TAKING ONE FOR THE LORD
I don’t know why I took the family station wagon that night. I usually drove the much more fuel-efficient “Perdiddle” on out-of-town trips. Maybe it was because I was tired of its “skate-board-with-a-motor” feel.
I was on a high council assignment to visit the youth program of the Kingfisher Branch, about 2 hours away. I entered town from the east, passing the city limit sign. Just beyond the first intersection I was shaken to the core by an ear-splitting THWACK! The rear-view mirror revealed that the back driver’s side window had been suddenly transformed into a wall-to-wall spider web, emanating from a surprisingly symmetrical chip almost in the middle.
I somehow made it to the rented IOOF hall where the branch met near the western city limits. The evening went well – I felt welcome and appreciated. After the meeting the branch president walked out to the car with me.
“Holy Guacamole! What happened to YOU?”
I told him.
“That’s a bullet, my friend.” He was a rancher and quite familiar with guns. I am not. The tightness in my stomach returned full force. “Holy Toledo. You need to go by the police station before you leave town. I’m serious – this is nothing to just let go. Here, I’ll draw you a map.”
The police chief himself was on duty that night. The branch president must have called, because I was met outside as I pulled up.
“Holy [bleep]!” He exclaimed when he saw the window. “Where were you exactly when that happened?”
“Just coming into town on [Highway] 33.”
“From the east or west?”
“From I-35.”
“East. What time?”
“Let’s see. Oh yes, I did glance at the clock on the dash. 6:34.”
“The 911 call came at 6:37, from a neighbor, according to the police report.”
“Police report?!”
“Come here, let me show you something.”
We walked down some outside stairs and into the basement where the jail cells were located.
“See that piece of [bleep] in the far corner over there?”
All I saw at first was a pile of dirty rags. As my eyes adjusted a human form, obviously sleeping one off, gradually emerged amongst what turned out to be torn clothing.
“This [bleep’s] wife was between him and the front window, which faced the highway. He emptied his revolver at her. She was hit four times. She’s dead. He missed twice. There are two bullet holes in the window.
The knot in my stomach tightened into nausea.
“You’re one lucky s.o.b., you know that? Half second earlier, coulda been the front window and your head. C’mon, let’s go add your story to the report.”
I didn’t have any trouble with drowsiness on the way home that night, let me tell you.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
STEWARD OF GOD
STEWARD OF GOD
For a bishop must be blameless, as the steward of God . . . Titus1:7
“Brother Boyce, how are you and Chris doing?”
There I was in the stake president’s office, surrounded by his counselors.
“Uh, fine? Why? Is there something I’m not aware of?”
“No, no. We were just asking. It’s nice to know there are a few couples out there who don’t struggle.”
“We have our moments occasionally, but we make up quickly.”
“Glad to hear it. How are your finances? Are you carrying any debt?”
“Home mortgage, car payment. That’s about it.”
“Credit card?”
“$400 at the moment. But we’ll pay it off next paycheck. We pay the whole balance each month.”
“I wish more people would do that. How are things at work? Are there any challenges in that regard?”
“I’m spread pretty thin at times, but I’m learning to pace myself, to strike a balance. It seems to be working, at least most of the time.”
“We want to thank you for your service as Bishop Gray’s counselor. He’s grateful for all you do, as we all are. How is that going for you?”
“I enjoy it. It’s inspiring to see Bill rise to the occasion, truly becoming Bishop Gray, representative of the Lord.”
“Well, Bob, thank you for your time this evening. It’s good working with you.”
“Uh, that’s it?”
“Counselors, do you have anything to add? No? That’s it, then. You’re free to go.”
Chris was anxiously awaiting my arrival home. “How did it go? What happened?”
“Not a thing. They asked me about my job, our finances, our marriage, and my calling. Then they sent me on my way.”
“That’s it?”
“Yup – that was all.”
“Weird!”
“So, what’s new? Enjoying your bishopric experience?”
I was traveling on assignment with my friend and colleague, who happened to be the president of a neighboring stake.
“Good. But you know, I had the craziest interview with the stake president and both his counselors. It was about a month ago. They called me in, asked me about our marriage, my job, my finances, and my calling. That was all. We said a prayer, and they sent me home. Spooky.
“Oh, I know what was going on,” responded my colleague, mystery in his voice.
Try as I might, I could not get another word out of him. “I’ve said too much already,” was the only other thing I was able to pry from his sealed lips.
A special bishopric meeting was called as soon as I returned. The stake president met us in our clerk’s office. We had heard rumors: a clerk had received a letter from Salt Lake City that identified us as Stillwater 2nd Ward, rather than just Stillwater. That had produced a buzz.
Sure enough, a new ward had been approved. The president showed us the boundaries. Bishop Gray “just couldn’t part” with his Relief Society president; the wife of a member of the stake presidency had made a formal request to remain in the established ward. The boundaries were therefore rather ridiculously gerrymandered to leave those two families in the established ward. The president assured us that he had that prerogative.
With that taken care of I was invited to go through the chapel to the stake wing.
“Well, Bishop Boyce, I’m sure you’ve got it figured out by now, on account of that seemingly pointless interview of a few weeks ago.”
I hadn’t. Clueless I think they call it.
“You’re the new bishop of the Stillwater 2nd Ward, which will be created this Sunday. Can you have your counselor recommendations to me no later than tomorrow afternoon? Oh, that’s right. Your wife is supposed to be present for the call. Could you phone her and get her over here, and we’ll start all over again?”
I was not sure I could, I was so light-headed. I managed somehow.
“Do I have to put on a dress?” That was her initial response.
For a bishop must be blameless, as the steward of God . . . Titus1:7
“Brother Boyce, how are you and Chris doing?”
There I was in the stake president’s office, surrounded by his counselors.
“Uh, fine? Why? Is there something I’m not aware of?”
“No, no. We were just asking. It’s nice to know there are a few couples out there who don’t struggle.”
“We have our moments occasionally, but we make up quickly.”
“Glad to hear it. How are your finances? Are you carrying any debt?”
“Home mortgage, car payment. That’s about it.”
“Credit card?”
“$400 at the moment. But we’ll pay it off next paycheck. We pay the whole balance each month.”
“I wish more people would do that. How are things at work? Are there any challenges in that regard?”
“I’m spread pretty thin at times, but I’m learning to pace myself, to strike a balance. It seems to be working, at least most of the time.”
“We want to thank you for your service as Bishop Gray’s counselor. He’s grateful for all you do, as we all are. How is that going for you?”
“I enjoy it. It’s inspiring to see Bill rise to the occasion, truly becoming Bishop Gray, representative of the Lord.”
“Well, Bob, thank you for your time this evening. It’s good working with you.”
“Uh, that’s it?”
“Counselors, do you have anything to add? No? That’s it, then. You’re free to go.”
Chris was anxiously awaiting my arrival home. “How did it go? What happened?”
“Not a thing. They asked me about my job, our finances, our marriage, and my calling. Then they sent me on my way.”
“That’s it?”
“Yup – that was all.”
“Weird!”
“So, what’s new? Enjoying your bishopric experience?”
I was traveling on assignment with my friend and colleague, who happened to be the president of a neighboring stake.
“Good. But you know, I had the craziest interview with the stake president and both his counselors. It was about a month ago. They called me in, asked me about our marriage, my job, my finances, and my calling. That was all. We said a prayer, and they sent me home. Spooky.
“Oh, I know what was going on,” responded my colleague, mystery in his voice.
Try as I might, I could not get another word out of him. “I’ve said too much already,” was the only other thing I was able to pry from his sealed lips.
A special bishopric meeting was called as soon as I returned. The stake president met us in our clerk’s office. We had heard rumors: a clerk had received a letter from Salt Lake City that identified us as Stillwater 2nd Ward, rather than just Stillwater. That had produced a buzz.
Sure enough, a new ward had been approved. The president showed us the boundaries. Bishop Gray “just couldn’t part” with his Relief Society president; the wife of a member of the stake presidency had made a formal request to remain in the established ward. The boundaries were therefore rather ridiculously gerrymandered to leave those two families in the established ward. The president assured us that he had that prerogative.
With that taken care of I was invited to go through the chapel to the stake wing.
“Well, Bishop Boyce, I’m sure you’ve got it figured out by now, on account of that seemingly pointless interview of a few weeks ago.”
I hadn’t. Clueless I think they call it.
“You’re the new bishop of the Stillwater 2nd Ward, which will be created this Sunday. Can you have your counselor recommendations to me no later than tomorrow afternoon? Oh, that’s right. Your wife is supposed to be present for the call. Could you phone her and get her over here, and we’ll start all over again?”
I was not sure I could, I was so light-headed. I managed somehow.
“Do I have to put on a dress?” That was her initial response.
Monday, June 13, 2011
SOME OTHER WAY
SOME OTHER WAY
… doth he receive [confirmation]by the Spirit of truth
Or by some other way?
If it be some other way it is not of God.
Doctrine and Covenants 50:19-20
My room-mate and I were walking into the setting sun, toward the Wilkinson Center.
“A little bit warmer than northern California,” I ventured.
“A lot warmer. Hey, look at that. Our day is about to get even hotter.”
She was just a silhouette at first, surrounded by a halo of light, emerging from the depths of the sunset. As we drew closer she gradually took on an alluring human form, the fulfillment of a recently returned missionary’s dreams.
My room-mate knew her. They chatted. I fidgeted.
“Who’s your friend?” she finally asked.
“Oh, sorry – Bob, this is Janelle; Janelle, Bob.”
“Oh, sweet mystery of life at last I found you …” Thank you, Heavenly Father, I prayed silently, for allowing me to meet my future wife just now.
My room-mate had her phone number.
I wore a hole in the carpet pacing back and forth by the phone, planning exactly what to say, anticipating how she would respond, and scripting my exact replies to all the possible scenarios I could conjure up.
“Hello, Janelle? This is Bob, you know, the guy who was with Dennis the other day outside the Wilkinson Center?”
“Oh, hi. Didn’t you say you just got back from a mission? Remind me again where you served.”
“Peru.”
“That’s right. Did you know a guy named Jack Golightly down there? Went to high school with him.”
“Elder Golightly … Golightly. No, the name doesn’t ring a bell. Where did you go to high school?”
“Springville, right here in the valley, how about you?”
“California. Pacific Grove, to be exact.”
“Hm-m. I’m afraid that’s a new one on me. Is that by L.A.?”
“North coast.”
“Anywhere close to Oakland? That’s where my boyfriend’s from.”
Silence …
“Bob, you still there?”
“Uh … oh, yeah! 100 miles south.”
“I probably haven’t been there then. I’ve been to Palo Alto, though, and to Berkeley. How about you?”
“Did a Model United Nations at Berkeley, and marched with our band at a Stanford football game. Nice places.”
It went on like that for a few more minutes. I just wanted it to be over.
> < >
“Why didn’t you tell me she had a boyfriend?!” I was quite “enthusiastic” as I asked my room-mate that question.
“Oh Nathan? It’s not working out. She’s trying to find the courage to dump him. She talks to me all the time. Thought maybe you’d be the one to give her the incentive to follow through.”
“No wonder she was so nice when I called her. But why did she have to go and mention him?”
“You called her? And you didn’t ask her out?”
“She said she had a boyfriend!”
“She was just testing your resolve. Call her back.”
“Janelle? This is Bob, Dennis’ friend, again. Say, ‘Ben Hur’ is playing at the Wilkinson Center this week-end. Wanna go this Friday?”
“Oh Bob, I’d love to, but I have plans this weekend. Thanks for thinking of me, though. Call again sometime, ok?”
“She’s interested! She told me to call back!”
“Darn right she’s interested. Keep calling.”
I did. She had plans then too.
On the fourth try, she was free for a Sunday night fireside. We went, then discussed what we had learned. I was in heaven.
But she “had plans” the next week-end. And the next.
Heavenly Father, thank you for bringing Janelle into my life. It’s just the Law of Opposition at work, isn’t it, that makes it so hard. Please bless me with the fortitude to not give in to the opposition.
Christmas Break was just around the corner. Our returned missionaries’ club was having its annual Holiday festivities, dinner and formal dance. I asked Janelle, but I had a “Plan B” all worked out, just in case. To my surprise and delight, she accepted! On the last number of the evening, it was “slow dancing, swaying to the music …”
Thank you, Lord, finally!
> < >
I couldn’t wait for Christmas Break to be over. I called her as soon as I got back in town.
“Sorry, Bob, but Nathan and I are back together. It happened over the break. You’re a good friend. I’ll always remember you.”
Lord, what is going on?! It’s not going to work out long-term between Janelle and Nathan, is it. Just bless me with patience and I’ll be fine.
“You’ll never guess. You’ll like it though.” Dennis was bouncing a little, he was so excited.
“Oh, no! I’m not falling for that again. You’ve gotten me once too often. You’re gonna say something like, “I saw the first robin of Spring today,” and then you’re gonna start laughing.”
“No, no, for real this time. Nathan dropped out of school and has gone home to Oakland. It’s over between them.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What! Dennis, I swear, if you’re trying to pull one on me …”
“I’d do that about robins, but not Janelles – call her!”
I sent up a prayer of gratitude, patted myself on the back for my unusual patience and perseverance in the face of opposition, and dialed.
“Hey, Janelle, it’s been awhile …”
She met me for lunch at the Cougareat. Subdued, no trace of bubbly. We stuck to the weather, safe things like that. No “slow dancing,” but hey, that would return, right?
I didn’t dare ask her out more than once a week, at least yet. After all, she was dealing with a broken heart, right? She needed time. She always said yes when I did ask her, even though she was zombie-like at times.
And then, over ice cream after a movie, “You know, Bob, I must have dated 201 different guys by now, and broken 200 hearts. They always fall for me. And then, when I finally really fall for someone, I get my heart broken. Why does it have to be that way?!”
She’s confiding in me. She’s trusting me. She must like me – more than just as a friend. It must be time. It’s time, right? But, I’ll go to the temple just to make sure.
I didn’t have any money, but what I did have was my dad’s credit card. He’d understand this one time of exceeding my budget. I drove by myself to Manti, thinking about nothing else but eternity with a girl named not Maria, but Janelle. If the deceased was dependent on me to understand the ceremony, he was out of luck; my thoughts were anywhere but on the proceedings. In the celestial room I was sure I received confirmation.
I went to a pay phone and called her collect. Her dad answered.
“Who?”
“I’m the friend of Janelle’s with the red coupe.”
“Oh, that one. Yes, operator, I’ll accept the charges. But make it quick, young man. We’re not exactly made of money around here, you know.”
“Hey Janelle, Bob. I’m in Manti. I’ll be there between 10 and 10:30.”
“Tonight? You’re coming to my house tonight?”
“Sure am. I’ll explain when I get there. Can’t talk too long – Daddy’s orders.”
She met me at the door. Daddy was in his easy chair. He meant to stay right there until I left. I don’t remember how we convinced him to retire for the night. He did, though, with the admonition, “Make it quick, honey, it’s a long day tomorrow.” It was meant more for me than for her.
I told her of my feelings, and of my celestial room confirmation. I suggested that we seriously consider getting married. I had imagined that she would melt in my arms with love and gratitude.
“Bob, you’ve been a good friend. I’ll always be grateful for that. But I got done with finals today, and I’m leaving early tomorrow morning for Oakland. I’ll be there at least for the summer. Nathan and I are planning on doing just that – getting married. If things don’t work out, I’ll see you in the fall, but I’m afraid it would not be wise to hold your breath. I don’t know what to say about your confirmation. I just don’t feel that way right now.”
It was easy to comply with her dad’s admonition to make it quick.
… doth he receive [confirmation]by the Spirit of truth
Or by some other way?
If it be some other way it is not of God.
Doctrine and Covenants 50:19-20
My room-mate and I were walking into the setting sun, toward the Wilkinson Center.
“A little bit warmer than northern California,” I ventured.
“A lot warmer. Hey, look at that. Our day is about to get even hotter.”
She was just a silhouette at first, surrounded by a halo of light, emerging from the depths of the sunset. As we drew closer she gradually took on an alluring human form, the fulfillment of a recently returned missionary’s dreams.
My room-mate knew her. They chatted. I fidgeted.
“Who’s your friend?” she finally asked.
“Oh, sorry – Bob, this is Janelle; Janelle, Bob.”
“Oh, sweet mystery of life at last I found you …” Thank you, Heavenly Father, I prayed silently, for allowing me to meet my future wife just now.
My room-mate had her phone number.
I wore a hole in the carpet pacing back and forth by the phone, planning exactly what to say, anticipating how she would respond, and scripting my exact replies to all the possible scenarios I could conjure up.
“Hello, Janelle? This is Bob, you know, the guy who was with Dennis the other day outside the Wilkinson Center?”
“Oh, hi. Didn’t you say you just got back from a mission? Remind me again where you served.”
“Peru.”
“That’s right. Did you know a guy named Jack Golightly down there? Went to high school with him.”
“Elder Golightly … Golightly. No, the name doesn’t ring a bell. Where did you go to high school?”
“Springville, right here in the valley, how about you?”
“California. Pacific Grove, to be exact.”
“Hm-m. I’m afraid that’s a new one on me. Is that by L.A.?”
“North coast.”
“Anywhere close to Oakland? That’s where my boyfriend’s from.”
Silence …
“Bob, you still there?”
“Uh … oh, yeah! 100 miles south.”
“I probably haven’t been there then. I’ve been to Palo Alto, though, and to Berkeley. How about you?”
“Did a Model United Nations at Berkeley, and marched with our band at a Stanford football game. Nice places.”
It went on like that for a few more minutes. I just wanted it to be over.
> < >
“Why didn’t you tell me she had a boyfriend?!” I was quite “enthusiastic” as I asked my room-mate that question.
“Oh Nathan? It’s not working out. She’s trying to find the courage to dump him. She talks to me all the time. Thought maybe you’d be the one to give her the incentive to follow through.”
“No wonder she was so nice when I called her. But why did she have to go and mention him?”
“You called her? And you didn’t ask her out?”
“She said she had a boyfriend!”
“She was just testing your resolve. Call her back.”
“Janelle? This is Bob, Dennis’ friend, again. Say, ‘Ben Hur’ is playing at the Wilkinson Center this week-end. Wanna go this Friday?”
“Oh Bob, I’d love to, but I have plans this weekend. Thanks for thinking of me, though. Call again sometime, ok?”
“She’s interested! She told me to call back!”
“Darn right she’s interested. Keep calling.”
I did. She had plans then too.
On the fourth try, she was free for a Sunday night fireside. We went, then discussed what we had learned. I was in heaven.
But she “had plans” the next week-end. And the next.
Heavenly Father, thank you for bringing Janelle into my life. It’s just the Law of Opposition at work, isn’t it, that makes it so hard. Please bless me with the fortitude to not give in to the opposition.
Christmas Break was just around the corner. Our returned missionaries’ club was having its annual Holiday festivities, dinner and formal dance. I asked Janelle, but I had a “Plan B” all worked out, just in case. To my surprise and delight, she accepted! On the last number of the evening, it was “slow dancing, swaying to the music …”
Thank you, Lord, finally!
> < >
I couldn’t wait for Christmas Break to be over. I called her as soon as I got back in town.
“Sorry, Bob, but Nathan and I are back together. It happened over the break. You’re a good friend. I’ll always remember you.”
Lord, what is going on?! It’s not going to work out long-term between Janelle and Nathan, is it. Just bless me with patience and I’ll be fine.
“You’ll never guess. You’ll like it though.” Dennis was bouncing a little, he was so excited.
“Oh, no! I’m not falling for that again. You’ve gotten me once too often. You’re gonna say something like, “I saw the first robin of Spring today,” and then you’re gonna start laughing.”
“No, no, for real this time. Nathan dropped out of school and has gone home to Oakland. It’s over between them.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What! Dennis, I swear, if you’re trying to pull one on me …”
“I’d do that about robins, but not Janelles – call her!”
I sent up a prayer of gratitude, patted myself on the back for my unusual patience and perseverance in the face of opposition, and dialed.
“Hey, Janelle, it’s been awhile …”
She met me for lunch at the Cougareat. Subdued, no trace of bubbly. We stuck to the weather, safe things like that. No “slow dancing,” but hey, that would return, right?
I didn’t dare ask her out more than once a week, at least yet. After all, she was dealing with a broken heart, right? She needed time. She always said yes when I did ask her, even though she was zombie-like at times.
And then, over ice cream after a movie, “You know, Bob, I must have dated 201 different guys by now, and broken 200 hearts. They always fall for me. And then, when I finally really fall for someone, I get my heart broken. Why does it have to be that way?!”
She’s confiding in me. She’s trusting me. She must like me – more than just as a friend. It must be time. It’s time, right? But, I’ll go to the temple just to make sure.
I didn’t have any money, but what I did have was my dad’s credit card. He’d understand this one time of exceeding my budget. I drove by myself to Manti, thinking about nothing else but eternity with a girl named not Maria, but Janelle. If the deceased was dependent on me to understand the ceremony, he was out of luck; my thoughts were anywhere but on the proceedings. In the celestial room I was sure I received confirmation.
I went to a pay phone and called her collect. Her dad answered.
“Who?”
“I’m the friend of Janelle’s with the red coupe.”
“Oh, that one. Yes, operator, I’ll accept the charges. But make it quick, young man. We’re not exactly made of money around here, you know.”
“Hey Janelle, Bob. I’m in Manti. I’ll be there between 10 and 10:30.”
“Tonight? You’re coming to my house tonight?”
“Sure am. I’ll explain when I get there. Can’t talk too long – Daddy’s orders.”
She met me at the door. Daddy was in his easy chair. He meant to stay right there until I left. I don’t remember how we convinced him to retire for the night. He did, though, with the admonition, “Make it quick, honey, it’s a long day tomorrow.” It was meant more for me than for her.
I told her of my feelings, and of my celestial room confirmation. I suggested that we seriously consider getting married. I had imagined that she would melt in my arms with love and gratitude.
“Bob, you’ve been a good friend. I’ll always be grateful for that. But I got done with finals today, and I’m leaving early tomorrow morning for Oakland. I’ll be there at least for the summer. Nathan and I are planning on doing just that – getting married. If things don’t work out, I’ll see you in the fall, but I’m afraid it would not be wise to hold your breath. I don’t know what to say about your confirmation. I just don’t feel that way right now.”
It was easy to comply with her dad’s admonition to make it quick.
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