In the days that followed, I consulted with Uncle Fred several times. While I was following Mom's advice of keeping obedient even in my writings, in reality I was terrified about my future. After a couple of visits with Uncle Fred, I told him I wanted him to know that I wasn't trying to resist the will of the prophet; I just needed more time. I would be more ready if I could just have two more years.

"I can't do this," I told him during another conversation. "You know, I just don't think this is right for me. I have prayed about it. I don't feel good about it. My heart and my gut just tell me that I need to grow up a little. And I need to prepare myself for this kind of responsibility."

Uncle Fred's tone was gentle yet firm. We had been talking about this for a few days, but finally he gave me a new response: "This is the prophet's calling, and you will have to take it up with him if you feel like you're not prepared."

A wave of relief swept over me. I had his blessing to contact the prophet about my situation. I walked out of Uncle Fred's office pondering what I would say when I got Uncle Warren on the phone the following morning. That night I barely slept, worrying about how Uncle Warren would react to my request to see the prophet, and I was lying in bed awake when the black night sky gave way to the purple lines of daybreak. I hadn't had much contact with Uncle Warren since my days at Alta Academy, and I knew I had to first speak with him before I could see his father. The thought of our conversation filled me with the same dread that I'd always felt as I climbed the steps to his office at Alta Academy.

That morning, Mom sat next to me as I picked up the phone to dial his office. Eventually, I was patched through to Uncle Warren, and in a shaky voice, I told him why I was calling. Trying my best to calm my nerves, I explained that I didn't feel the marriage was right for me, making it clear to him how old I was. "I don't feel like it's right for me to marry at this point in time. It's just that I'm not ready for this kind of responsibility."

I was frightened by the eerie silence on the other end of the phone. The lull was broken by the sound of his hypnotic voice. "Are you questioning the prophet and his revelations?" he asked.

Stumbling over my words, I tried to clarify that I wasn't trying to defy the prophet. "I just want to make sure he knows that I'm only fourteen and how I feel."

"I will speak to the prophet," Uncle Warren assured me. "I will tell the prophet that you feel that you're too young and need some time. Say your prayers." He said he would contact Uncle Fred after he had spoken with Uncle Rulon.


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