Homecoming
My good friends spoke in church today. They moved to Utah right before going on a mission to New Zealand. They are here visiting for a few days. I am so glad they were asked to speak! He was a member of the stake presidency for years and I have always appreciated his gentleness, generosity and compassion as he teaches the gospel. She spoke of her gratitude for service in a variety of callings, not all of which felt like a good fit at the outset. There was a beautiful vocal rendition of "Guide Me to Thee" sung by a young woman, accompanied by my friend, the marvelous Primary music leader.
Last Sunday said friend approached me saying that the returned missionaries wanted to be able to see the Stevens family while they are here. Ben and Tom were their home teachers for years. I suggested she invite Ben and the kids for today and have me over with another family another time. The other family ended up offering to host the latter event, so there isn't even a question of how much residual cat there still is at the music leader's house, so that's all fine.
Except today I felt myself thinking of the returned missionaries' regard for Ben. I am not trying to promote a war and ask friends and ward members to choose sides. As much as I personally avoid interacting with Ben, I don't expect anyone else to shun him. Any of my friends are welcome to be loving and kind toward him. My friends are loving and kind people. However, I have found some emotions running strong today around the thought that they might not only love Ben, but they may in fact hold him in high regard. That feels harder to swallow. Yes, I know: what other people think of me is none of my business, and what other people think of other people is even less so. Still. It's been a week of difficult email exchanges with Ben. I had thought the gaslighting was over. It isn't. But I hope everyone has a nice dinner together today. Except that I really don't. I kind of hope my teens get their backs up and refuse to go, leaving Ben feeling embarrassed because he really loves to keep up appearances. If only that could happen without disappointing the returned missionaries.
I followed the sister to the Relief Society room after she had finished reconnecting with people in the chapel after sacrament meeting. I always liked being in Relief Society with her. She is a smart, thoughtful and compassionate person who makes valuable contributions to any discussion. I haven't been to Relief Society since the start of the year. I was asked to help in Primary a few times and found it an emotionally restful place to be so I just kept going back. Also, I don't attend Sunday school because I prefer not to be in a room that small with Ben, especially if he is going to open his mouth. But today was a Relief Society day. A friend was scheduled to teach. My returned missionary friend was there. I thought I would go. I made it to the door, saw the circle of chairs instead of the rows I'd had in mind, felt a surge of vulnerability, and peeled off toward the Primary room as the door began to close behind my friend. I ended up as the second adult in a Sunbeam class. Fine by me.
I will see my returned missionary friend at our book lunch this week before she heads back home to Utah. I hope to have a better handle on my thoughts and feelings by then.
Tom was not at church again today. The Young Men president approached me and told me they miss him. Yeah, I miss him, too. I just don't think that's a valuable thing to say to a person who isn't coming. It's about the speaker's emotions, not the missing person's experience. "Please come back so I don't have to feel bad about the fact that you aren't here." I know people mean well, and this is as much a cultural habit as anything. It doesn't really mean that they aren't genuinely concerned. It just doesn't effectively convey genuine concern. What is he supposed to do with that thought, "We miss you?" I do appreciate the Young Men president approaching me for guidance, I just don't have anything to offer him. If I did, I would have already told him. I tend to be proactive like that.
I passed Amelia in the hallway and gave her a brief pat on the arm, saying something like, "Hey, there!" as I walked past on my way to the restroom. If I don't stop, the lack of response feels less glaring for everyone concerned.
I just remembered that I was assigned to plan a 5th Sunday meeting and I haven't looked at the source materials yet. I guess that's next up today.
Last Sunday said friend approached me saying that the returned missionaries wanted to be able to see the Stevens family while they are here. Ben and Tom were their home teachers for years. I suggested she invite Ben and the kids for today and have me over with another family another time. The other family ended up offering to host the latter event, so there isn't even a question of how much residual cat there still is at the music leader's house, so that's all fine.
Except today I felt myself thinking of the returned missionaries' regard for Ben. I am not trying to promote a war and ask friends and ward members to choose sides. As much as I personally avoid interacting with Ben, I don't expect anyone else to shun him. Any of my friends are welcome to be loving and kind toward him. My friends are loving and kind people. However, I have found some emotions running strong today around the thought that they might not only love Ben, but they may in fact hold him in high regard. That feels harder to swallow. Yes, I know: what other people think of me is none of my business, and what other people think of other people is even less so. Still. It's been a week of difficult email exchanges with Ben. I had thought the gaslighting was over. It isn't. But I hope everyone has a nice dinner together today. Except that I really don't. I kind of hope my teens get their backs up and refuse to go, leaving Ben feeling embarrassed because he really loves to keep up appearances. If only that could happen without disappointing the returned missionaries.
I followed the sister to the Relief Society room after she had finished reconnecting with people in the chapel after sacrament meeting. I always liked being in Relief Society with her. She is a smart, thoughtful and compassionate person who makes valuable contributions to any discussion. I haven't been to Relief Society since the start of the year. I was asked to help in Primary a few times and found it an emotionally restful place to be so I just kept going back. Also, I don't attend Sunday school because I prefer not to be in a room that small with Ben, especially if he is going to open his mouth. But today was a Relief Society day. A friend was scheduled to teach. My returned missionary friend was there. I thought I would go. I made it to the door, saw the circle of chairs instead of the rows I'd had in mind, felt a surge of vulnerability, and peeled off toward the Primary room as the door began to close behind my friend. I ended up as the second adult in a Sunbeam class. Fine by me.
I will see my returned missionary friend at our book lunch this week before she heads back home to Utah. I hope to have a better handle on my thoughts and feelings by then.
Tom was not at church again today. The Young Men president approached me and told me they miss him. Yeah, I miss him, too. I just don't think that's a valuable thing to say to a person who isn't coming. It's about the speaker's emotions, not the missing person's experience. "Please come back so I don't have to feel bad about the fact that you aren't here." I know people mean well, and this is as much a cultural habit as anything. It doesn't really mean that they aren't genuinely concerned. It just doesn't effectively convey genuine concern. What is he supposed to do with that thought, "We miss you?" I do appreciate the Young Men president approaching me for guidance, I just don't have anything to offer him. If I did, I would have already told him. I tend to be proactive like that.
I passed Amelia in the hallway and gave her a brief pat on the arm, saying something like, "Hey, there!" as I walked past on my way to the restroom. If I don't stop, the lack of response feels less glaring for everyone concerned.
I just remembered that I was assigned to plan a 5th Sunday meeting and I haven't looked at the source materials yet. I guess that's next up today.
Comments
Post a Comment