Whose Fault?

Given this is C and E, I figured I could go ahead and post for a change. I do read the blog and the comments, but today a conversation at work has inspired me to go ahead and see what people outside of my high school math department think.

First off, a little bit of background is needed. I was sitting in the math office during lunch and 3 other teachers were discussing the pastors at their relative churches. One of them was talking about how their pastor's daughter was pregnant and how she was so impressed with the pastors wife when she stood up in front of the congregation and took 100% responsibility for her daughter's situation and that she felt as though she was too busy caring for everyone else and forgot her own. The teacher then added, "it is still in part [the pastors] fault too." When I heard this, I had to chime in. I asked, "why isn't it the children's fault?" This led to a fairly heated conversation about if a pastor's child isn't perfect is it okay for a congregation to lose respect for the pastor...etc.

As a parent, I know that e and I will do all in my power to do the best to teach Rhett and help him to make good decisions. If he makes poor choices, we will do our best to support him and help him to overcome mistakes and grow from them. If he makes mistakes would it be okay for people to judge me? Better yet, if I were a bishop would it be more okay then? If the prophet's children make mistakes would we judge him for that? Should our positions within the church change how we are looked at when our children make mistakes? According to those here at work, our opinions should change. I could see passing judgement on a leader for their own mistakes and shortcomings, but should the actions of children lead to judgement on the parents?

Credit When Credit's Due

I've never been a "I-lost-my-keys-and-then-prayed-and-then-poof!-there-they-were" type of girl. I believe that Heavenly Father can and does intervene at times...for you, not necessarily for me. Not that I'm bitter; I'm not. Instead, I believe that Heavenly Father gave me a brain and that I am expected to use it. And I do. It's that simple. However, in the past 24 hours I've had an experience I cannot chalk up to my genius alone.

Here's the long, long story reduced to only semi-long: In yesterday's mail Chuck and I find that our mortgage holder has found that our escrow account is running a deficit. (And this coming the day that I'm already feeling incredibly financially tapped; it was not a good day.) In order to fix this, we must either pay $2,000 immediately or spread that $2,000 over the next year, by an increase in our mortgage of nearly $200 per month. This increase would not be an easy thing for us, in fact it would be nearly devastating. After the tears evaporated (or were licked, I forget which), I spent a lot of time on the phone with those I deem on par with HR workers: idiots, in other words. In addition to the stress of the mortgage escrow account problems I find that I have not received a property tax credit that I was due months ago. But the good news: I might be on a list somewhere to receive said credit. Oh the joy.

When Chuck, Rhett, and I say our family prayers that night, we pray that things will work out. I silently plead for the blessings of tithe paying to come upon us as, well, we're faithful tithe payers.

Here's where the story gets good (and ends): In all of my research and hours and hours of being on the phone today, I am able to put together all of the pieces of this sordid tale. I find that not only is my escrow account not in shortage, but the mortgage company prepaid my taxes through the end of the year (hence the shortage). And that tax credit? Being mailed to me. Today. From owing $2,000 to receiving nearly $600--that's a $2,600 swing people.

The moral for me: Yes, Heavenly Father can and does intercede, even for me. I still have to work for it, however. That doesn't mean that I'm any less grateful however. But don't you worry; I haven't gone all crazy religious on you. I don't expect steaks on my doorstep, well, not yet anyway. (See the fourth story.)

Shameless Plea for Help

A few months ago I was called to be the co-chair of the Activities Committee in my ward. Surprising even myself, I don't hate it. As it's not a calling from which I can slack, I don't. And as it's not a calling where I have to be at church every single Sunday, well, let's just say the pressure is off.

I was called in June. Luckily, the August activity and October's activity are yearly events. No extreme creativity is involved with recycled events, although they still require planning and work. Since we all know by now that I am re-creative rather than creative, I need help. While I believe in traditions, I also would like to try new things for 2009. So, anyone been to any ward activities that they enjoyed? Please share!

And to show you that I've been working on it, I've come up with a couple of my own ideas (read: I've searched the internet to find these ideas). Tell me which would be cool, just eh, or lame. Ward Olympics (maybe better in Winter 2010?), Book of Mormon night (I know, I know, probably not something I'd go to, but not everyone's like me...thank goodness), Yak and Snack, Game show night (Family Feud, Name that Tune, Survivor, Price is Right...), No Talent Show, Luau, Ward 5K. Okay, your turn.

And since I couldn't think of a picture relating to the ward activities calling, you get this. What is this, you ask? It's a hat I found online that is supposed to help babies sleep. And boy does it work! The past two Sundays we've been able to get Rhett to nap during Sacrament meeting, something that hasn't happened since he was really wee. And if we could have stopped laughing (and if the family in front of us could have stopped laughing) maybe he would have even slept though Sunday School!

This is Not Pornography, I Promise

There was a recent article about this in the Washington Post. What do you think ladies? Will you be adding this calendar to your Christmas wish list?

P.S. Now, now, before you go and start your own, a fan club already exists for these beauties.

Satan Really Doesn't Want Me to Go to Church

I received two phone calls this weekend. I'll relate the second call first, as it was far less harmless.

C and I had been out of the house, and when we returned, there was a message from a brother in the ward asking if we "would be willing to clean the church tomorrow, since we missed our scheduled day last Saturday." Let me say that our scheduled day was certainly NOT that previous Saturday. It was a few Saturdays ago, and we were there. But I decided that when I returned his phone call I wouldn't mention this insignificant fact. When I called him and told him that I'm sorry, but we're unable to help tomorrow morning, he then said that "Well, it's our ward's turn again in December...blah blah blah." So, of course, I had to say something. I waited for him to finish and said, "Actually, did you say on the message that we weren't there last Saturday? You're right. We were there on Saturday the 8th, as assigned." He was silent for a second and then said, "Oh, I must have had you mixed up with someone else." Darn straight you do.

Can I ask a couple of questions about this? I'm okay with him not being able to pick us out of a line-up, but we're talking names and numbers on sheet of paper. How can that get mixed up? Also, he never even comes on those Saturdays to see who is there and who isn't. How could he have even known if we had skipped out on cleaning the church? Maybe it's just his ploy to get people to feel bad for shirking their duty and guilt trip them into helping last minute. Ha! We're on to you Brother!

And now for the much more offensive call. It's easier if I report it in transcript form. I will be known as "me" and the caller will be known as "Miss Cleo," for reasons to become evident.

[Phone rings at the house of C and E. E answers. Please realize that we do not have caller ID at our house. Therefore the identity of the caller was unknown upon answering.]

me: Hello?
Miss Cleo: Good afternoon.
me: Hello??
Miss Cleo: Good afternoon.
me: Hello? [slightly annoyed]
Miss Cleo: Good afternoon.
me: Hello? [really annoyed and much louder]
Miss Cleo: Good afternoon.
me: Hello???? [I'm sure you can guess this one's tone.]
Miss Cleo: You know, it's okay to say "good afternoon" to me.
me: I didn't realize that I was supposed to say "good afternoon" to you.
Miss Cleo: Well in my country, if someone says "good afternoon," you should respond with "good afternoon."
me: Well, in my country, if someone keeps repeating "good afternoon" after I have said hello, I think it's because you can't hear me so I am going to keep repeating "hello." [Admittedly, I was probably getting a little snappy with Miss Cleo. But I really don't like people telling me how I should respond.]
Miss Cleo: Well you don't have to be like that.
me: Well I do. I'm just telling you that since we're in my country, this is how things work. I shouldn't be expected to know what you want me to say.
Miss Cleo: [Almost chuckling] Well, you're certainly a Leo, aren't you?
me: Well, yes, but that's besides the point....

Conversation soon comes to an end. She made me so upset that I was in tears about this. Reason? She made me feel like I couldn't even tell anyone about this (not even C, but too late because he was sitting on the couch listening to the entire conversation) because I would come across as the insensitive, hot-headed, bratty, snotty girl who can't even return a "good afternoon" when given one.

As a confession, I am extremely sensitive about this. I know that I'm not the same person I was when I was an undergrad in Utah. I know that living on the East Coast has made me really impatient of check writers at the grocery store, among other things. I have enough self-awareness to realize the changes that have taken place in me after moving to D.C, and possibly due to being 10 years older. Regardless of these recently-adopted quality traits, I still thought I was in the right. But I feared that when I told people this story, they would tell me to my face that that I did the right thing. Behind my back, however, they'd opine that I flew off the handle and should have just given her a "good afternoon."

And, how dare she then resort to astrology to explain this? Astrology?! What business is it of hers what sign I am? And how is that even relevant to our conversation!? ARGH. I vowed never to speak to her again. C is now on permanent phone answering duty.

Of course these two incidents were not enough to drive me to inactivity. They came from two members of the ward with whom I have very little contact. However, I do wonder if this would have been different if Miss Cleo were the RS president? Would I stay away from RS until she was released? I honestly don't know. But given the hurt I felt from Miss Cleo, I now have a small understanding of how people can be offended enough to stop coming to church.

What, Exactly, is That Supposed to Mean?

On a recent metro ride, I was reading an article in the Ensign about a woman in Japan, who, with many of her eight sons, was converted to the Gospel. I am always amazed to hear conversion stories of people who come from non-Christian backgrounds, and so I quite enjoyed reading her story. But there was one line in this article to which I took offense (don't worry; I'll not leave the Church over it). Speaking about the eight sons, the author wrote, "Among those converted, one is now serving as a stake president, some are high councilors, and some are bishops." And the author's point is....? The fact that the author said "among those" implies, to me, that there are other sons whose callings were not mentioned. Why? Why not just say that all the converted sons are serving faithfully in their wards?

Aren't we always told that all callings are equal? If that's true, then why do we have to mention only these callings? Why not say, "One is now serving as a stake president, two are high councilors, two are bishops, and one is the assistant scout leader." Or, "...the ward librarian." Or, "...the teacher's quorum advisor." If all converted sons were serving as primary teachers, would their callings even be mentioned?

So does this hierarchy of callings exist in the Church? If you learn that someone you know was called as Elders' Quorum President, would you be more impressed than if that same person was called as a ward missionary? To what extent do you believe righteousness has to do with someone given a particular calling?