Our family is in the process of moving, and while we’re as giddy as rugrats over creature comforts like a dishwasher and central air, we’re in a very weird place right now.
We said goodbye to our ward of 19 years last Sunday. We were asked to close the Sacrament meeting with our testimonies and it was at that moment we realized what these people meant to us. Miss D.– who never talks of spiritual things– told her friends and teachers how much she loved and was going to miss them, and then suddenly launched into a heartfelt message of how “I know the Church is true– I really do!– and I’m just so grateful that I was born into a family that believes in it. And I know Thomas S. Monson is a true prophet.” Blew me away. To say the least, we’re nochalant about living the Church at home. For example, (and the Mrs. is going to kill me for saying this) once our family home evening consisted of watching “How I Met Your Mother” (you’ll be relieved to know we didn’t say opening and closing prayers around it, or sing hymns during the commercials). Somehow something took with Miss D., though, and for that I am grateful.
This past week has been weird for me. Last Sunday I met with the bishop for a final interview, met with my 1st assistant to pass on the notes and agenda, and said goodbye to my quorum. What didn’t occur to me was how unnerving it would be when no one calls you and you’re not calling anyone; no setting up meetings or service projects, no emergency blessings or rides to the temple. We’re not attending our new ward until next week, so I’m in the eye of a good old fashioned Catholic purgatory right now. I feel like calling the old bishop to see if I can help with anything– anything at all. A blessing, an exorcism. It’s like wanting to visit your high school the first week of the year after you graduated (Um, not that I did that).
I’m also nervous about the new ward. Our old ward is (to put it subtly) eclectic. This is Southern California, mind you, pretty close to the music, TV and film studios, and the congregation’s like a cast in a sitcom. My fear is this new ward– out in the ‘burbs– will be so white bread– so Utah County– I’m going to blanch like a steer skull on the Oklahoma prairie. At the same time I’m determined to keep my head low for awhile and enjoy not having to hunt for last minute teachers or smoke out inactives. Maybe there’ll be so much talent in the new ward, I’ll get relegated to something innocuous like second counselor in the Sunday school. Dare to dream.
Then there’s the issue of making friends in the new area. Of course we’ll still have our old friends, in and out of the ward, but we’ll see them far less frequently. Miss D’s been attending her new school for a month already (NOT a fun commute) so she’s already got a leg up in the chum department, and I’m sure she’ll collect a few more from YW. Of course we’ll be so preoccupied with home projects for awhile it won’t matter if we’ve no reason to pull out the fondue set. The project list is growing exponentially and even Dad’s (that’s me) wish list is coming along nicely (psst… anyone know where to get a boffo outdoor kitchen?) .But it can’t be that hard to find new friends. Maybe on craigslist?
I’m an intelligent guy, but navigation has never been my strong point, and this new neighborhood isn’t helping– Brigham Young was obviously not among the city planners. Just from initial jaunts I soon learned some of the streets actually intersect twice– WTH? And there’s not a straight one in the bunch; they all curve dramatically, leaving one with the distinct impression that you’ve turned 180 degrees without having made a single turn.
That said, I do love exploring and discovering new haunts. Find me a good hardware store and I’ll run errands every day– “Are you saying we’re out of window screen clips?? I’ll be back!” Find me a good bookstore and the wife will have to leave the night light on for me.
And when I locate the neighborhood 7-11? We’re talking New Jerusalem.
13 responses so far ↓
1 KLC // Sep 16, 2008 at 9:39 pm
Streets that intersect twice? Would that be Valencia?
2 s'mee // Sep 16, 2008 at 9:44 pm
ah, the *new* ward. You inspire a post in me, perhaps later on I will tackle this subject.
In the mean time, something to ponder on while you head out to grab a few more paint chips: you more than likely were prayed into your new ward. Someone there is waiting just for you or the Mrs.; your daughter is a Godsend to someone in the youth and the Bishop is needing to put patches on the elbows of his much tugged on coat when they (the axillary folk) see their answers walking in and sitting down on that third row from the back on the left side bench.
Don’t get too far from that phone, I think I hear it ringing already.
3 David // Sep 16, 2008 at 9:45 pm
Very good, KLC! Valencia it is. I see you are no stranger to the gift of discernment.
4 s'mee // Sep 16, 2008 at 9:45 pm
oh, and the brethren you have in your photo? Um, yeah, their all dead, but buried in my ward.
5 s'mee // Sep 16, 2008 at 9:45 pm
(they’re)
6 David // Sep 16, 2008 at 9:48 pm
s’mee,
Well, let’s just hope they find their “answers” after a few weeks. I need a rest.
Did your ward already do Gabby Hayes’ work? Doggone it!
7 KLC // Sep 16, 2008 at 10:00 pm
And no stranger to getting lost in Valencia…
8 cheryl // Sep 16, 2008 at 11:35 pm
I have been calling-less (minus being in charge of Youth Conference –lasted 3 weeks –and being in charge of our Annual Neighborhood Picnic –lasted 6 weeks and ended Saturday) for about 5 months. We lived in the ward for 5 years, moved to the Bay Area (CA) for a year, and moved back last March.
I am trying to learn patience, but I am going CRAZY not having a calling! Crazy! So crazy, I’m about ready to request being in Cub Scouts or Nursery.
Good luck with your move and your transition. I’m sure it will all work out (how could it not?) but in the meantime, have fun memorizing maps and store locations.
P.S. My hubby is from Ventura County, and although we now prefer NorCal, that area is pretty nice if I do say so myself.
9 David // Sep 17, 2008 at 4:55 pm
cheryl,
In my old ward, the catch-all calling to make one feel included is the Activities Committee. There must be 50 people on that team. It’s a way station (like the Great Greek on the road to Vegas) until the bishop can figure out what to do with you.
10 Karron // Sep 17, 2008 at 5:57 pm
I am very familiar with all you said, David. We have lived in no less that 12 wards or branches in the past 25 years. It can be very disconcerting to be the ‘new family’ unless there are a lot of new people moving in around the same time. Take your time jumping in. Sound like you need a rest anyway.
Cheryl, I went without a calling for two years. The two years before that I was stuck in the Family History Center every Tuesday night. Before that I was first in the Relief Society Presidency and then the Seminary Teacher. Needless to say I was bored beyond belief for the last four years. Now I have a calling along with my husband as the Building Reps. Basically glorified janitorial managers. Again, boring, but it is better than nothing! I had to get proactive and collar the Bishopric and insist on a calling.
Anyway, David, congrats on the house. Oh, and on the street thing . . . try living in London. Not only do their streets intersect twice, or more, but the name changes every quarter mile, and then changes back. I learned pretty quickly to take a taxi if I wanted to get anywhere fast.
Karron
11 Clean Cut // Sep 19, 2008 at 1:27 am
Good luck with the move. The sooner you find that 7-11 the better. As I was carrying all of our things in from the moving truck to our new house in the heat of summer last year, I started craving a Slur-pee. To my horror I soon learned that there are no longer any 7-11′s in San Antonio.
12 David // Sep 19, 2008 at 6:00 pm
Karron,
Re: London– No wonder they talk funny over there.
Clean Cut,
Ain’t it the life, though? The smell of fresh-scorched 7-11 coffee, shouldering past tattooed construction workers and the terrorist cell smiles of happy cashiers. Who says this is a lone and dreary world?
13 cheryl // Sep 19, 2008 at 8:22 pm
Karron-
2 years!? Yikes! I guess I was a little too anxious to complain. 2 years? Man alive…
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