My name is Kara McCurdy. My husband’s name is
Jared. I grew up in Rupert and he grew up in Heyburn. We met while attending
Minico High School. My best friend introduced me to him because he was her
boyfriend. My friend and I were sophomores and he was a senior, and to me, that
was just gross. The age difference between seniors and sophomores was huge to
me, and I didn’t want to have any part of it. I didn’t pay any attention to him
until he left on his mission and my friend asked me to start writing him. She
had been writing him, but being Catholic, she got tired of reading letters about
the truthfulness of our church and urging her to read the Book of Mormon, so she
decided to Dear John him, and asked me to write in her place. Over the next two
years, we emailed each other every so often, with the frequency increasing the
closer it got to the end of his mission. When he had been home from his mission
for 3 days, he made a bet with his uncle, who was 29 and single, that if his
uncle could find a date for that same day, then he would find a date. Little
did he know that his uncle already had a date set up, and he panicked to try to
find a someone at such short notice. Guess who he called?
2 months later we were engaged, and 4 months to
the day after his return home we were sealed together in the Jordan River, Utah
temple. We lived in Pocatello for 10 years going to school and we had our first
3 children: our son Uriah is 7, our daughter Jordyn is 6, and our little Bonnie
is 4. When Jared graduated and got a job at the Jerome hospital as a
Respiratory Therapist, we moved to Twin Falls where our 4th child,
KyLee, joined our family in September.
Our move to Wendell was a little less than
perfection. The night before we moved, Jordyn was up all night with a stomach
bug which caused her to sleep with a bucket in her arms. The next morning the
bucket was no longer needed, but she was tired and feverish, so we did the best
we could to keep her out of the way and make her comfortable. We really didn’t
have time to give it a second thought. Meanwhile,
we were unloading our moving van with some family and friends when my father in
law asked if we had called anyone from the ward to help us unload. It being
Valentines weekend, we decided not to contact anyone because we knew most
people wouldn’t be available. We told him not to worry about it. The moving
truck was over half way empty and we would soon be done. However, not long
after, I realized my father in law was on the phone with the Bishop, who then
tried to call several people to come help. He was unsuccessful, but he and his
wife came over anyway, and of course, by the time they got there we had
everything unloaded. They graciously helped us put some beds together and a few
other things, and we were very grateful for their help.
The
next day we were preparing to travel to Twin Falls to attend our ward one last
time. We were all getting in the car when I realized I had forgotten something
in the house. The house had been locked, and neither one of us had the keys.
Since we had just moved in the day before, we didn’t have time to duplicate the
keys and neither one of us had really decided to take ownership of them yet. We
checked all the windows and they were locked tight. We knew we would have to
get back into the house eventually, so Jared swiftly kicked our back door in,
on the house we had just bought and lived in for less than a day. I’m sure it’s
a story we will be telling for a long time.
That night, I started to feel miserable and by
Monday morning I could barely move from our couch. I managed to get myself to
the doctor, who informed me I had strep throat. I wanted to tell him that I
couldn’t possibly have strep; I hadn’t had it for 7 years and I had a whole
house to unpack, but instead I just accepted my fate and the prescription he
wrote for me. My body felt like it was getting worse throughout the day, and I
called Jared while he was at work and I said, “I know we don’t really know
anybody in Wendell, but you’ve got to find someone to come give me a blessing.”
He said he would try, and he attempted to get in touch with a coworker, but was
unsuccessful. It wasn’t long after that Jared said he saw Bishop Nebeker
visiting a patient at the hospital, and so he asked him to come give me a
blessing. I really don’t think that was coincidence.
When Jared got home from work that night, he
came walking into the house like he had just gotten off a horse. I said, “What
happened to you?” and he informed me that he had gotten sick all over himself
while driving home from work, but that the bishop would be over soon to give me
a blessing. Needless to say when Bishop got there, he turned right around and
went down the street to get Brother Thorne, and Jared and I both ended up
getting blessings that night. I am so grateful that the church, and the
priesthood, are the same no matter where you are. That same week our other
children got that stomach bug, and, with the exception of Bishop and his wife,
so did every person who came and helped us move. What a welcome to Wendell!
I have spent several years, even from my adolescence,
working on not letting things get to me. In high school, kids made fun of me
and said mean things about me, but I had friends who loved me and made me
happy, so I ignored those who tried to bring me down. It wasn’t as easy as all
that. While I could ignore crudeness from my peers, it was a lot harder for me
to ignore disappointment from those I held in high esteem, like teachers or my parents,
or those in positions of authority. If I got a bad grade, or got in trouble,
both very rare events, it made me an absolute wreck. It would eat at me from
the inside for a long time. I couldn’t live with the idea that I had
disappointed someone. Thus, I always tried to be the best that I could be. Since
I was always trying to be the best, it made it really easy for me to be hurt
when I found out that someone was less than happy with me. I had to teach
myself over time that I couldn’t let disappointment get to me. It didn’t matter
how hard I tried, I couldn’t make everyone I ever met happy. And so I learned
to let go.
Until
this one time, at church…
Before we moved to Twin, the bishop of our ward
was a very kind and gentle man. About 3 years after we moved into that ward, he
was released and a newer, much younger bishop was called. This new bishop was
very quiet and he seemed timid. He was embarrassed easily and you could tell
that he really struggled with the part of his calling that required him to shake
hands and say hello to people. Still, he got through his first year as bishop
well and I thought that he was really a nice guy and I liked him more and more
each Sunday.
Then
one Sunday, I wasn’t feeling well and missed church. I was sick and up all
Saturday night and when I finally got to sleep, I slept hard and woke up just
minutes before church was starting. At the time, I was the chorister for sacrament
meeting. I not only felt physically awful, but I also felt emotionally awful
because I didn’t have any time to call anyone to replace me that day. But the
day went on and by next Sunday I was back at the front of the chapel leading
the congregation in song. Two weeks after that Sunday I had missed church, I
was sitting up at the front of the chapel flipping through the hymn book when
our quiet and timid bishop came up and sat down next to me. I smiled at him: “Hey
bishop, how’s it going?” My smile quickly faded as he sternly said, “Two weeks
ago you weren’t at church, and you didn’t call someone to replace you. Someone
has to be up here leading the music every Sunday. You CANNOT do that. Don’t let
it happen again.”
I was completely shocked. I didn’t know what to
say. I think I managed to stutter the words “sick”, “didn’t feel good”, and “sorry”
before he got up and walked to the pulpit to begin the meeting. I was doing
everything I could to hold back tears. I had to stand up and lead the opening
song with a fake, forceful smile that I could barely manage, and I had to sit
in front of everyone for the rest of sacrament meeting and hold my composure. As
soon as the meeting was over I jetted out of the chapel as fast as I could. I
don’t remember if I went to the rest of the meetings or not.
I stewed over his words the rest of the day.
How could he say that to me? Am I not allowed to get sick? Besides, it had been
two weeks since I missed church, during which we had seen each other at two
separate ward activities and he didn’t feel the need to say anything to me
then, but instead waited until I was sitting in front of the whole congregation.
I was angry. I was offended. I used to scoff at people who said they stopped
going to church because they got offended. Their testimony must not be very
strong, I thought. Who stops going to church because someone offended them?
Well, I almost did.
In a 1991 Ensign, Perry M Christensen
wrote an article called “Five keys to keep from having your feelings hurt”, and
it begins like this:
You have saved your money for
many years and have made many sacrifices in order to purchase an expensive
luxury car. Finally, the day arrives when you have enough money to buy it. As
you are driving your new car home, you are interrupted by a thump-thump-thump.
You pull over to the side of the road and discover that you have a flat tire.
“I can’t believe this car!” you exclaim as you slam the door. “I spent all that
money on it—and for what?” Without a moment’s hesitation, you pull a can of
gasoline from the trunk, douse the car, and ignite it. The luxury car with the
flat tire is obliterated in a ball of fire. Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? Who
would destroy a fine car because of one minor problem? Yet how many of us have
allowed a relationship we have nurtured for years to go “up in flames” because
of one careless remark? Or how many of us have forgone church activity because
someone has offended us?
Chances are that within our
own ward and stake we will be offended by someone sooner or later. Elder Marion
D. Hanks has said that the way we handle these situations may have serious
ramifications: “What is our response when we are offended, misunderstood,
unfairly or unkindly treated, or sinned against, made an offender for a word,
falsely accused, passed over, hurt by those we love, our offerings rejected? Do
we resent, become bitter, hold a grudge? Or do we resolve the problem if we
can, forgive, and rid ourselves of the burden?
“The nature of our response to such situations may well
determine the nature and quality of our lives, here and eternally.” (Ensign, Jan. 1974, p. 20.)
The following five keys can help keep us from becoming
offended—or if we have already been offended, quicken the healing process:
1. Build a Firm Foundation
We are more easily offended when we feel insecure about
ourselves. Do you remember a time when you wore an article of clothing that was
out-of-style or that didn’t fit well? You probably felt self-conscious about
how you looked. And you may have worried that the slightest giggle was from
someone laughing at your attire—or that other people’s conversations were
directed at you and at your appearance. It was easy to become offended, wasn’t
it? Why? Because you were insecure about yourself.
To avoid taking offense, we need a firm foundation. We must
be firm in our commitment and testimony of the gospel, in our sense of
self-worth, in the knowledge of who we are, and in our sense of our divine
potential.
After the incident with my bishop, I wanted to stop going
to church, at least with our ward. I would have been happy to attend in another
building, but didn’t want to take the chance of crossing paths with our bishop
again. Even as I thought about that, it sounded silly in my head. In the days
that followed leading up to the next Sunday, I kept asking myself one thing: is
the church less true because the bishop offended me? Of course, I knew it wasn’t,
but every time I felt angry about the situation, I repeated that question in my
mind: is the church less true because the bishop offended me? This simple
question got me through the next several weeks. It was because of my firm
foundation in the gospel that I didn’t stop attending church, something I
thought I would NEVER do simply because I was offended.
2. Understand the Intent
Although we sometimes don’t like to admit it, the intent of
someone’s criticism may be to help us. We
should be gracious enough to receive the criticism, understanding that the
person may be trying to help.
Moroni, the Nephite military commander, was a man of God,
“a man of a perfect understanding,” and “a man who was firm in the faith of
Christ.” (Alma 48:11–13.)
Yet, as are all of us, he was vulnerable to error. As he led the Nephite armies
against the warring Lamanites, he sent a letter to Pahoran—the chief judge and
governor over the land of Zarahemla—requesting reinforcements and food for
Helaman’s army. (See Alma 59:3.)
But Pahoran did not respond.
Moroni then sent another letter to Pahoran, this time
criticizing him harshly for his “thoughtless stupor” in not supporting the
armies: “It is because of your iniquity that we have suffered so much loss,” he
wrote. (Alma 60:7, 28.)
After a long letter criticizing Pahoran, Moroni concluded by threatening to
come to Zarahemla to get the needed provisions himself, “even if it must be by
the sword.” (Alma 60:35.)
Unknown to Moroni, Pahoran had not sent the reinforcements
and provisions because he was having to fight his own battles at home: An
insurrection had arisen against the government, and king-men—in league with the
Lamanites—had taken control of Zarahemla. How did Pahoran react to Moroni’s
harsh judgment? How would we feel if we had been unjustly criticized by a Church
leader?
Pahoran’s response is a lesson in restraint and
understanding: “In your epistle you have censured me,” he wrote, “but it
mattereth not; I am not angry, but do rejoice in the greatness
of your heart.” Pahoran understood the intent of Moroni’s criticism;
Moroni sought only for the glory of God and for the freedom and welfare of the
people. Despite the accusations, Pahoran was not offended; he understood and
rejoiced in Moroni’s righteous intentions.
When you feel you have been improperly judged, falsely
accused, or offended in some way, pause to reflect upon the person’s
intentions. Frequently, you’ll discover that the intent behind the criticism was constructive and
was offered in an effort to help.
3. Be Swift to Hear, Slow to Wrath
Why should we be “swift to hear” advice, complaints, or
criticism? Perhaps because we honestly need to change something about
ourselves; perhaps we truly need to heed the advice or the criticism.
In addition to being “swift to hear,” we should also be
“slow to wrath.” It is easy to react quickly to offenses and to respond in like
manner. Arguments can easily escalate from one caustic remark to another, with
each person reacting to the other’s remark. When we let our emotions dictate a
hasty response, we relinquish control of ourselves and of the situation.
Was I “swift to hear” my bishop? Was I humble enough to be “slow
to wrath”?
I’m not really sure if I was either of those things, but I
can tell you one thing: for the remainder of the time we were in that ward, I
never missed leading the music again. I made sure I was there for every
sacrament meeting, even if I was tired or not feeling well. For other callings
I had, I made sure to contact someone to let them know I wasn’t going to be
there, even if it was at very short notice. My intentions in doing so were to
prove to the bishop that I wasn’t a slacker, that what happened that Sunday was
a one-time accident, and that I certainly did not deserve his retribution. What
ended up happening, however, is that I became a better member of the ward,
someone who could be counted upon to do what was asked, and to show up when I
was needed, even more than I had before.
4. Don’t Seek Revenge
Elder H. Burke Peterson related the experience of a group
of teenagers who were picnicking in the desert outside Phoenix, Arizona. One of
the girls was bitten by a rattlesnake. Instead of immediately seeking medical
attention, the group pursued the snake and sought revenge by killing it with
rocks. Unfortunately, during the precious minutes that the group wasted in
exacting revenge, the poison had time to move from the surface of the girl’s
skin into the tissues of her foot and leg; her leg later had to be amputated
below the knee.
“It was a senseless sacrifice, this price of revenge. … The
poison of revenge, or of unforgiving thoughts or attitudes, unless removed,
will destroy the soul in which it is harbored,” said Bishop Peterson.
When we are offended, feelings of hate, dreams of
vengeance, or misguided feelings of righteous indignation poison our minds and
spirits. In the end, we are the ones most hurt. On the other hand, “forgiveness of others
for wrongs—imaginary or real—often does more for the forgiver than for the
forgiven. That person who has not forgiven a wrong or an injury has not yet
tasted one of the sublime enjoyments of life.”
Perhaps the fact that I was trying to prove the bishop
wrong was my way of revenge, because as long as I was doing that, I had the
poisonous thoughts of anger coursing through my mind, and it felt like the
offense was fresh again. It wasn’t until the bishop and his wife came to our
home for a visit several months later that I decided it was time to forgive
him. As he entered the apartment we were living in, I could feel those feelings
of offense stirring inside me, but as we sat and talked, I could sense those
feelings slipping away as I realized that, even though he had been called to be
our bishop, he was still human and could make human mistakes. I know I had
unintentionally offended others, so why couldn’t he? I finally let go of that
one Sunday that had been eating me up inside for months, and I felt so much
better for it.
5. Seek Reconciliation
It seems so easy for young children to reconcile. My son,
Uriah was playing in the dirt with his sister, Jordyn. Suddenly, sand was
thrown, feelings were hurt, and Jordyn started crying. I started toward the
sandbox to initiate a parent’s patching up, but before I had taken two steps, Uriah
reached out and hugged Jordyn. Tears stopped as quickly as they began, hurt
feelings were mended, and siblings were reconciled. Then they both continued
playing as before.
D&C 42:88.)
“And if thy brother or sister offend thee, thou shalt take him or her between
him or her and thee alone; and if he or she confess thou shalt be reconciled.” We
need to take the initiative by seeking reconciliation with the person who
offended us. The best way to do so is to quietly take the person aside and
openly discuss the situation.
The Lord knew his disciples would face storms of criticism
and severe persecution. (See John 16:2.)
During his last hours prior to his crucifixion, he strengthened his disciples’
testimonies and provided them with an eternal perspective of who he was and who
they were. Indeed, some of the Savior’s most profound teachings are contained
in the chapters of John just before those that recount His betrayal. (See John 13–17.)
Jesus wanted to fortify the disciples’ testimonies and build a firm foundation
that would withstand all offenses. “These things have I spoken unto you, that
ye should not be offended,” he said. (John 16:1.)
Do we, like the Lord’s disciples, need to work harder at
not being offended? Testimonies and personal relationships are worth more than
an expensive luxury car. How ridiculous to let them go up in flames when a flat
tire momentarily disrupts our journey.
I had worked so hard for so many years to build up a thick
skin and to let what others said and thought about me roll off of me, “like
water off a duck’s back”, but all it took was one incident with someone at
church whose standards I held above all others to nearly wash away the
foundation I had built for myself. If it wasn’t for my testimony and firm
beliefs in the gospel, it is possible I could have let that one incident destroy
my spirit. I pray that we can all be quick to hear, slow to wrath, and eager to
forgive.
No comments:
Post a Comment