When I was a small child I remember my Parents taking me to see the bishop in his office at the church. He was a giant of a man with huge hands, but very nice too. He asked me a few questions and then my Parents were happy and I remember hearing that I had graduated from junior primary to senior primary.

The next Sunday I was re-united with all of the other kids who had disappeared from Junior Sunday School and I figured it out, they had graduated before me, they didn't just disappear. In class the teacher asked for volunteers to give a 2-1/2 minute talk. Me, being unencumbered with life experience, eagerly raised my hand. The teacher pinned a note to my shirt for my Mom to find.

A few days later my Mom handed me a 3X5 card and asked me to read it to her out loud. I could read but not real well so I proceeded to stumble on the big words and read what she had written. Then she scribble a few words out and had me read it again. Then again. She made me read this card several times a day over the next week. I still didn't connect the dots.

Come Sunday morning we got ready for church and both of my Parents were happy. Little did I know. At church I was told to go sit on the stand with the Bishop. My feet not only didn't reach the floor, but they weren't long enough to even make the bend of the bench. My Mom had handed me this card and told me to watch the bishop.

After a while I seen the bishop move a 2 step wooden stool over behind the podium and then give me an approving nod. I don't think that I'm all that bright, but within a split second I figured out what was going on. Dutifully I walked over to the stool. I can still see it in my mind. Dark brown with a slot cut in the top for your hand to move it around.

I climbed up the two steps and looked over the top of the podium at all the people staring at me. The bishop came up from behind and positioned the microphone right in front of my face. I somehow knew that a lady wouldn't be standing behind me whispering to me what to say, a few words at a time.

I started reading the card, word for word. No sooner had I started when I heard a loud shriek and there in the third row was a lady sitting with her head back, mouth open, and eyes blinking real fast. People on either side stood up and layed her down on the bench. She was making loud gurgling sounds that scared the crap out of me. I heard the word Epilepsy that day.

The bishop touched my elbow and said, "go on" so I started climbing down the steps. I thought that I had just seen someone die. The bishop stopped me and said to continue my talk. Jesus, someone had just died and he wanted me to keep talking?! I started again and read the words as fast as I could and then said amen.

I'm not exceptionally brilliant by any stretch, but the next week in Sunday School when the teacher asked for volunteers to give a talk, I sat on my hands and looked at the floor. I tried to make myself as small and inconspicuous as possible. When asked, I said, "I just gave a talk". This worked for maybe the next 2 years.

Over the course of the next 40 or so years I continued in the ways of the mighty morg. It wasn't until I was in my 50's when I learned the most important word I ever could know. That word was NO.

Brother Beeper, will you speak in sacrament meeting next week?

Well, I'd rather not.

I Lord has inspired me to ask you to speak about the love our Savior has for us, will you do it?

There are lots of other people who could give a much better talk than me.

Brother Beeper, can I count on you for this?

Hmmm, NO.

What power that little word holds. I worked the hell out of that word over the next decade. I still remember that word, but I don't need it much anymore.

Did you ever use the word NO within the morg environment?

I'm learning more and more with practice. I actually don't remember saying no growing up. Pretty sad.

Honestly, the first time I actually remember saying "no" was when I was back from my mission, mostly inactive, and the bishop called me in and asked me to teach the 14-15 year old Sunday School class.

I said no. And left for good.

I was in P hood and they asked me to pray..

I said NO width a long silence

priceless moment as they all tried to realize what had just happened..

NO ?.....

they had that look like...wow someone took their balls out of their wife's purse.

Back in the day, I was asked to be a counselor in the Stake Relief Society Presidency. I was absolutely shocked by this, as I was starting the process of leaving mormonism behind. I told the Stake President "No". It was a very scary moment for me, but once I said it, an overwhelming feeling of relief washed over me.

Later, I saw the woman who had suggested my name. She confided in me that I was more "inspired" than she was because she found someone else who was perfect for the position. Haha.