Special Delivery

Dedicated to All Who Were Ever in the Pacific Drive First Ward

I was in an Apple store in San Francisco when spontaneous applause broke out. A woman walked out the doors, it quieted. I asked the nearest employee what just happened. He said that at Apple you get clapped in on your first day and clapped out on your last. He said they like to welcome newcomers and celebrate those moving on to new opportunities. I was so moved I bought a charger.

Today I was clapped out of my ward, my church congregation, after being clapped in almost 18 years ago. It was hard, like being hit by a tsunami. I've seen it coming for months but had no idea what it would really feel like. I have reflected on what it is that makes this ward so special. This is what I came up with:

This ward isn't cliquey and it won't judge your kids.

It doesn't care how much money you have or what you drive.

It doesn't care if or where you graduated from.

It doesn't care where you work or what you look like.

It doesn't care if you rent or own.

It doesn't care about your square feet or your crow's feet.

It doesn't care how many times you cut bangs (even though you shouldn't have).

This ward could use your best, but will happily accept whatever you are willing to give.

This ward needs your gifts. It will repay you with new ones.

It will be patient with you while you grow, while you get a clue.

If you want to grow faster, accept your callings.

This ward has a Bishop who loves you.

This ward is full of women who need naps. Like the widows of Zarapheth, they sacrifice their last bits of oil and meal by donating dinner time, family time, and sometimes all their free time to the cause.

This ward is full of people who don't feel good. People who show up with migraines, broken knees, broken hearts, cramps, cancer, and confusion. People who are infertile, abused, addicted, depressed, betrayed, unemployed, lonely, and overlooked. People who are worried about their loved ones. People who feel ugly. People who feel forgotten.

This ward won't let you be forgotten.

This ward will hold your baby. If you don't have a baby, it will hold you. It will fast for you and write your name on the temple prayer roll for a decade until you have a baby.

This ward will cry with you. It will stand as close to you as you will let it.

This ward will answer your prayers and carry your burdens.

This ward will be the backdrop to great miracles in your life.

There is power in attending church in a ward. If the family is the fundamental unit of society it is no wonder the Lord organized His church into ward families. One of my favorite stories about family (Greg even read it at RE's baby blessing luncheon) is this:

A few years ago, twin girls Brielle and Kyrie were born prematurely to the Jackson family. They were placed in separate incubators to reduce the risk of infection. Kyrie, the larger sister at two pounds three ounces, quickly began gaining weight and calmly slept. But Brielle, who weighed only two pounds at birth, could not keep up with her. Suddenly one day Brielle's condition became critical. The nurse tried everything she could think of to stabilize Brielle. Still Brielle squirmed and fussed as her oxygen intake plummeted and her heart rate soared. Then the nurse remembered a procedure she had heard about. She said to the worried parents, "Let me just try putting Brielle in with her sister to see if that helps." The parents consented, and the nursed slipped the squirming baby into the incubator with the bigger sister. No sooner had the door of the incubator closed than Brielle snuggled up to Kyrie and calmed right down. Within minutes Brielle's blood-oxygen readings were the best they had been since she was born. As she dozed, Kyrie wrapped her tiny arm around her smaller sibling (see Nancy Sheehan, "A Sister's Helping Hand," Reader's Digest, May 1996, 155-56).

This is what my ward family does for me. When I'm feeling out of the box I just go to church, get an arm around me, and come back to life. When I'm stable and on top of the world I let people snuggle up to me until they feel stronger. In this ward, everyone is strong sometime at something. Together we have it all.