Each life that touches ours for good . . .

I found out last Monday night that my bishopric is going to be released this coming Sunday. I must admit that I was sad to hear it.

It’s taken me a little while, but I have truly come to love and respect the three men called to lead our ward flock. My bishop is hilarious, and the other two counselors are right with him. I’ve worked closely with one of them for my Temple Committee calling, and it’s been a great experience. They are truly men of God, and I appreciate their service. It took me awhile to figure out just how much I love my ward, but now that I have, I’m sad to see a major change.

Once again as I did when I moved a year and a half ago (when my last bishopric was released), I wish these men the best as they move on to something new in their lives . . . and get used to being in a family ward once again. I suppose it could be a hard transition, but I’m sure they’ll do great.

My heart was truly touched last week at home evening when the bishop broke down in tears telling us he would be released. I could feel the love he has for all of us, and that made me realize that a lot of that love is coming straight from Heavenly Father. It was a humbling thought.

As I’ve contemplated this change, it’s made me reflect on people who have touched my life in various and sometimes unexpected ways. Some things become even more meaningful with the passage of time, even if they meant at lot when they happened.

I had the opportunity to get together with friends from one of my old wards this weekend, and I spent time talking to one of them about many of the ward members whom I’ve lost contact with but still care about. Again, I thought of how these people have all had an effect on my life and how I’m sad they’re no longer a direct part of it, but I’m grateful for the time I had with them.

I’m sorry to wax philosophical and perhaps a bit sad in this entry. It’s just confirmed to me, once again, that nobody is an island, and our lives touch others in so many ways, sometimes in ways we can’t even see until much later. So to those who’ve played key roles in my life (even if you don’t know it), I thank you and hope I’ve been able to touch your life as much.

The Prodigal Child Returns!

For anyone who's confused by my last entry, my only advice is to just roll with it. That's all the explanation I'm going to give. :)

But I do have a story for you, so enjoy! Once upon a time there was a girl named Tammy. Tammy was a faithful church attender and did her best to go to all of her church meetings. Seasons passed, as they often do, and soon it was summer. As I'm sure you know, summer is a common time for vacations, little weekend trips, visiting family and holidays.This meant that sometimes Tammy was out of town on Sundays. Even though she was still faithfully attending church, it wasn't in her assigned ward.

After three weeks of not seeing Tammy, those in her ward started worrying that perhaps Tammy didn't like coming to church anymore, had gotten lost on the way or that her roommate, Speak, had managed to lock her in the cellar. They decided it was time to make contact. The first point of contact was going to be Tammy's home teacher, Sir Brad. He sent out a text message to see if everything was okay and received a grateful message saying everything was fine. Tammy was touched by the gesture and thought that would be the end of it.

Sunday rolled around, and for the first time in three weeks, she planned to attend her ward. One of the first people she saw upon entering the chapel was Sir Brad himself, who warmly welcomed her back. (Such a nice knight!) Once Sacrament meeting was over, Tammy had to deliver her tithing envelope to the bishop who mentioned that she had been missed and, again, asked if everything was all right. She assured him everything was fine.

Before Sunday School started, both other members of the bishopric (and several ward members) told Tammy she had been missed and said they were happy to see her back. Tammy honestly had no idea so many people would notice her absence but felt good to know she had been missed. And she recommitted herself to regular church attendance in her assigned ward (which was possible now that she wasn't planning to go anywhere for awhile).

As Sunday drew to a close (this entry was actually written last night but my Internet was being stupid and wouldn't let me post it--sad day!), Tammy approached her bedtime with gratitude in her heart for such a wonderful Sabbath and that her ward had been kind enough to be so concerned about her.

The End!