I went to church at my old ward today. I walked into the chapel 15 minutes early and took up our old seat (3 rows from the front, left side.) One of the girls I had in activity days was practicing a song she would sing during the meeting. As the room filled up, I chatted with this person and that, watched others come in with their kids and sit down in their customary pews. It felt like I was home.
I've been in my new ward for 3 days shy of 7 months. By now, I should feel a part of things, but I don't. In fact, most of church today was spent convincing myself not to simply go back to my old ward. Throw in the towel. Heck, it's the same stake; why can't I?
Then in Sunday school, we were talking about a scripture in Ezekiel about the waters of the temple filling up the valley of the Judean Wilderness. A man is measuring the depth of the water. When he first goes in, the water was up to his ankles. A little later it goes up to his knees, then his loins (wow, never thought I'd have the opportunity to write "loins" on my blog. Giggle. Ahem, sorry.) Then it was deep as a river.
The class started talking about the water and how it symbolized life. One class member talked about how the man kept going into the water to test it. He didn't wait for the water, or the knowledge that the water represented, to come to him, but he "went forth."
I learned so much during that lesson. I guess I have to be the one to "go forth." If you would have told me 7 years ago I would be as fond of my old ward as I was when I moved, I would have thought you were crazy. There is a special bond that comes from digging through the trenches of life for many years with the same group of people. I came to love them because I came to know them; I haven't done that yet in my new ward. They don't know me. I hide in the corner as much as I can, holding on to the person I was in my old ward instead of who I am now. They don't care who I was anymore than I care who they used to be.
So, I'm going to go forth. I'm going to try to stop looking down at the water around my ankles. I have to wade in a little further. I can't really jump all the way in, it isn't in my nature. But I can take some furtive steps and stop waiting for all the water and experiences and knowledge to come to me.
I'm going in, friends. Wish me luck.
4 comments:
I wish i could be as brave as you.. well, i guess i kinda have been brave, i used to feel apart of the ward i am in now but now i seriously dread church because i HATE my ward.. it isn't warm and inviting like others i have been to. people look at us and turn noses ugh it bugs me so bad...
So i know how you feel, it is hard to want to be somewhere when you have already felt at home somewhere else..
Love you!!
It takes me a good 5 years to adjust to a new ward. It's hard.
I'm still struggling to love my new ward. They are good people but it's just hard when others have been there their entire life. I love how you want to, though. That's huge.
I'll have you know I just typed ovaules to leave that comment. Now I've got eggs on my brain.
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