The other day I pulled up a little video stored on my phone. It was my friend Margaret standing in her sewing room, her apron tied at her waist, scissors and measuring tape hanging over her shoulders. I can almost smell the steam, starch and machine oil as I watch it. The video is less than 30 seconds long. She tells a joke:
“Definition of a camel:
a horse made my committee.”
Her lips curl up, and I can hear the giggles of my friends listening from their machines and the cutting table.
That little joke remained in my head this week, brought to the forefront when we were gathered in the cultural hall of our small church after the funeral of a dear friend. The crowd of loved ones was larger than expected. Chatting with some friends, I looked up and noticed one of our Relief Society sisters rolling an additional large round table out into the crowded room to make more seating space. I scurried over to suggest we not do that as the space was already too full of tables and the place where they would put it blocked the drink table and the serving line of the food tables. It was habit, I suppose, that made my feet move and my mouth boss people around. One of my oldest and dearest friends, frustrated by what must have been a forceful suggestion, turned around, returned the table and left the church.
Later that afternoon I called her to apologize.
“I think I overstepped my bounds today, and I am so sorry. I am no longer Relief Society president, and who am I to say how things should be done?”
She replied that she has struggled for years with how we tend to do things in our ward. People bring food in perfectly good bowls and we resituate them in the bowls we want. We want things “just so” and in the process make more work for everyone. She owned her own feelings, much to her credit, and I listened with an open mind.
She’s right, we all seem to have our own ideas how things should be done. And when we get together, if there’s not a clear understanding of what we are hoping to achieve, feelings are bound to get hurt. Frankly, I’m amazed we women are able to do this kind of thing repeatedly. This was the first funeral in our ward since I was released as RS president. During my tenure we had done 20 funerals followed by family luncheons. I suppose I took too much ownership in how things should be done.Our new president was out of town and I was going on muscle memory.
I’ve really been pondering the idea of committees. Frankly, if we are participants in the human race we are part of committees on all sorts of levels. Our classrooms are committees, our families, neighborhoods and congregations. We who are part of a democratic society participate in massive communities. Most projects, from the PTA carnival to city fireworks to the serving of the Sacrament require people to work together. The beautiful thing is that we are allowed to think independently and then share those thoughts collectively. You do it this way, and I do it that, and we end up with humps on a camel.
We try, sometimes unsuccessfully, to smooth out the bumps. Still, the thing gets us where we need to go, even if the ride isn't always smooth. It may not be perfect, but after all, the Wise Men got where they needed to go on camels.
Jesus, on the other hand, will return on a horse.
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| Revelation 19:11 |
