Setting Boundaries in a New Ward

Now that we're in a new ward, I've been practicing and rehearsing all the weird boundary conversations I get to have with the folks around me.

"It's not that I'm unwilling to serve in a calling. It's that if you're asking for anything that takes more than an hour on a Sunday to do, the answer is No. I don't have the time or energy for that."

"For the sake of clarity from the outset. I don't have kids. Yes, it's because I can't have them. Yes, it does mean I don't particularly enjoy being around your children. Do not ask me for free babysitting or callings in Primary."

"Do not ask my husband about my infertility (or anything else about me) behind my back. He will tell me. It will upset me. Talk to ME about me, please. Thank you."

"I am perfectly willing to say 'No' to you if you ask me for something I don't want to do. This is not an invitation to convince me. It means my decision has been made."

"If you ask me what I think about something, you're going to get an honest answer from me. That's the way God made me. Deal with it."

"If you want a good relationship with me, don't assume that because I've served a mission and been a temple worker that I am an endless reservoir of time and talent for you to pull from. That is not my life anymore."

Visible

I gave my talk today. Despite the fact that my printer wouldn't print my talk--it took me until 3:30 in the morning to figure that out--and I was tired as all get out, it went well enough.

The thing about being up at the podium is you can see everyone... for a short time, all of their attention is on you, and they're depending on you to say something that will inspire them, and present the gospel to them from a fresh perspective. I love being able to do that.

But while you can see everyone... they can see you. And my secret hypocrisy was woven throughout my voice... the way I hesitated, and stumbled over words, and couldn't find the words I wanted... I work enough in public speaking that I don't have that problem anymore, unless I'm trying to hide something. I could hear the rotten lie in my voice, and couldn't tolerate it. So I did what any conscientious Mormon laurel giving a talk on charity would do.

I told the truth. I told them all that I haven't been taking my own advice, and I committed to stepping up to my own plate.

And as much as I don't want to, I know I have no choice. I can't be afraid of this skeleton anymore. I have to reach out to my father...

I have to be Christ-like.