Going to the chapel

[continued from previous post 'Socially Anxious']


Going to a new church was definitely not my idea of fun, but I needed to do it. Without a doubt, I don’t think I would ever make myself go if I didn’t think it was important for my children. I explained to the kids we weren’t going to be going to Grandma’s church anymore. We were going to have our own church where we didn’t know anyone. It was going to be so exciting because all of the other kids had been there for a while and they were going to be new so everyone would want to know who they were.

Porter wanted to know if they would sing the “Welcome” song they always sing to new people when they come. That really tickled him. I told them the building was going to be new to us, so we would be going on an adventure to find our way around and figure out where we were supposed to go. Oddly, they were quite thrilled by this new adventure and thought it would be cool to have our own ward.

I approached the church Sunday morning and had my three little ducks following behind me. I think I did such a good job of convincing them how much fun it was, I erased my own fears. Not completely of course.  I was talking out loud when we walked in saying, “I’m not sure where to go.” Porter piped in, “Just ask someone. Everyone is nice.” I love my kids. They are so much more stable and social and unafraid then I am. I think that most of the time they are the teacher and I am the student.

I made it through. Several people really reached out to me and made me feel really comfortable. It is a very humble ward, unlike the affluent ward we came from. Neither good or bad, just different. No manicured nails; and not one fancy department store dress;  no trendy or modern hairdos (perms are back in style—or never went out in this ward); The ward is very poor and had to cancel an activity due to lack of funds. Each ward has to live off of their own tithing and fast offerings. Strange how one ward can have so much affluence for their kids and activities while another struggles. Don’t get me wrong or misunderstand at all; the affluent ward is filled with giving people who are ready to serve and are righteous.

This ward is humble and full of heart. You can feel that. I think I am going to live. I was asked to sing in the choir. I laughed and said that’s impossible. I can’t sing. I’m tone deaf and have holes in each eardrum. The dear sister insisted she could help me sing. I don’t know, I would hate to disappoint her. Big sigh of relief! I made it. I might be able to do it again. It’s good to know that I can get better. That’s one of the best things about being human. Having self-awareness to change and improve.

Like Mary Tyler Moore, “I think I’m going to make it after all.” (As a bonus, I am the prettiest girl in Relief Society and kind of thinking about joining the choir.)