I Quit

If this is supposed to be my journal, then I guess I better be honest as well as complete, regardless of who is reading this. I quit my church job on Sunday. I was the teacher for the CTR 6 class. I was put into this calling about six months ago, but I just couldn't take it anymore. I know that we're supposed to accept any calling extended to us. I know that we're supposed to "magnify our callings" and grow with any given calling. But I just couldn't. Not with this one anyway.

Since the new year began, I have been feeling more stress than usual for me. I'm sure this is a result of working two jobs, running farther and harder than I ever have in my life, and the church calling. In fact, the church calling probably contributed more to the stress than all the others combined. Starting Friday night, I would agonize over having to prepare a lesson. This agony would continue until about, oh, 12:05 p.m. Sunday...exactly when church was being let out. Certainly not a coincidence. It was also a slight strain on my marriage as C would have to console me during these times of stress. So I finally decided the added stress just wasn't working for me.

I met with the Bishop during the second hour of church (thereby skipping a little of sharing time!). He said that he could have guessed this was coming, giving my honest report on my calling during December's tithing settlement. He also said that sometimes callings just don't fit, and that not everyone is meant to be able to do everything. I completely agree with this. (Although it makes me wonder how inspired callings truly are; but that's another post.)

But for now, the stress is certainly much lower. However, I can't feel truly great about my decision because I still feel like I failed. I wish I could say that I am one of those women who takes every weakness and turns it into a strength. But I'm not. And I'm not sure why. It definitely wasn't the teaching: I love the teaching. By now, everyone knows that I don't like kids. I simply had no desire to work on this "weakness" and learn to love them. I didn't want to prepare; I didn't want to spend two hours in church being with them. But why I think I'm any different from all the other people who don't like their callings is beyond me.

As a corollary to this story, when he was done meeting with me, the Bishop walked into the clerk's office, where C was working. The Bishop was then followed by his second counselor. The second counselor remarked that he wished he wasn't in the bishopric, but rather wished he was back teaching primary. Understandably, the Bishop laughed and said how funny that was "on so many levels."