By Linda Booth
Lee’s Summit, Missouri, USA
I never thought about or heard anyone talk about women serving in the priesthood until I had an unusual dream in the spring of 1980, when I was 32 years old. In my dream, Marvin, an older man who served as an elder in Osawatomie, Kansas, USA, told me to start preparing for a priesthood call.
I woke up feeling a strong sense of Spirit and awe. By afternoon I had discounted the dream, believing it must have been a figment of my ego.
That summer, I attended the Kaw Valley District reunion with our three sons. Sitting across the long dining-room table from Marvin during lunch, he told those sitting nearby that he believed someday women would be called to the priesthood. “The calls may be different offices than the priesthood calls for men,” he said. However, he was sure it would happen someday.
It was clear from the people’s responses that, like me, they had never thought about women in the priesthood. Some discounted Marvin’s speculation. Others were intrigued. I was astonished!
It was clear from the people’s responses that, like me, they had never thought about women in the priesthood. Some discounted Marvin’s speculation. Others were intrigued. I was astonished!
First because I never expected Marvin, whom I considered a conservative traditionalist, ever would think of women being called to the priesthood. Second, because his words confirmed my dream. The conversation was unsettling and caused much reflection and prayerful consideration that week and in the future.
That was the last time anyone mentioned women being called to the priesthood in my presence. And I didn’t raise the issue, either. I never spoke of my dream, but I thought about it often, beginning to prepare through study, meditation, and prayer—just in case.
My life was full, raising three sons and returning to university to complete my journalism degree. And, on a regular basis, I was asked to participate in worship services in the Olathe Congregation in Kansas, offering prayers, giving readings, sharing an occasional testimony, and serving on the Worship Planning Committee.
At that time it was unusual for women to participate in worship services or serve in roles considered “ministry.” I remember prayerfully preparing, concerned that If I didn’t do well, my offerings might not reflect well on women’s future participation in worships.
On Tuesday, 3 April 1984, I was driving into a University of Kansas student parking lot on my way to class when I heard breaking news on the radio. The newscaster reported that President Wallace B. Smith had presented inspired counsel to the church, calling women to the priesthood. I cried tears of joy!
On Tuesday, 3 April 1984, I was driving into a University of Kansas student parking lot on my way to class when I heard breaking news on the radio. The newscaster reported that President Wallace B. Smith had presented inspired counsel to the church, calling women to the priesthood. I cried tears of joy!
Several years later I was ordained an elder and served as pastor for four years. In May 1993, I was ordained a high priest.
In 1994 my life was practically perfect in every way. Our sons were grown, gainfully employed, and living on their own. My husband, Doug, and I enjoyed our empty nest, good incomes, and time together. I had the perfect job, working as director of Community Relations for the Olathe School District. My staff was awesome, and I served on many community boards, which I enjoyed. I also felt called and loved as pastor of the Olathe Congregation.
Life was good!
That year I agreed to serve as the first woman counselor to Paul Edwards, president of the High Priest Quorum. Paul wanted me to preside over two quorum meetings at the World Conference that spring. This concerned me because the quorum would be using Robert’s Rules of Order to discuss World Conference resolutions. I had attended High Priest Quorum meetings at past World Conferences and thought the nearly all-male quorum took a perverse pleasure in making amendments, substitute amendments, etc. I wasn’t an expert in Robert’s Rules, so I felt intimidated.
I studied Robert’s Rules and prayed a lot in preparation for that role. During Conference, I felt God moving in our midst in powerful ways. When I stood before the High Priest Quorum, God blessed me with peace and confidence.
Everyone looked forward to the last Sunday of Conference—the dedication of the Temple. Some experienced this remarkable service in the Temple. Because of the huge number of people, many of us were to participate in the Auditorium.
I was looking forward to the service as I passed through the Auditorium’s west corridor, which was packed with people walking and standing shoulder-to-shoulder, speaking many languages.
As I made my way through the maze of people, I heard a voice. Not really a voice. But a message that came directly into my mind: “Begin to prepare to serve as my apostle.”
Some might think these words would bring excitement or joy. For me, it was disturbing—even terrifying! Instead of entering the Auditorium Chamber, I turned around, walked to my car, and drove home to Olathe. I cried the whole way. I told God that I couldn’t do it! In fact, God couldn’t make me do it! And then I reasoned: Surely, the message was for someone else. Maybe I intercepted their message.
After two years of arguing with God, I surrendered. I told God that if serving as a woman apostle was God’s will, then I needed some assurances from God. I needed to know that if I stood before people and didn’t have the words to share, God would provide them. That if I traveled far from home, God needed to give me courage.
For several days, I didn’t tell Doug about the experience. When I got up enough courage to speak the words, Doug laughed and said, “You don’t even work for the church. Leaders don’t know you. You have nothing to worry about.”
His reassuring words gave me a temporary calm. But my worry resumed. I’d wake up in the night worrying. During the day, I’d think about it—and worry. I assembled a list of why I couldn’t be an apostle and began a two-year argument with God, telling God all the “why nots”:
“I don’t know enough. I’m not smart enough. I’ve never traveled alone. There are no women apostles. I’ve never seen a male apostle cry, and I occasionally shed a tear during preaching.” The list was long and kept getting longer.
After two years of arguing with God, I surrendered. I told God that if serving as a woman apostle was God’s will, then I needed some assurances from God. I needed to know that if I stood before people and didn’t have the words to share, God would provide them. That if I traveled far from home, God needed to give me courage.
In the surrender came a long-awaited peace.
In 1998, four years after the experience of calling during World Conference, a staff assistant in the First Presidency called me to set up an appointment to meet with then-President Grant McMurray. When I sat across from him beside the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Temple Meditation Garden, God was there in words of calling. God had prepared me. I now could say “yes” because of the assurance that God was near, in that moment and each moment to come.
I was ordained an apostle with Gail Mengel on 31 March 1998. I served in the Council of Twelve Apostles for twenty-one years and as the first woman president of the council for six years. I retired from full-time church service in 2019 and continue to serve, living my lifelong call as Christ’s disciple and God’s servant.