Ward Family

As an introvert, socializing in a large group setting is not my forte. In fact, places where there are large groups of people all gathered together can really stress me out. So, for example, church. Especially when it seems, as it so often does in Mormon singles’ wards’ culture, that the main expectation of church is socializing. To be honest, sometimes this drives me crazy.

But lately I’ve been realizing on a more personal level one of the blessings that comes from actually getting to know the people at church. Church leaders often refer to a “ward family,” and I’m starting to understand what that means with my heart.

This past semester has been one of draining struggles. Before my mission, I would have been so hesitant to ask for support from those around me. I would have kept my struggles to myself until I absolutely could not take it anymore. But something about spending 24/7 with someone and not being able to hide my hard days from them, whether I wanted to or not, taught me a much-needed lesson: it’s okay to let others into the hard parts of my life. Not only is it okay, it’s also helpful. And what’s more: there are always Christlike people around me who want to help.

And so, these past few months, I have once again seen that Christlike desire to help in those people who are around me. And I have found the majority of those people in my ward: neighbors, roommates, the bishop, home teachers, visiting teachers, friends. I have felt my Savior’s love through the willingness that these people in my ward have shown in spending time with me and serving me. I feel so much love from those around me, and it fills me with the strength to get through yet another day. It gives me hope that I can figure out solutions and that things will get better. The effort they put into serving me helps me understand my worth.

And it’s not just one person, but a whole multitude of them, and each one brings with them a different strength. Including those people whom I barely know who keep bringing me cookies. I don’t even know how they knew I was struggling, but somehow they did, and without even really knowing me they are showing me that they care.

It makes me think of a game from a ward activity a couple months ago: each person in a group of five or so had to hold onto a strand of duct tape connected to a pen and draw a picture. Now, picture this in your mind: If only one person holds onto a strand of the duct tape, they can hold the pen upright, no way could they actually draw something with it. Another person holding a strand on the other side would balance it out better. Add two more people to the other corners, and the pen’s now fairly stable. The more people there are supporting the pen, the easier it is for the pen to draw.

Lately I have been that pen. Some days I just feel like lying flat on the ground. So I read my scriptures and I pray, and I find myself standing upright, tied straight to heaven. But even with heaven pulling me upright sometimes it’s still hard to move myself enough to make a mark.

But then my ward family gets involved, and now I have even more people holding onto the strands of duct tape, reinforcing what scripture study and prayer are telling me, that I can do this and everything will work together for my good. All these people supporting me, reinforcing me, helping me not just to stand up straight but to move forward – and suddenly, when I didn’t feel that I could even stand up on my own, I find that somehow I have the strength to make a piece of art.