Okay, so I'm working my way through the fiasco from last month.
There's a part of me that just wishes that I were a lot cooler. That I had more self-confidence. That I wasn't ready to drop everything at a moment's notice to soothe feelings.
Because, really, instead of saying that "I wasn't my best self" by asking if a visit were convenient ... and, really, it's not a huge gaffe. Especially in our church. The friend KNOWS this. (That's why a big part of me really wonders if it's the wife, who might not know about Visiting/Home Teaching and all that. Benefit of the doubt, right?)
Instead of being so quick to apologize, I REALLY kind of wish that I had sent that meme of Ron Burgundy, you know, the one that reads "Well, that escalated quickly."
Then I could have stated, for the record, that I wasn't inviting myself. Since they're not at church and we don't see each other socially, there's no chance for them to invite anyone from church over. And this is a visit from the Stake President. We just want to make sure they're okay, see if there's anything we can help with. We're a freaking Ward FAMILY. Why won't you let us love yoooooooooou???
And that would have been WAY better, overall, than being stuck in a glass cage of emotion.
(Yes, that was ANOTHER Anchorman reference.)
But, oh well, shoulda coulda woulda.
So, I've been extended a calling ... and I haven't made a definitive decision yet.
It's a calling I've had before. One that was not ... very pleasant.
When the bishopric member extended the calling, I burst into tears.
And then went to the car for the rest of church ... so I missed my favorite Old Testament story lesson in Gospel Doctrine (Balaam's talking ass, if you're curious. Yes, mostly because I get to SAY that. I'm a rebel, okay?) ... and Relief Society.
And I pretty much start crying every time I think of accepting this calling again.
If we had anywhere to put any more kids in this house, I'd march down to the county clinic and have my IUD removed ... this way, I'd have a very good excuse. "Nope! Can't do it! Too stressful! It'd hurt the baby! Oh, look at my wrist! Time to go!"
But, since I don't have any really good reason NOT to accept it (besides uncontrollable crying), if I don't accept it ... well, would that be demonstrating a lack of faith? Would it be unsupportive to our leadership?
They didn't mention releasing me from my current calling. And, from the call I got from our new RS President, I don't think that she's aware of my being released from it in the near future ...
Of course, there's a big part of me that's all, "Instead of ME doing that, how's about y'all release Michael from his HUGE calling that he's been in FOREVER (or so it seems), put him in this role and I can totally be HIS ASSISTANT. I could handle that. Cool?"
I suppose that I could try and bargain like that ... You want me for this calling that was rather the stuff of my nightmares? Find a new EQ President. Or find someone else to call and I can be the assistant. I'm a good assistant/secretary.
Or pay for my medical insurance, since I might just have a stroke over this, m'kay?
I mean, they really should be very grateful that I didn't immediately answer a resounding NO.
I can always just try ... and if it's just as horrible, they'll understand when I ask to be released. Because, this time, I'm not going to flail about in a calling for months.
Still, even just thinking of being in this calling ... I don't know that I can physically handle it.
If I get up there and sob uncontrollably, I think that would be quite detrimental to the goals of this calling.
I just ... I don't know.
And all this crying about it is giving me a headache.
Seriously, if I didn't have a family to take care of and laundry to wash, I am ready to just go become a hermit for a while.
Ugh. If I didn't feel like I might be letting people down by refusing this calling, I'd do so in a flash.
(Yes, I've refused a calling before. I wasn't attending the ward where my records were. And I knew I couldn't perform my duties. ... So I was told to transfer my records. Which I did. GLADLY. Another time, when Bruise and Bucket were wee nurslings (maybe six months old?), I was called as a Sunday School teacher. I told them that I didn't think I could do it, since the twins would both need to eat ... and I couldn't leave a class of 9-year-olds for up to 20 minutes at a time. So they called Michael AND me as teachers. I would take Bruise or Bucket out for changings/feedings as needed. It was great. Even though I REALLY missed being in RS and getting some adult interaction with the ladies. I usually feel really cut off when I don't get to attend RS. As much as I LOVED being YW Secretary, I did miss being in RS on Sundays. ... A few years ago, I was extended a call to be Stake YW Camp Director. BUT I also had previously committed to being Matron of Honor in a friend's wedding ... and I didn't know if I even could MAKE it to camp. I was honest and upfront about it. I was then called as an Assistant to the Camp Director. Which was much better ... and it so happened that I was able to make it to the wedding AND to camp. Phew.)
So ... yeah. I've been told that, if I accept, I could have an assistant called.
But, well, I'd rather BE the assistant. I prefer to shoulder only so much responsibility.
Or to run away screaming ... if we're being completely honest about this.
Yeah, running away (if I RAN, which I don't ... so, um, waddling/hobbling away) is very, very tempting.