Last week while I was in Utah, they made a big announcement at church...
They're changing our meeting time from a 3-hour block to a 2-1/2 hour block! I've been waiting for this day since the moment I heard that my cousin's ward meets from 11:30-2:00. Shorter lessons, streamlining announcements, less numb bum...it is a happy day!
Oh, wait. That's just what I wanted to hear.
What they really announced was a special meeting next week to create a new ward [congregation] in our area.
After getting over the initial disappointment that my letter campaign and 1.2 million signature petition sent to church headquarters were being ignored I decided that maybe a little change wouldn't hurt us too badly. Mixing things up a bit can be a refreshing way to get off to a fresh start.
Then, people started speculating. Our leaders told us not to waste our time speculating, but we all did anyway. Our ward was going to get ripped asunder. Our bishop was going to be in the new ward. There wouldn't be any youth left. Eek, this could get ugly!
But then the worst rumor of all started spreading around. Everywhere we turned (literally) people kept telling us that we were definitely in the target zone to be zoned straight out of the ward and into a neighboring stake (that really does have fewer youth and primary).
Suddenly this "change is good" thing started losing its savor. I started losing sleep. Sleep that I did NOT have to give in the first place between my jet lag and early morning seminary hours. I laid awake at night wondering how we would tell our kids that we were in a new stake where we don't know anyone and that the nearest youth to us now lived 5+ miles away. How could we show support for our leaders while we were bawling at the mere thought of the boundary change?
Yesterday it all came to a head for me. We heard through more official channels that they really were zoning people to the other stake and that it really was in our neck of the woods. My worrying turned into full-blown panic.
I went to women's conference last night just praying that no one would start talking about it too much, because I was pretty sure there was no way I was going to be able to hold my emotions all together. As I sat there listening to the broadcast, I enjoyed the peace I felt there and the messages that were shared, but still had the nagging worry eating at me.
Then we came to the closing song,
"How Firm a Foundation". Not only did I just love joining in song with all the women in the stake, but I also loved that it was this song that my kids have been learning in primary this past year.
Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by my righteous, upheld by my righteous,
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.
Suddenly these words that I'd sung dozens of times with my kids over the last several months just sunk into my heart. Although moving to a new stake would be hard for us and way, way, way out of our comfort zone, it wasn't like we'd be left all alone. Wards are just gathering places for us to love and serve God and each other. It was then that I knew that we were going to be okay whatever the outcome was.
So what happened today?
Same ward. Same bishop. Lost only one family with youth aged kids. Stake boundary moved one mile closer to our house. 26 families moved to other stake. 109 other people to a neighboring ward in our stake.
Whew! We are safe, but change is hard, even when it's not you. Good friends and strong leaders will be sorely missed in our congregation, and it seems impossible looking forward that we can fill our callings with a third fewer people and still 100+ kids in primary. Then I remember...
I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand...
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.
We're going to be okay.
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