(What Sunshine, Dinosaurs, and Potatoes Have In Common.)
I have attended church regularly throughout my life. I'm actually in a point in life where I love going to church. I no longer have to wrestle unruly toddlers or soothe cranky babies, I no longer have to pick up spilled crayons from under the pew or try to locate a child's lost shoe that has inexplicably disappeared sometime in the past 45 minutes. (PSA to Mothers of Young Children: IT GETS BETTER.) Being at church helps me rejoice in Jesus, motivates me to be better, and knits my heart to my ward (congregation) family. And most days, it fills my soul bucket.
But reverence has been a bit of a problem my entire life. And sadly, I'm not really growing out of that.
For much of the past 10 years, I have served in Relief Society, which is the women's organization. First on a ward level, and then representing 12 wards on the stake level. I loved loved LOVED the women that I got to work and interact with in this calling. Amazing women! Rubbing shoulders with, and learning from them was a great blessing. However, I really should always be relegated to the sidelines and not front and center. Because things just tend to go south when I am in the spotlight.
Case in point. There was the time I was conducting a meeting, and it was the first time we had all met together as a ward. (During my four years in the ward RS presidency, we changed boundaries 3x, so 4 different configurations.) Anyway, as it was our first time meeting together, a large portion of these women had not yet been introduced to me or to my Christy Moments.
I started off with a rah-rah (but sincere) speech about how excited we were as a presidency to get to know everyone, and how grateful we were for the opportunity to love & serve & learn from them. I then announced the rest of the agenda:
"We'll have an opening prayer by (name). And then our opening hymn will be page 227,"There is Sunshine in My Hole."
Except the name of the song is "There is Sunshine in My Soul." (Not to be confused with hole.)
It might have slid by with only a handful of people noticing. But then my pal Emily, who was the 2nd counselor, incredulously called out from her seat, "Did you just say 'Sunshine in my HOLE'?" And things went downhill from there.
I told my family about the faux pas, and because we all have the sense of humor of a 3rd grader, we laughed and laughed. My nieces and nephews got in on the joke. My brother Spencer alone told 3 or 4 dozen of his closest friends.
So now I have ruined that hymn for at least 95 people. And by sharing it on my blog, I've probably hit 100. I actually feel a little bad about that. But giggles and craned heads ensue whenever any of us are in a meeting and they start singing that song. And my phone blows up with texts whenever the Tab Choir sings it.
I think I'll have everyone sing that at my funeral. It only seems appropriate.
But for the record, if we find that "There is Sunshine In My Soul" doesn't make the cut for the New Hymnbook, you can blame me.
I think during that very same RS meeting (or one right around that same time period), I had another Christy Moment. I was holding a tupperware container filled with 100 tiny little slips of paper. Sheena, our fearless president (whom I adore), had painstakingly written every single woman's name on an individual slip of paper. Each week, we would draw a name from the bowl, and that sister would take some time to tell everyone about herself the following week via the "Friendship Basket".
I was holding the container in preparation for that week's drawing, and I'm not sure exactly what happened. But suddenly, the bowl went flying, and all of those little papers went flying into the air. They then slowly drifted down, like a ticker tape confetti parade, right in church. And I found myself on my hands and knees, in front of everyone, picking up every last scrap of paper and wishing we had used a different method of choosing people. And Sheena was wishing she had used a different method of picking a 1st Counselor.
I'm sure the Stake RS President could relate with Sheena. When I was called into the Stake RS Presidency, the poor president, my pal Susan, had no idea what she was in for... at least until one of our very first meetings. I thought I should warn the presidency of a few of my limitations. As a way of introduction, I told these ladies, "So I am really good at helping set up or clean up or anything else you might need me to do. But I am TERRIBLE at planning activities or events. For instance, I wouldn't have the slightest clue of how many pans of funeral potatoes would be required to serve 100 people."
Well, that's what I meant to say.
Instead, I said, "For instance, I wouldn't have any idea of how many baked potatoes would be required to serve 100 people."
There was a pregnant pause, the other three ladies looked at me in confusion, and my pal Julie said, "Um.... wouldn't that be 100 potatoes?"
Noted.
And now you (and I) know. 100 potatoes for 100 people. Go figure.
Speaking of Julie, she's one of those people that I really cannot sit near -- (Or within eyeshot. Or within earshot. Or really within a mile. ) -- during an event requiring a serious or reverent or professional tone. (Read: No Giggling Allowed.) So that was often problematic, as most of our interactions together happened to be during church meetings.
One time we were visiting with the presidency of a ward in our stake. While driving to make some visits, somehow the topic came around to my dear friends Kaleigh and Taylor who have a pet snapping turtle. Except my mind completely went blank, and for whatever reason, it could not pull up the phrase "snapping turtle."
"They have the COOLEST pet," I said, "It's a ----shoot.... what is the name...I'm spacing it.... "
And then, trying to narrow things down, I said thoughtfully, "Hmmmm.... It's not a dinosaur...."
Noted.
Julie immediately said, "Well I would hope not!" She then said, straight-faced, "I'm so glad you clarified that though. Because "dinosaur" was at the very top of my list of Possible Pets your friends might have. So it's a good thing we got that crossed off the list, because that's one of the first pets I would've guessed"
We then laughed until we cried. For the next 1.5 hours.
Throughout the rest of our meeting, we were completely and utterly useless. We would pull it together only to snort-explode back into tears & laughter. (#sorrySusan)
It's apparently one of those "you had to be there" moments. Because even recently, years after the fact, we were trying to tell Julie's husband about it, and we both were laughing so hard we could hardly get the words out. And for some absurd reason, he was NOT crying and gasping for air and looking for the nearest restroom.
Just know if you ever need to break me, simply whisper to me, "It's NOT a dinosaur..." and I will come completely undone.
Speaking of breaks, it's probably time for one. While it would be nice if these were my only Major Church Reverence Breakdown Incidents, they are not. So stay tuned for Part 2.
