Line Upon Line

Today was the second week in our newly established ward.  We have a great bishop and I'm looking forward to getting to know him better.  His wife is incredible.  Easily one of the nicest people I've ever met.  The only callings so far have been to people in leadership positions.  The rest of us are filling in by taking over our previous callings until told otherwise.  There's plenty of chaos, but we're all managing.

I've been asked to fill in as the Nursery leader.  There is no secret that this is not the easiest place for me to serve.  Adults = easy.  Youth = iffy.  Children = hesitant.  Babies = fear.  I've been doing this for nearly a year now.  I was so excited to hear about the ward split.  Obviously we were heading toward the new ward and there would be plenty of opportunities to serve beyond the Nursery.  I even went out and purchased a couple April Conference issues of the Ensign in anticipation of fourth Sunday lessons (of course our Ensign subscription lapsed right before that issue came out and I'm a procrastinator).  I've been looking forward to winds of change.

Today I had gone down the hall for a second to run something by the new Primary president and I ran into our new bishop in the hallway.  I told him I needed some keys, the toy chests all have padlocks on them and they were all locked today.  We made do, but we'd need the key in the future.  Bishop told me he had a key for me, but he got stopped by someone else and I told him I'd get it from him later. 

Later came when I was taking a child to her mother (dirty diaper) and ran into Bishop again.  He suddenly remembered the key.  So we walked together toward his office.  I told him I knew I'd get it from him sometime, the poor guy was like a chicken with his head cut off.  Everyone needed him and I'm sure the mantle of Bishop is a heavy one even when you're not organizing a new ward from scratch.  He asked if it was that obvious.  I told him I thought he was handling it all very well.  He told me that he saw all of us running the classrooms and thought we were all handling things very well. 

The Lord works "line upon line, precept upon precept; here a little, and there a little (D&C 128:21).  My conversation with the Bishop was a line.

The second line hit me tonight when I read a blog post shared on Facebook by my friend Ana.  It talked about the story of Naaman.  Naaman was a leper and the prophet Elisha told him to go wash in the Jordan River seven times and he'd be healed.  He was reluctant at first (how could a dirty river cleanse him?) but he did it.  It was a simple act but he had expected to need to do something different.  Something grander. 

This blog post relates Naaman to the writer's expectations of motherhood (see the link above for the article, definitely worth reading).  She had expected something different.  And although I could easily go on about my own interpretation of that, the post hit me in a different way.  My opportunity to serve in the church.

Between talking with the Bishop and reading about Naaman, I've learned something.  It's not what I do.  It's my attitude as I do it. 

I have been expecting something different.  I expect my church attendance to fulfill my spiritual needs.  And to an extent, it should.  However, what am I doing between 5pm on Sunday afternoon when I leave the church building and 2pm the following Sunday when I report again?  Am I giving myself the opportunity to grow and learn spiritually in the peace and safety of my own home?  Am I living my life so my time spent at church is a supplement to my own efforts, or is it the only time I devote to my Savior? 

I have been waiting for a new calling so I can finally have adult interaction and socialization at church, stimulating lessons and discussions that keep my mind sharp, and a spiritual renewal that's kind of hard to experience when you're trying to keep 3-year-olds from climbing on the tables.

It's my calling's fault that I don't feel connected to my spirituality.

Right?

The Bishop was right.  So many people in our ward are handling the chaos well.  They are doing what they should.  Not because they were asked to, but because they know it's the right thing to do.

Where do I fit in? 

I've let myself become bitter and unwilling. 

It's my attitude that needs to be adjusted.  There's a good chance I'll be staying in the Nursery for a while longer.  I'm experienced and I take charge.  So how will I take the news if I'm asked to stay in the Nursery?

I realized tonight (line upon line) that I'll do it happily.  Those little kids (as much as they make me crazy after two hours of wrangling them) are beautiful.  One boy said to Josh last week, "You love me, I know you do."  Yes, you sweet boy.  How can we not? 

If I get my personal study back on track (it's been lacking quite a bit lately) and some other goals for our family completed, then church will once again be a supplement.  And maybe even a sanctuary.  Not the quiet kind with lots of meditating.  I mean, have you ever meditated with 20 toddler/preschoolers around you?  But if I can zone in on the innocence of the children and follow their examples to "becometh as a child" (Mosiah 3:19), I can find the sanctuary I need -- an escape from the world.