What?

So, there I was, minding my own business, getting ready for bed Saturday evening when the phone rang. Unsuspectingly, I answered it.

Could I bring my wife to an interview with the Stake President tomorrow (last Sunday)?

Um, she's in a meeting until Church starts, I say.

No, this is important. Pull her out of the meeting.

OK.

No sleep Saturday night.

Sunday morning - a walking ball of nerves. Trying to be extra nice to everyone to make up for all of those times I snapped and yelled and poked and cajoled, hoping that it would be enough. It wasn't. Still nervous.

Get to church. Trying to fend off questions from my kids about why I have to meet with the Stake President. I don't know. I honestly have no idea. Releases are usually handled by the High Council. Callings for the Elder's Quorum are also usually handled by a High Council member or a member of the Stake presidency. Not the man himself... Not good.

Sitting in with the Stake President. Ah, those last few innocent moments...

Do you know why you are here? - Pres. Smith

No idea. - Me

That's OK. Sometimes people have an idea about why I want to speak with them. Not knowing makes it even more fun. We've been impressed with you and your family and we want to stretch you a bit and give you some new opportunities . We would like to call you to be the (dramatic pause - what seems like an eternity but is really more like a couple of nanoseconds) 2nd counsellor to the bishop. - Pres. Smith

Wow. - Me

Uh, the short answer is yes - Me

President Smith said a bunch of other stuff about how to be a good counsellor. I listened politely, but I can't feel my body anymore. I feel like my eyes and ears exist, but nothing else. Are they sure? I mean, this is ME, don't they know? Man, I am in for it this time.

Then he says, and of course I knew it was true also, but didn't want to believe it, that they'll have to ordain me to be a High Priest.

High Priest? I mean, I guess I knew this was coming sooner or later. But I am just a kid. I am only 33 years old. I'll never be able to go to another Elder's Quorum meeting again.

I am overwhelmed. For the next two hours I can't breathe properly. I get sustained and move to sit on the stand. I find my shoes infinitely more comfortable to examine than the faces of the ward members, with their mixture of disinterest and acute examination...

Then the bishop ordains me a High Priest. President Nelson, 2nd Counsellor in the Stake Presidency, sets me apart with a very beautiful and sweet blessing that reduces me to a blubbering mass of mucus and tears. I am a complete basket case.

It's still not real. Bro. Sherman called me (he's the one who was released) and wants to give me the keys and books and things I'll need. He doesn't need them any more. His voice shines with unmitigated glee and relief - he's been in the bishopric for six years, and he's ready to move on. Bless him. He's a great man.

I hope I can live up. I hope I am worthy. I am humbled.

I wish I could feel my body... It's all so surreal.