Rough Stone Rolling

Strange day yesterday. It left me licked and demoralized.

Waah. Waah Waah.

It started with PEC, in which I gave the spiritual thought. In a nutshell, I explained how, not too long ago, I would always be frustrated about something: Work, home, even the smallest things. Then as I became more engaged in my callings and sought to serve others, I soon found myself swimming with the current, and I was happier. I quoted Matthew 11:28-30 and added that, although I’ve read and heard that scripture dozens of times, it didn’t have a personal meaning for me until I went through that process.

It was like throwing down the gauntlet.

Before the block started, my assistant handed me printouts of the updated home teaching assignments so I could pass them out. It had taken him a while to finish because the writer’s strike was messing with his work schedule and, in fact, he had to go to work right after sacrament. However, soon after I started handing the assignments out, brethren were returning to me with mistakes. Normally this would be something I could have taken care of with the assistant right away since he oversees the home teaching, but because of his job situation I’d be lucky to catch him sometime during the week. (Note to self: Have sit-down with assistant and tell brethren these lists were carefully chosen by the Spirit and they better be careful with their insubordination.)

Later in Priesthood, the teacher, a college instructor of whom I am a big fan, chose to give Lesson #1 of the Joseph Smith series by sharing his impressions of the prophet and not once opening the manual. Afterward, a member of the bishopric confronted me– fit to be tied– saying the lesson was garbage and as the leader it was my responsibility to make sure teachers follow the manual explicitly. He was right, of course, but frankly I was waiting to see where the teacher was going with the preamble, and by the time I realized the destination was nowhere, the class was almost over. (Note to self: Prep teachers and give bishopric member my copy of “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living.”)

Afterward, I tried to get a minute with the bishop before going to a PPI at the stake center. I waited for him as long as I could, but he had someone in there a long time, so I left. At the stake center, I waited patiently for another meeting to adjourn that I assumed the stake president was involved in– I needed to get my PPI out of the way so I could go to a home teaching appointment. Twenty minutes after the PPI was scheduled, the meeting finally broke out and I learned the stake president wasn’t even in the building. I dashed back to my ward hoping to catch the bishop before he left– he was already gone a 1/2 hour before he said he’d leave. Then I picked up a friend’s son to accompany me to the home teaching appointment (it was a single sister), and that was actually executed without any problems.

By the time I got home it was 5:00, I hadn’t eaten yet, and I was physically drained and morally deflated. Thankfully, my family wasn’t home, so I just sat and contemplated the day. I questioned my spiritual in-tune-ness and ability as a leader, and wondered how long it would take before others noticed my ineptitude. It was then I realized it all started with that morning’s dang pearl of wisdom in PEC, and I knew I had just been given a pop quiz from on high.

While I have been more engaged in church duties recently, this experience made me realize I need to take ownership even more. I make the mistake of assuming everyone thinks and responds like me, so in my attempts at delegating responsibility without proper guidance, I get bishopric members yelling at me and brethren home teaching dead people. I talked with the bishop this morning, shared my day and what I learned, to which he laughed and exclaimed, “Welcome to Church administration!” He said he’s dropped the ball more times than he’d care to admit and added that I was chosen for the position because I “get it”– now I have to help the others that don’t. And yesterday was just another step in growing in my position. He certainly has a way of making me feel valued and on course.

What gets me is how easy my predecessor made it look. He had already been a bishop, stake president and mission president, so by the time he got to HPGL, it was like being put out to pasture for him. For me, it’s like taking that “Turbo Sweat Shop” class at my health club. The way I figure it, we’ll be moving within the next 6 months. If I can just throw myself into this gig a little more, a little longer, I’ll be able to blend into anonymity in the next ward, even for just a short while. Then maybe I’ll be assigned something benign and invisible like second counselor in the Sunday School. Then I’ll be able to say: “You can’t yell at me– I don’t do anything!”