R-E-L-I-E-F

Recently I was called as the first counselor in my singles ward's Relief Society.

Every time I hear the words "Relief Society" I sing that song from The Rescuers: "R-E-S-C-U-E, Rescue Aid Societyyyyyyyyyy." Except I sing with new lyrics that don't sound as good. "R-E-L-I-E-F, Re-elief Societyyyyyyyy."

But what can you do?

Part of the calling of the Relief Society presidency is to know and visit with all the women in the ward. The problem is, some of the women on our list haven't been to church in years. So in order to find out who they are, we have to go to their houses and knock on the door. It's kind of like tracting, except we're always looking for a specific person at a specific destination.

We do these kind of visits for two or three hours on one weeknight per week. So far, we've had lots of unanswered doors, wrong houses, and general confusion about addresses in general.

The last problem can be partially attributed to me, myself, and I. Let me tell you a shameful secret: I have minimal directional discrimination skillz. Sometimes I can't tell my right hand from my left.

It's an inconvenience when, for example, I'm looking in the mirror trying to do my hair and I have no idea which hand I need to move in order to finish the hairstyle. But when I'm trying to find an address, it becomes a much larger problem.

PERSON DRIVING: Which way?

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Right.

(car turns right)

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL:...I meant left.

Not even going to tell you how often the Relief Society president and I get lost whilst trying to find addresses, but it's a lot. A lot of times.

And then tonight, this happened:

MADAM PRESIDENT: What do the numbers on those houses say?

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: I'm not sure...

MADAM PRESIDENT: Here, let's drive by again.

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Now might be a good time to mention that I'm legally blind.