Brian threw his phone on the bed next to me one Sunday morning.
"Linds, I got that text this morning," he said, pointing to the phone as if it were covered in wasps.
I picked it up and read the message from the Stake President asking the both of us if we could meet with him after sacrament meeting.
"It's not ... that ... is it?" He said.
Knowing exactly what he meant, I replied, "No, it can't be that."
It was no secret that the bishop was being released. Rumors and whispers about who would replace him had been going around for the better part of a month, but it was not a rumor that the bishop was being released; that was a fact. The bishop had been shouting it for weeks, and there was an official scrapbook being made by the relief society president. With all the excitement and all the preparations, surely the stake presidency had already set the new bishop in place?
After reading the text, the next three hours before we met with the stake president were rough (thankfully it was only three hours), and we spent most of that time convincing ourselves and each other that there must be some other reason President Morris wanted to meet with Brian. And me.
But the only way to know was to know, and as we left the chapel to follow President Morris down the hall, we knew we were about to find out. I was carrying Tippy, Eliza's stuffed turtle (which is a common occurrence for me during the second hour of church), and when I heard Brian take a deep breath to calm his nerves, I turned to him and saw his eyes swimming in worry. I held up Tippy between us.
"Would you like to hold Tippy?" I whispered.
He laughed in response (if a strained smile with a slightly forceful exhale out through his nose can be counted as a laugh), and turned his head back to follow President Morris. Two steps down the hall he looked to me and whispered, "Actually, yes," and took Tippy from my arms.
It wasn't long after exchanging short pleasantries that President Morris got straight to the point.
Turns out it was that.
After President Morris officially asked Brian if he would serve as bishop, I looked over at my strong, confident man and saw all 6 feet 4 inches of him slumped down in his chair like an old grandma's stocking trying to hide in her shoe. His face was pallid, his eyes blinked back tears, and as he clutched Tippy to his chest he croaked out the words, "I'll try."
It's that humility that will, in part, make him such a great bishop.
The little bit of life perspective I have gleaned (along with having kids in sports) has shown me glimpses of how the Lord sets up his plays. He doesn't just throw us into the game-- He sets us up to succeed first. Of course, we have to be listening and willing to implement his coaching, but that's another lesson.
As early as we are in this game of bishoping, we have already seen some of the Lord's masterful set up.
I'll have to let Brian tell you about the ways he has felt himself personally being prepared for this, but I can tell you three of my own stories.
Early in the Come Follow Me year, (we're in the Doctrine and Covenants), I came across verses in section 25 that, as a woman in the church, have always been tricky for me. But this time through, I felt the clouds of confusion lift, and I saw more truth and so much beauty in these words and in this counsel. The Lord says to Emma Smith, "Murmur not because of the things which thou has not seen, for they are withheld from thee and from the world, which is wisdom in me in a time to come. And the office of thy calling shall be for a comfort unto my servant, Joseph Smith, Jun., thy husband, in his afflictions, with consoling words, in the spirit of meekness. ... Let thy soul delight in thy husband, and the glory which shall come upon him."
I wasn't even asking for it, but my mind felt so enlightened regarding these words that it compelled me to teach an impromptu family home evening lesson on it that week and monopolize an entire dinner conversation at a table in Foxes BBQ among close friends.
I won't try to preach the sermon here, because frankly, I'm not sure I could ever put what I now know into words. Some truths must be felt. But I will say this, because of this specific dose of clarity that came five months ago, it is easy for me to say today:
-I will not murmur when my husband has responsibilities I do not have; I can trust that the Lord is guiding us ALL in wisdom.
-I will take the 'office of my calling' as seriously as Brian is taking his; mine is, in part, to 'comfort my husband with consoling words in the spirit of meekness.' President Morris was very clear (speaking half of his words to this subject) that this calling was for both of us. That we are being asked to serve together. That my influence, in part, is the reason they called Brian, that I have a significant part to play in this. So, I'll take it seriously.
-I will 'let my soul delight in my husband and the glory which shall come upon him!'; and I will not make it mean that my glory is any less. Driving past the Hoover Dam bridge a few days after the call, we passed the massive support beams and I felt the whisper, without support, the bridge does not stand.
BYU professor Mary Jane Woodger said "I believe on many occasions that Joseph held the church together, but it was Emma and the Lord that held Joseph together." Was Emma's role any less important than Joseph's in the eyes of God?
I would offer an emphatic no.
Joseph could not have done what he did without her, and just because the eyes of the world and the church don't always esteem her as they do Joseph doesn't mean it wasn't the way of it. Whose eyes am I trying to impress anyway? God sees me.
Two days before Brian was called, we were watching one of the new Spiderman movies as a family. Did you know that God can speak to you through Spiderman movies? Of course he can... he's a master of communication.
There is a moment when Spiderman is crumpled in a heap on the ground. He's in the middle of battling the end guy and seems to be losing. He's bloody, torn, bruised, tired, and losing faith in himself. At that moment, MJ comes onto the scene, gets down on the ground with him, cups his face between her hands, looks straight into his eyes and says, paraphrased, "You. Can. Do. This. You can do this, and you are the only one who can." It was her confidence in him that gave him the strength to keep going and eventually come out victorious.
As I watched the scene, I narrowed my eyes and the thought dropped into my head, "You know, I could do a better job of being like that for Brian." This thought resurfaced in my mind off and on for the next two days, and when I saw Brian crumpled like that old Grandma's stocking in the chair next to me, I realized that the Lord had prepared me, just two days ago, for this.
The office of my calling had begun, and it was time for me to 'comfort my husband with consoling words in the spirit of meekness.'
Channeling MJ, I knew exactly what to do.
Eventually it all went public, and the support for Brian has been really, really beautiful to watch. I wish I'd started counting all the times people said some version of, "I knew it was going to be you." At first, we laughed, but as it has gone on, it has quickly turned into something more astonishing.
