I left church today a little frustrated. Anyone who has been a bishop before understands that one of the “perks” of serving in that calling is that you tend to know what is going on with most of your ward members – for good – or ill. And after a few years, you get used to knowing. Then, after you get released, you are in an informational vacuum, which can be a great relief, but also a little disconcerting. Today it was disconcerting.
In HP group meeting, we were informed that one of the brethren’s parents had passed away, and the funeral had already been held, another brother had been in the hospital for a week, and would soon be coming home, and another had an ill wife. In each case the information was either released belatedly, very vague, or accompanied with the caveat that they didn’t want any visitors or need any help.
As we were trying to figure out what we could do as a quorum, a distinct phrase came up: “we don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.” Repeatedly.
Do you want to know what I think? Not really? I’m gonna tell you anyway: There are too many members of the church who need shorter toes. Apparently their toes are so long, and so sensitive, that the rest of the ward members have to be very careful to avoid stepping on them.
Yes we are all entitled to our privacy.
No, we don’t need to know every personal detail that is going on in each other’s lives.
No, we don’t need to be nosy or gossipy.
But… indulge me while I tell you a story.
When I was a missionary, my mom was the one that wrote to me. Faithfully. Then, with no explanation, I went three weeks without a letter from home. I figured it was just the mail service, until I got a letter that I immediately recognized as my father’s handwriting. This was probably the second time he had ever written to me. It made me nervous.
He began the letter with basic chit-chat, then casually mentioned that ‘mom was doing much better’, and that ‘she is home now’ and that ‘we almost lost her’. By this point I was losing it. He then went on to detail the medical condition that almost took her life. He concluded by telling me that he wanted to wait until things were “resolved” so as to not distract me from my service. In his pure, honest view, he was sparing me the worry.
I was furious. In my next letter home I simply said “it would have been nice to be able to pray and fast, and exercise faith in my own mother’s behalf – but I couldn’t because nobody told me what was going on!”
What’s my point?
I’ll let Alma make it for me:
When he was baptizing at the waters of Mormon, he explained that part of the obligation put upon those who covenant to be baptized is that we “are willing to bear one another’s burdens. that they may be made light. Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort…” (Mosiah 18:8-9)
So please explain to me how are we supposed to do that if everybody is so busy keeping things quiet? It seems to me that it is a two way street – to be able to fulfill this covenant we need to be willing to bear one another’s burdens, and also let other’s help bear our burdens. How am I supposed to help comfort the afflicted if I don’t hear about it until after the affliction is resolved?
How can I pray for you? Fast for you? Exercise faith for you? Serve you?
It seems that there are two conflicting messages that are part of our teachings: 1) Be self-sufficient, 2) Bear one another’s burdens. The problem is, people are often so good at #1, they don’t open the door to let #2 happen in their lives. Also, we are often great at helping other people in need, but refuse to let people aid us – and then people have to tip-toe around worrying about stepping on our toes. That’s only living half the gospel.
If you dig down deep enough, I think it all comes down to pride. Pride stands in the way of our letting our brothers and sisters see us at our worst – effectively denying them – and us – the opportunity to practice the gospel the way the Savior, and Alma taught. Those who would serve us are not blessed, and we reject the blessings of their service.
It takes two to tango… so watch your toes…
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There have been a few comments from women who had difficulties with extended and severe morning sickness, so it is good to know that I am not alone. Sometimes there is not a consensus on when help is needed, because spouses may come from different backgrounds. I had a difficult pregnancy and was hospitalized twice to get the morning sickness under control. On the day they brought me home from the hospital, I came home to four young kids I could not take care of, a house full of dirty dishes, no grocery shopping had been done, and my husband had to leave to go back to work where he’d been working a lot of overtime. Before he headed to work, the phone rang. It was my visiting teacher asking if she could come help. I heard him say “No, everything is under control. We’re fine. But thanks for the offer.” I had limited energy, so instead of hitting him up the side of the head with a dirty frying pan from the sink, I waited until he left and then I called her back. “Please come!”
After that meals came in regularly and to my embarrassment, they sent the woman with the reputation for having the cleanest house to help tidy things up. She was so gracious, told me she enjoyed doing housework. I told her she ought to have the time of her life, as I lay on the couch barfing into my bucket every three minutes.
I was ever so grateful for the help. Then after having struggled for four-and-a-half months to carry the baby, I awoke one morning to a feeling I could barely remember. I was not nauseated! Three days later I joyfully went to my doctor’s office. As I walked in, I announced to the staff “No garbage bag! I haven’t thrown up in three days!” They all clapped and cheered for me. I had run the race and gotten through the worst of it! I was going to be a human being again.
During my exam, the doctor became very quiet and just kept moving his stethoscope around my belly. He couldn’t say it. I had to be the one who said it. “You can’t hear the heartbeat, can you?” In one fell swoop, I fell from my high. An ultrasound revealed that my baby had been dead for three days. My doctor knew of all that I had been through trying to carry this baby and he shed tears right along with me.
Someone had been scheduled to bring in dinner that night, but somehow the news got around that I had lost the baby, so I assumed they decided to give us our privacy, but it felt funny that dinner didn’t come, as if they were saying, “She isn’t pregnant, so she isn’t sick anymore.”
I guess the point I am trying to make at this point, still with gratitude for the help I received when I was sick, is that once I lost the baby, and was thrown into a state of depression, I was struggling emotionally if no longer physically. We also need to learn how not only to minister to people when we can see a cast on an arm or no hair on their head. “Arms than hang down” aren’t broken. That is a sign of a broken spirit, a sad heart. I was struggling emotionally and spiritually, because of numerous blessings I’d had telling me that my baby would be born strong and healthy. I had reminded myself that never was I promised to be relieved of the morning sickness, that was something I would need to endure. And I endured it and did not get the promised blessing. Twenty years later I can say I still don’t understand that. It is simply on my list of things to ask Father about when I get to the other side.
Instead of the emotional help I so sorely needed, I got the usual.
“You agreed to this trial before you came to earth.”
“It just wasn’t meant to be.”
I could go on, but you get the idea. What I do remember is a nurse who told me I was a hero, who said she had watched me go through hell trying to carry the baby and who told me I had done everything I could to give that child a chance at life.
So don’t forget the emotional support along with the casseroles, or instead of them.
the emotional support…definitely. food I can scrounge up or my husband can scrounge up. but a friend? those are hard to come by.
I’m somehow compelled to comment on almost every post, belatedly in many cases. Indulge me; it’s for self-improvement. I would like to make 2 points: 1. ask for help. I’m just learning to do that. 2. Be the kind of friend that is so close, you won’t offend. People accept help more readily from people they consider friends.
Can you handle another comment? When we were first married and I was pregnant I had morning sickness so bad that I missed about a month of work. I would valiantly try to make to church to teach Primary, but would end up calling the counselor and asking her to take my class. My husband was a non-member at that time and I had to call the bishopric for a blessing as they were my home teachers. The whole time I was sick not one person called to see if we needed anything or came by with a meal for my poor husband. When I finally made it back to church it was Fast Sunday and I had to sit and listen to the RS counselor thank everyone for the two weeks of meals after her minor surgery. I thought “well that explains it, you have to BE somebody to get service in this ward.” I vowed that I would give service without being asked whenever I could. I haven’t always lived up to that vow, but I do the best I can. I do not have warm fuzzy feelings about that ward which missed an opportunity to fellowship my husband. The ward he was eventually baptized in remains our favorite place on earth!
I’m going anonymous with this comment because of my circumstances. This year I had emergency surgery and benefited greatly from friends, neighbors, and church members who filled in for me in callings, brought food, called, stored meals for me in their freezers, and a host of other things. I am very grateful for the service they extended to me for several months.
While I was in hospital, a couple visited me and gossiped about a family at church and their messy home. I felt awful. Partly because I knew some of the family’s difficult circumstances that led to less than optimal living quarters, partly because I live in a less than ideally sparkling-clean home due to my work schedule and a health disability, and partly because this couple should know better than to gossip. He’s a priesthood leader!
Now that I have the opportunity to move house, the couple wants to help me pack up. No way am I letting them do that! I don’t want to suspect that I’m the subject of gossip in future. Better I do the packing and moving on my own than to provide the opportunity for sin.
This is something really close to home with me right now and I appreciate reading the comments from everyone. A few weeks ago I was in a bad accident and since I am a single mom I caleld my home teacher who brought over the bishop to assist with a blessing. We live in a small town and before too long, everyone knew that I was hurt. In the last three weeks the only person to stop by and check on me was a non-member who heard about the accident second hand and wanted to check on me. Why is it so hard for a visiting teacher to simply call and see if I am dead or not? It really does make me feel invisible. The hardest thing has been knowing that I couldn’t take care of my family, or myself for that matter, and knowing that no one else really cared either. Just knowing that makes me resolve to be a better visiting teacher, and yes, I am one of those folks who just go and visit with something in hand and try to make a life better. My question is: why aren’t there more folks out there who care? Go. Visit. Love. Serve. I wish even one person would have called and asked how I am, because some days I hurt so bad, ANYTHING distracting would have been a huge blessing.
I know this comment is a little late, but I want to share. In my ward, we have had our share of troubles. One lady (age 32) had cancer and sadly lost the battle. Another lady had cancer and luckily beat it. Yet another lady is now fighting cancer. We’ve had a man with that had a shattered knee that got internal infection and it was getting scary for him for a bit. We have a lady that had back surgery, one had foot surgery. Like I said, we’ve had our share.
Our ward constantly has sign-up sheets for meals for someone or other. And usually it is filled up every time. Because of all these troubles, and because our ward has so many willing to help, I really feel like our ward has become really close. It really does feel like a family. So much to the point that we have had multiple families move to another house in the ward because they needed/wanted to move and didn’t want to leave the ward.
Not every problem is known in our ward publicly. But I love that so many people in our ward are willing to serve and be served. It truly brings about a spirit of unity.
Oh, I am all about the fancy terms.
I’m deep, man, real deep.
I think another issue with this relates to our expectations of each other after service. I love when friends and members help my family when I can’t do it. I recently had an emergency c-section and struggled a little bit with recovery and a baby in the nicu. I just went back to church about 5 weeks after and was feeling all buoyed up with the service and love I’d felt. Then a woman in the ward said she assumed I was still in the hospital or must not be well because she had expected to get a note with her dishes as they were returned. I shouldn’t have let that make me feel bad, but I realized that a few other people might have thought me ungrateful since I didn’t send a cute thank-you note or reciprocate their service… I still love them for helping, but it made me reflect on my own service and weather or not I expect anything from those I serve…
I got really sick for months with my pregnancies. Everyone in the ward knew I was sick, especially with the second pregnancy, but sadly my ward did nothing. It was heartbreaking for me to be ignored. I was in the hospital for over a week and didn’t get a call, note, or visit from anyone in the ward. I’m in a different ward now, but those experiences had an impact on me. I tend to be a private person anyway, but now I rarely let people know when problems/needs come up. I hate to ask anyone for any kind of favor. It is too painful to need help and have no one respond.
I. love. this. post. (You can tell because I put a period after each word.)
And I also appreciate all of the comments. I agree. I think we need to allow others to serve us more. I also agree that there are times when privacy is preferred. I think the former is more often true, however. And I think even when we would prefer privacy we should try to accept the offerings of others as their sincere desire to help, though I know it can be hard when we are already dealing with something that is particularly challenging.
As the one wanting to serve, our best bet is to pray and act on whatever prompting we get. We don’t always know what is needed, but the Lord does and He’ll guide us to do what we should. I figure if I’m acting on the promptings I get from the Lord, I don’t have to worry about stepping on toes. There have been many times where I’ve done something for someone not knowing why and sometimes I later learned that it was an answer to prayer and in other cases I never knew why I was prompted. I don’t think it really matters. I don’t care to know the details and usually would like the service to be annonymous, too. That isn’t the reason why I serve. I serve for two reasons: 1)I sincerely love the people in my ward/family/etc, and 2) I want to be an instrument through which the Lord can bless others.
I totally agree with you. I always have to remind myself that I would be holding back others’ blessing if I don’t allow them to serve, pray and/or help me.
I think when it comes down to it, every single one of us could use acts of service every single day. We’re all struggling in one way or another through this life, be it temporally, emotionally or spiritually. A warm meal, an offer to watch children or an afternoon of yardwork can certainly fill a very distinct temporal need but perhaps it’s those more vague acts of service that show the true compassion the Savior would have us extend. The kind word to a youth in the ward who may be particularly shy, a note of care to a neighbor we don’t often see, a warm smile or compliment to the clerk ringing up our groceries. I can’t think of too many of us who would refuse being served in such a way, regardless of how private we prefer to keep our respective trials. We don’t always have to “be in the know” to serve those around us. Hearts can be touched, minds can be enlightened and spirits can be lifted by the most random but conscious of gestures.
I don’t need details. I just need to help. Let me!
I think that you are right about pride being part of the issue…on both parts. Some people keep things quiet out of pride, some people help others and want details because of pride.
I personally don’t believe that others are less blessed because of my fasting or prayers on their behalf. To me the important thing is that whomever needs the blessing is helped and trusting in the Lord the fact it’s being done can be part of faith.
You can pray for those who need help even if you don’t know who they are. (we do it in the big white houses all the time)
The lord knows who needs help. I agree it can be a faith building experience for us to know details, but I also agree it can be a faith building experience to not know who may need our help. It’s easy to show compassion and love a friend in need. But in my experience (and probably most of us) realize that everyone is in need of something. (even the guy who cuts you off in traffic)
Obviously there will be exceptions.
Unfortunately, we are all human and make either mistakes or at the very least would handle thing differently next time.
So, to me, the answer to the question “how are we supposed to do that if everybody is so busy keeping things quiet? ” is love everyone whether or we not we know their particular circumstances.
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I was thinking about it last night and what occurred to me is that almost every Gospel principle comes in a form of a contradiction. Like this one–a contradiction between serving and respecting other people’s freedom. I think it’s our job to try to solve the contradiction prayerfully. Because it seems like solving this is different for everyone because of our individual differences pointed here. Depending on the situation, some people like to be asked, some people say “just serve me”, some prefer to serve but not to be served. Anyway, I think this particular maze could be described like this: How can you serve others well and allow other people to serve you while respecting their freedom and without enabling?
Wow. There are some really sad stories here…I feel sad for your suffering. 🙁
When I broke my back two years ago, I had no choice but to accept help, as I was in a hospital bed in the living room for weeks. It was an experience I will never forget–feeling so loved by my friends, but even more feeling the love of the Lord through these fine ladies.
This summer, though, when I had a hysterectomy, it wasn’t something I felt like broadcasting…”hey everyone, I am getting my uterus out!” I was glad for a little help, but it wasn’t quite the same thing, you know?
I have found that a note or a call to say “I am thinking about you” almost never offends. Sometimes the Lord will prompt us to do so when nothing appears wrong, and then the suffering party knows the Lord is mindful of them.
I’ve lived both sides of this discussion too. A couple of years ago I was pregnant with our sixth child and was REALLY sick (when the whole “swine” flu was going around). Whenever anyone asked if they could do anything I just politely said, “Were doing ok, but thank you.” A sister in our ward wouldn’t take no for an answer and brought us a pot of soup for dinner one night. It wasn’t until I was sitting there eating that soup that I realized how much help I really did need. I needed sooo much help. I just sat there and sobbed into my bowl of soup over her kindness and williness to “do” and reach out inspite of my protests.
We really do need to lift others burdens and have our lifted even when we don’t think we or they need it. It was an eye opener for me.
My mother passed away last week. I was at her house for 2 weeks and was the recipient of countless acts of service. The most appreciated acts were those that were just done. When someone says let me know if there is anything I can do (especially via text), it really feels like they don’t want to be bothered. I am amazed and humbled by the people who just did something without waiting around to be asked.
When I wrote this yesterday I did not expect the outpouring of comments and personal experiences – thank you! It looks like most of us have been on both sides of the issue.
I was especially touched by ‘Real’s’ story about her father, and how sometimes we think that sparing someone the worry might actually cause pain. Perhaps it isn’t for us to decide if someone is “strong enough”, but rather to be there to support them if they aren’t.
I was also impressed that Mindi used the super-fancy term “balm of Giliead”.
I totally agree… I just yesterday heard from someone else that one of my dear friends just had an operation. The someone else was very surprised I hadn’t heard about it. The whole thing left me sad that my friend hadn’t confided in me, and that I hadn’t been able to help in some way.
My mother was always reluctant to accept service – she didn’t want to be a bother to anyone, until I gently suggested that maybe she needed to consider that she was depriving others of the blessing of offering service. That fixed it.
There’s another Ginger commenting. I’m going to have to come up with a new name, (maybe an alias!) or find a picture to go with my post.
We had a wise bishop once who reminded us that it was our duty and obligation to allow others to serve us when my husband lost his job. It is SO hard to do! I’m the one who likes to give the service, not receive, but if everyone felt that way, nothing would ever work. I’m with you 100%.
Sandy
I love being served by people who love me and want to lift burdens. Sometimes, though, it feels like some people just want to rubberneck at our misfortunes. That being said, I am much more open about stuff like that than my husband. He likes to keep a tight lid on everything.
Your story reminded me of when I was little. My parents were divorced and I made surprise visit (across the country) to see my dad. I was so excited to call him and thought he would be so surprised to hear from me and get to see me. But he was very gruff on the phone and the conversation didn’t last long at all. He never did call me back and I never got to see him during that trip. It turns out that he had just had his first heart attack and was actually waiting on an ambulance when I called. He was hospitalized for the rest of my stay and that’s why he didn’t call back. Eventually the plan was to call me when everything was settled. Except he had a second heart attack and died. Everyone wanted to spare me the stress and worry. But it really amounted to me not being able to be with my dad for the last possible time in my life. I was 12.
Thank you for posting this! It’s evidently a sensitive subject. : ) I completely agree. My pride got in the way when our third daughter was born 2 months early, wasn’t expected to live due to her unexpected condition. we told no one in our new ward what was going on. When word did get out (after the danger passed but we were still in hospital for long run) people were offended that we didn’t ask for help/blessings etc. I in turn got offended because they were offended. Yikes I’m such a pyscho woman.
Well..I had learned my lesson. I should have let people care about us, and show their love in their own way. WHATEVER way that may have been. There is a time to serve and times to allow yourself to be served.
I would have been SO upset to have that happen to me! Sorry that happened to you.
One reason that I would want to keep things to my self other than I feel that we should be self sufficient is that people judge. Yes, they shouldn’t but you know some do regardless.
It all comes down to P R I D E.
Christ allowed others to serve Him, wiping His feet with their tears and hair and ointment, eating the food prepared for Him, accepting water drawn from a well.
Prophets also received service from others. Elijah received the widow’s meal and oil. The Shunammite woman provides a place in her home for the Prophet Elisha. Various members housed Joseph and Emma.
The list goes on and on. Are we better than the prophets and Christ that we have no need of service for ourselves?
Amy I feel the same way. Everyone kind of tip toes around me. It’s kind of frustrating.
AMEN!!! I wish more members understood this!
I had an experience seveal years ago. I was the 1st counselor in the RS, my husband was deployed, I had 4 young children. One Sunday a sister shared in her testimony that her father had passed away after a massive stroke. She shared the anguish the family went through and their decision to pull the plug. After the meeting I march up to the RS Pres and demanded to know why I wasn’t told. She just shrugged. “It isn’t like anyone here knew the man.” she said. I reminded her that I was her counselor and it might be nice to offer support to this family. Again she shrugged and said “I thought you had plenty to do already.”
I wish that was the only time that has happened. It isn’t. And as transient military I have been told “You aren’t from here so why would yuou care.”
I have very short toes. If you hear I’ve had a long day and want to bring me supper, bring it! If you drive by my house and notice that I’ve been too busy to mow my lawn for a couple of weeks, go ahead, mow my lawn. You can even use my mower. If you notice my dirty car in the church parking lot and want to get it detailed, no problem, I’ll give you my spare car key. I challenge anyone to try and step on my toes. In fact, I highly suggest it.
Amen!
Do you think men are more or less reluctant to let others know their business? It’s just a question. Do most men see the role of the RS as being in charge of lifting the heavy hands?
I mean, I’ve never had a man bring my family a casserole. 😀 But, I have had a man come over a give me a blessing or help my husband do a project outside his skill set.
Today two women from my ward stopped by with some gifts for my baby and it felt so nice. Yesterday I dropped off some vit C for a friend because she was sick and that felt very nice too. I so agree that service (giving and receiving)can make us happier, closer to each other and is essential to our progress. Though there were times in the past when I preferred to handle things alone or in my family. The way I remember it is that I simply didn’t even have strength to talk to people, answer questions, and you now it goes sometimes–some people are not the most tactful, etc. But what I loved and was grateful for during those hard times was that people did reach out to me and simply asked what I needed or if I needed anything. That question was very precious and I knew that they both cared and respected my freedom.
We all say we can do it on our own or we don’t need help but even though being on the receiving end of service can be uncomfortable, it can also be like the balm of Gilead. I totally agree with you!
I can see your point and I think you’re right about the pride thing. But the voice that rings loudest in my head is that we have to take care of ourselves. And so that’s what I do.