About six months after I was baptized in 1999, I moved to Brazil with my family as part of an expatriate assignment. About a year-and-a-half after moving to Brazil, I was called to the bishopric of our small ward in Rio de Janeiro. And one day when the bishop was out of town, a new man, most likely a gringo, walked in and sat on the stand next to me right as I was about to preside over a Sacrament meeting for the first time. That man was Neil L. Andersen, who was just named in 2009 an apostle of the Lord.
At this time, Elder Andersen was one of the Seventies responsible for Brazil. Luckily, I had read the Ensign a few weeks earlier and seen that there was such a thing as Church authorities responsible for Brazil. Other than that, I knew just about nothing.
So, I got up to start Sacrament meeting, and fumblingly and in Portuguese welcomed people to the ward. We had an opening prayer and sang a hymn, and Elder Andersen leaned over to me and said, “umm, you may want to introduce me as presiding over the meeting.”
“Yeah, I’m a bit new at this, in case you can’t tell,” I whispered urgently.
“You’re doing fine,” he said. That made me feel better.
So, after the opening hymn, I introduced Elder Andersen and then bumbled my way through the Sacrament meeting. Luckily the ward was on cruise control, and everything went fine. The Sacrament table did not get overturned, the talks were fine, nobody got hurt. But by the end of the meeting, I had armpit sweat dripping into my shoes. I turned to Elder Andersen and said, “it’s a lot harder than it looks.”
“I know. You did fine.” And then he was gone (Sacrament meeting was at the end of our service in Brazil, so there was no reason for him to stay around for other meetings).
Based on what I have read about new apostles, Elder Andersen is probably suffering a bit of the nervousness I went through that day in Brazil. One of the things that happens to you when you are thrust into a new calling in the Lord’s Church is that you get a bit overwhelmed by the sense of responsibility you feel. But, Elder Andersen, I’d like to say: I’m sure you’ll do fine.