On September 10, 2017, I received a calling that made my soul sink instantly. My smile vanished. I usually love meeting with members of the bishopric. It fills me with hope and joy. And this was not one of those times. When I had heard that I was getting released from my previous calling--one that was stressful but that I loved--I was hoping and daring to dream that it would not be anything to do with Visiting Teaching. And here I was, on the 10th of September, being asked to be a Visiting Teaching Coordinator. And I said yes.
Why did I say yes? Why? Because I was taught that my leaders were given inspiration and that any calling can come from God and even if not totally from God, can still help us to come closer to Him and help others come closer to Him. That, my friends, is why I said yes. I said yes because I knew that it could be good.
I went home and cried. And on that very day--September 10--I began to pray about my calling. I prayed long. I prayed hard. I prayed with real intent. I prayed to know why God wanted me in that calling and how I could use my personality to help the girls in my ward. And I listened. I wrote things down. I honestly tried to understand. When October came around, I was able to apply my plea to General Conference talks. I scoured the contents for answers to my prayers.
As the weeks went by, I shared my concerns about the calling and visiting teaching, in general. For the first few weeks, I was told that my different point of view was good. I was told that it was good to know why girls struggled to do visiting teaching. I was also told that because I had a hard time seeing how my personality fit into this calling, I didn't know who I was. I was told that I was listening to Satan. I was told that I needed to pray; I needed to talk to God more and figure out who I am.
And then, as I continued to cry and pray over my calling, my burden lifted. I believed I could do it. I did my calling. I had a few months in which I was okay with my calling. I knew that I was putting in effort and that that was okay with God. And I was no longer being rebuked.
I had also found comfort in the words from President Dieter F Uchtdorf from his talk in October:
That's when January hit. January brought a new "vigor" to visiting teaching. Relief Society lessons began to be about visiting teaching. The lessons began to be about how we weren't doing visiting teaching. And my attitude turned sour again. My concerns came back, and I voiced them. (If I have learned something from this experience, it might be that if I have concerns, I really shouldn't say so.) I began to be rebuked again. Every Sunday, I would go home and cry and pray. I prayed long. I prayed hard. I prayed with real intent.
I began telling myself that sometimes magnifying one's calling means saying, "I'll try again this week." Which didn't really help because then people started quoting Yoda to me: "Do or do not; there is no try." With Yoda's words on mind, I began telling myself that my efforts were doing nothing. The thought that I had given in Relief Society about aiding people through visiting teaching was doing nothing. The survey I had created to track visiting teaching was doing nothing. My desire to truly help others and make sure they were doing alright was doing nothing. My efforts were a waste.
However, I continued. I returned to the words of President Uchtdorf and made choices. I prayed about the sisters that I visit taught. I asked God about what their needs were. I asked about how I could help my supervisors. I asked people how I could help them.
I think this is the part where we should remember that I am a sinner. I started comparing myself to my roommate. My roommate is one of the most wonderful people who anyone has ever met. She serves everyone and is outgoing and talks to people and listens to them. And everyone loves her. I saw that people thanked her all the time. People brought her cards of thanks. People would talk about her in Relief Society as a good example. People commented about how she had two demanding callings and that she went above and beyond on both. And I thought about myself. I was selfish. And that's what people were saying to me. I would voice my concerns about my calling, and I was told I was selfish and prideful and that I had a bad attitude and a bad perspective. I compared my chastisements with my roommate's praises. I began to see that I was nothing. And this continued for about a month.
During that month, I happened to ask my bishop if I could be released. He said no. And I asked him why. And he gave me reasons that I don't necessarily find important to share with everyone. So, I tried again. (But remember Yoda. He was still in the back of my mind.)
Eventually, I stopped comparing myself to my roommate. I renewed my efforts to find and meet the needs of the girls in Relief Society. I think this is a good time to remind you, again, that I'm sinner; I'm not very good at helping anyone. Which is a good time to remind myself of this:
I prayed again. Long. Hard. Real intent. As the weeks continued, Relief Society stayed on the topic of how we were doing awfully with visiting teaching. It came to a point that we were told the percentages and that they were a "failing grade." I commented that our ward is so good. And I truly believe that. My ward is awesome. The people in my ward serve each other so much. We know who needs help, even if we don't visit teach those people. We know where people are when they aren't at church. We know if they need more love than usual. And my comment was shut down. And we were asked why our visiting teaching was failing so bad?
Under my breath, I said, "Because the visiting teaching coordinator SUCKS!"
I left Relief Society early. I sat in the hall and cried. Never had any calling made me feel so worthless. I don't cry, and this calling has provoked my crying nearly every Sunday for 7 months. I tried. I had truly tried.
I went to the Bishop and said, "Can I please, please, please, please, please, please, please be released from my calling?" And he said yes.
I felt a burden lifted from my shoulders. I felt peace. And I know I didn't give a good explanation to my bishop for why I should be released. But he let me quit anyway. So, yes, I quit. Let it be known that Cami is a quitter. Can you depend on her?
As of right now, I don't really know why I had that calling. And part of me still believes that I didn't help anyone. I also feel really judged. I think that I am seen as a quitter and that I lack faith. In the long run, it doesn't matter because God knows my heart. And I'm sorry if you have ever felt judged by me. God knows your heart. He knows your struggles and concerns. He just wants to see you try. And I don't care if there isn't a such thing as trying because I believe in it. We can put in effort and not see the fruits of our labors. Pretty much that's my life. I don't know if I do anything good, but I try. I want to do what God wants me to do. And I need to stop caring if people think I am doing good. People are mean. But they are good at the same time.
Just a few more notes, some things that really helped me get through the last 7 months (besides the October 2017 General Conference, praying, crying, and reading my scriptures) are the following:
- The mormon message "The Will of God"
- The hymn "Come, Ye Disconsolate"
- The efy song "Glorious"
- Long, hot showers
Remember that if you don't think you are doing any good, God still cares about your choices. You make a difference, and you are dear to Him.
