Superpowers Required

There was a big meeting scheduled this week for my calling. We were asked to “arrange our schedules” so we could attend. This phrase read in my mind, “It will be a sin to miss it.” The problem was, this meeting was at the same time as the Senior awards night. I felt the urgency of the message to fix my schedule, and wondered if God expected me to miss an important part of graduation. I mean, my ancestors left their countries and families to cross the plains and serve missions. Here it was again: the call of church and family, ringing in all parts of my mind, not in harmony, but dissonant and out of sync. This interpretation of events is no one’s fault but my own. No meeting is worth the angst I felt, but it illustrates the way I and many women face the world. We interpret invitations as commandments and feel regret when we can’t do everything. Compound this with the question, is there anything worse than a mother who doesn’t show up for her kids? Mothers are needed more than presidents, but I need to feel my choices are actually mine to make. I believe I usually choose the right option after some thought and talking it out. Of course I would choose my son, but in my mind, I was wrestling to know if it was God’s will or mine that made me think I should choose the meeting. In the end, I chose my son and was thankful that my Father in Heaven gave me counselors to cover meetings I can’t attend.

I don’t believe I need to do more things to be of worth. But independent of my worth, I want to be useful, and that means I need to do the right things. It feels like super powers are required sometimes. Sometimes I am torn in big ways, but other times I think it is funny what I am asked to do. This week included the following:

I was asked to help with an essay, but I was not allowed to read the rough draft.

I needed to visit a home full of dogs, but focus on the people, not the beloved dog biting my feet during the visit.

I was asked to demonstrate Timothy’s electric guitar since I am the only one in the house who plays the guitar. Never mind that I can’t play Metallica.

And of course, I needed to be in two places at once, or at least I felt that way until I let it go and delegated the responsibility to someone else. I think this is the freedom that I was looking for this week. My Father in Heaven has everything in place to make things work for busy moms at church.

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Angela

I write so my family will always have letters from home.