. Whether I understood it all the time or not. Whether it was easy, or whether it was hard.

Looking back now, after completing one year with this choir,  almost two years after that initial experience, I feel like the fog of difficulty and uncertainty is finally clearing. I am finally starting to see the personal blessings of this turnaround in my life. I imagine it's just like any other unexpected change that comes in life. It can seemingly turn everything upside down for a while. But after enough time has passed, and you gain just a little more experience, you finally start to see the point.

I felt that incredible feeling that morning in April 2011, and then experienced some more periods of trial and frustration as I worked toward that goal, and even after I had "obtained" it. But just recently, this past December, only a little over a month ago, during the First Presidency Christmas Devotional, I came full circle.

This time, I don't remember what we were singing, or at what point during the devotional I felt this way, but I distinctly remember sitting down in my assigned seat, and glancing over to my left, where most of the rest of the choir was sitting. And this time, it was quieter, and felt more like the hug of a dear friend who knows you completely. And the feeling that came in that moment was one of being "home." I really was exactly where I was supposed to be, and where I needed to be. There are a hundred reasons for me to feel this way so far, and I'm sure I'll discover a million more as I keep going.

Back in that April 2011 General Conference, President Monson said, "The Lord will help you perform that which you have rehearsed!" and I wrote it down so I wouldn't forget it. It's true musically and on a stage, but it has also been true in my life. And I'm so grateful I know my Heavenly Father is there to help me with all the things I don't understand, and help me go where I have never gone before. It will probably never cease to amaze me how much he loves us, and wants our ultimate, real happiness.

Doctrine & Covenants 78:17-19 has been a favorite scripture of mine since I was 19 years old, and probably for good reason. I've needed the reminder over and over and over again. "...Be of good cheer, for I will lead you along..."

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