Temple Worker Again

I used to be a Dallas Temple Excursion worker once a month for about 2 years when I was a Primary President and Mike was home out of a job...babysitting.

Now I am retired and finally healthy enough to work at the Houston Temple full time. My shift is the mid-day shift on Thursdays from 12 to 6 p.m.

When I was interviewed, Brother Childs did not know of my husband or that he was out of work, but somehow he knew about my health, so that was all he asked about prior to my calling.

When I was set apart as a temple worker these are the things I remember.
1. My husband and I would know that path that we should go.
2. My health would improve...and my memory and mental capacity would expand.
3. There would be many times the veil would be very thin, and especially when I read the scriptures, my mind would be enlightened to understand things I have never understood.
4. I would know the direction my life should take, what to do with my time.
5. Whenever I go to and leave the temple, angels will attend me.

If I remember more, I'll add it.

The 'Aha' Moment

I can distinctly remember when I 'really' became a teacher. It was when I was teaching the lesson I was supposed to teach and in explaining something, I found out they didn't know something else. I put aside what was supposed to be taught and took a good 10 minutes to explain what they didn't know. I soon found out that if I answered their questions they WANTED to know WHILE I was teaching what they were SUPPOSED to know, that more and more questions came and they became more engaged in their learning.

Similarly, I distinctly remember when I truly understood 'ministering'. At first, I was a bit taken aback because I really had been 'ministering' to those sisters already...I thought. It felt almost like a step backwards for me to not have to visit them monthly, but I soon looked for and prayed to know their needs. Well, in doing so, I was given my answers by observing other sisters in similar situations. Then it hit me. Why am I LIMITING my ministering to only those I've been assigned, when I can see the same need in other sisters? Eventually, my 'ministering' woke up other sisters to do what I was doing and a true unity began in our ward. We were reaching out to everyone the spirit let us know needed our help.

Similarly, when I was at Weight Watchers, I saw a young mother I had known from my former ward when she was a Young Women. She had a child that was NOT happy having to sit and be quiet at Weight Watchers. So. I saw a need...and I went to the store and filled a huge purse with toys. Toys that would rival any grandmother's purse. Toys that were ages 9 mos. to 3 years. The next week I brought it and her daughter was silent as she kept busy with my toys.

Long story, short, I bring it to my ward now. It was like a pre-nursery in Sunday School and Relief Society today. Four babies all wanting my toys. When I got home, one mother called to know where she could buy some particular toys I had. Uh...the one she wanted most was homemade, so I told her she could have the extra one I made.

I guess both examples are my epiphany-moments that we need to perform outside of the curriculum to meet the needs of students...just as the spirit will prompt us to minister to others, not necessarily confined to our assignments. Once we get past the set boundaries and truly meet needs, then we are as Christ would have us be.

How to Keep Someone (AKA: me) from Monopolizing the Comments in a Church Class

Often, a teacher asks a question and no one raises their hand, so when someone finally raises their hand, they call on that person. That student may not mean to monopolize the class comments, but because they process information faster than others and want to help out the teacher, they always raise their hand and usually the teacher always calls on them.

I am the person who processes information fast. I am the person who wants to help the teacher. I am the person who usually knows an exact answer if the question calls for a single correct answer. I know that I monopolize most classes, but few others raise their hands. I have had a teacher say to the whole class, "Karen, I'm not going to call on you because you talk too much."

Wow. Talk about hurt feelings!

I have had other teachers look right at me and after looking all around the room, rather than call on me, they give the answer themselves because they don't want me to answer again.

Today, I saw a professional teacher, do the correct thing to elicit participation and not hurt my feelings by avoiding calling on me. I thought I'd pass it on to you since you all will be teaching a class some day.

#1 Ask the right kind of question...one where there is no one answer and/or no right or wrong answer. (i.e. What are your thoughts about...? What is an experience you have had about...?)

#2 Give 'wait time'. When you ask the right kind of question tell them you are going to have them wait a minute to think about an answer, then wait a minute. (Initially, my mind races and my hand is up. It is a great answer, so great, no one else gives an answer when they have heard mine. When the teacher waits a minute, other people raise their hands and she/he calls on them first instead of me. I may or may not be able to give my answer, but at least 10 other people got to talk before I did.)

New Year: Re-prioritize

Relief Society was a discussion on priorities and keeping the spirit in our lives and homes. This is such an overdone topic because we talk about it every New Years. I did get one new insight. One lady talked about her time being taken with her children and that took the place of the time she used to spend with her husband. She said that they had to make sure they had husband and wife prayer and husband and wife scripture reading before they went to bed. Mike and I always do that...even when one of us had to stay up later for some reason, we still did that together first. It is something Mike and I have always done, but I want you to know that it kept us renewing the spirit and giving us opportunities to talk before we went to bed. If you have not made that a habit in your home, please do. It is important to you, your marriage, and your family.

Day 2: Remember: Georgie's squat-walk to sneak up on my POC (portable oxygen concentrator). Hopefully I can reproduce it to video and post.

Day 3: Birthday lunch with Maddy at her school. Blessing for Kevin. Poor Linda. Max is gone.

Day 4: Maddy was baptized today. So special. My front seat strap above the car door that I grab when I am fearing the driving, pulled right off the door. I guess I pull on it too much.

Day 5: Sunday. Maddy sang every word of every hymn in church. She read her scriptures during the sacrament. She listened and did nothing else during sacrament meeting. She also fasted. So proud of her. At dinner, Josh was wolfing down the lettuce and said, "I LOVE to eat salad!"

Day 6: Lunch with Kevin and coat shopping. Dinner at the Asian Bistro with Cheryl's family. The kids all  love sushi. I'm impressed with them eating foods from different cultures.

Day 7: Flat tire. Josh to me: "I will always love you.". Eating at Brick Oven with my brother and mom.

Day 8: Home again. Mike got lost in the airport trying to find his Green Restaurant.

Day 1 of our Jan. trip...AKA A Comical Adventure

4 a.m. All is going well. I'm packed. One pair of black dress pants and every top will coordinate with it. Since I basically only have sandals to go with pants, that is not going to cut it in freezing weather. But...wahlaah. I found some old black leather lace up tennis shoes, and miracle of miracles. THEY FIT! We are just about to head out to the car and I notice my toe sticking out of the shoe. No black shoes??? I hurriedly trashed them, grabbed a pair of white socks and put on white tennis shoes. I'd have to find black shoes in Utah.

What a relief that there was no ice or snow on the road even though the temperature was in the 20's. We arrived with plenty of time to wait at our gate. The boarding time came and went. We were told that there was a broken plane at our gate so we needed to change gates. We did. Our plane was to depart at 7:45 a.m. and at 8 a.m. our plane had not even taxied to the new gate. Finally, they said we could board and we were all standing in line only to wait. Wait, because the next plane for that gate had been entered in the computer and to do that, the computer person pressed the button to say we had departed. That meant that they couldn't scan our boarding passes. Finally, they let some on without scanning, then they scanned the rest when it was fixed, but they were having to count on the plane because we had boarded 2 different ways. We finally left about 8: 45 a.m.

The flight was fine. I was so tired I just put a blanket over me and tried to sleep. Tap. Tap. Tap. The man behind me was telling me my blanket was in the aisle. Ten minutes later. Tap. Tap. Tap. The man behind me is handing me my pillow that had fallen on the floor. Fifteen minutes later, Tap. Tap. Tap. THE SAME MAN managed to pick up my pillow again! I forget what else I dropped, but he tapped me 4 times.

Linda picked us up and let us borrow her car for the remaining time we were to be in Utah. Thanks.

Well, you know I had to get me some black, close-toed shoes, so Mike and I went to Walmart. Yes. Walmart. Six dollar shoes and they fit. I was riding around on one of those motorized shopping carts and Mike went ahead of me, so I was trying to catch up and swung a little too wide in one row and took out a bunch of plastic tubs, so I overcompensated and swung to the left, knocking over a display that cascaded across another aisle like falling dominoes. Mike came running to my rescue while I mumbled about why we needed to stay together and he mumbled something about women drivers.

After checkout, I zoomed (well--rolled) up to the entrance and Mike said he'd go get the car. I waited. and waited, and waited. I stood up, but couldn't leave my cart because I couldn't carry the case of water.  He never came. I sat back down and thought he had forgot where the car was parked. As time went on,...and on... I had visions of him trucking on home, forgetting that he had left me waiting at the store. Finally....he pulled up. I didn't know what to do because I couldn't carry the water, so I drove out the automatic sliding doors and the cart stopped half in and half out. I kept trying to restart the motor, but it was dead. I tried to physically push and pull the cart one way or the other. No luck. The cold air was coming in and I couldn't move. Mike had to get out of the car, get the water, and physically pick up the 'dead' cart to move it out of the door.

Note: Mike knew exactly where the car had been parked in relation to the Walmart entrance. He went to that place and there was no car. He was alarmed. He knew he had parked there. He went up and down rows trying to beep the remote to find the car. After about 4 rows, it occurred to him that we had gone in the other entrance, so his calculations of the location of the car were in relation to the wrong door. :(

On a sad note: President Monson passed away last night. What an example of compassion, service, and kindness. He also did many things to give missionaries and the youth earlier responsibility.

Realization

When I was 21 and came home for vacation from the Y one Sunday, I was ushered into the Bishop’s office. We talked a bit, then he dismissed me. I thought it was odd, so I asked him why he had talked to me. He then told me he had intended to extend a call to be a missionary, but the Spirit had made it known to him that my mission was to teach children and he felt that I needed to finish getting my college degree.

I went home and said, “Whew. I sure escaped that!”

As my parents asked what I had escaped and I reiterated the interview experience, I told them that I wouldn’t be a good missionary because I was afraid of meeting people who I did not know. I will never forget what my father said. A father, who rarely complimented anyone of us, said, “No, Karen. You would have been a great missionary. You put 110% into every calling you have ever had, and it would have been the same with this calling. Your love for the Lord would overpower the fears you have.

Well, I have been thinking a lot about the possibility of going on a mission in the next few years. I always thought I would go,… as if it wasn’t a choice. It was what obedient senior couples do…right? Soooo… I was going to do it. But I have not changed myself since I was a 21 yr. old. I am so fearful of meeting with people that in order to go visiting teaching, I literally cry, shake, and pray to have courage to phone them or meet them. I am afraid of rejection. I am afraid that even if they let me in, they don’t want me there.

The sister missionaries have had me come with them to a nonmember since I have retired and I was very uncomfortable. Mike has had me go to his home teaching families of less-active members…and I am VERY uncomfortable.  We have some very good sister missionaries, who always follow through with us to see how we are doing with those less-active, nonmember people we have committed to fellowship, and I literally find myself hiding from them, because I am so afraid.

I have been praying and praying to say that I would do whatever calling the Lord gives me since my retirement …and with the stake reorganization and ward reorganization finished, in addition to the sister missionaries stepping up to ask me to go with them, I am petrified. What if it is Ward Missionary?

That feeling is so strong, that I am seriously reflecting on my ability to go on a mission after Mike’s retirement. If I am so afraid now, how can I honestly apply to be a missionary? I seriously have so much more respect for my children going on missions. It had to be the scariest thing they have ever done. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love that they did that… considering many of them have my fears, anxiety, and genetic weaknesses. I am so proud of all of them for taking that step and magnifying whatever they do for the Lord, regardless of their fears. I am so proud of them even now, how they buoy each other up and help each other with their callings.

That being said, I have memories of my Church callings as Relief Society President, Stake and ward Primary Presidents, etc. when I was not afraid. I know I did a good job and I felt I was a good leader, but I have since had many opportunities to be a leader in the educational setting and not been as successful. Perhaps it was because the teachers tend to be pretty aggressive or unconstrained, or that I didn’t have a position of authority over the people with which I was working. Perhaps it is that people in the Church understand the principle of counseling, then falling in line with decisions, but I found that I would not stand up for myself whenever people did not want to do something I was supposed to plan with them; I would back down. I couldn’t set a date and get them to come; they would find something else to do. I guess I just didn’t command their respect, etc. I constantly backed down, and and even worse, let myself be bullied.

However, I remember the changes that happened to me when I was called as a 24 yr. old Relief Society President. Prior to the calling, I had those same agoraphobic tendencies, but after and during the call, I changed. I know that in the setting apart blessing I was given the gift of charity and that gift trumped every fear I had. I truly loved all those sisters…active and/or inactive. There was no fear as I served.

It occurred to me last night that my leadership ability came from the Lord. I don’t own it. I wasn't born with it. It occurred to me that Heavenly Father qualifies those who he calls. As I watched the Sunday school video of those men leaving their families to preach the Gospel for years in a foreign land, I was overpowered with the dedication and faith they had for the Lord as they, too, were afraid. I hope and pray that whatever calling the Lord gives me, that since He knows me, He will not give me more than I can bear at that time, and that He will make me into the person I need to be to truly succeed in the calling that will come.