Musings on Macro-relevancy and Paying Attention

One of the issues associated with being released from a calling is"relevancy." Having been released as bishop two years ago there's a nagging and continuing question of whether I'm contributing. Of course any feelings of irrelevance are relative, not objective, since the experience of being a bishop will never disappear (and doesn't seem to even fade that much). With me, the feelings are not exactly new. I still remember talking about doing "big" things around Papa Bob, wondering, for example, how fixing people's windshields was making much of a contribution to the world (why couldn't I have become a doctor instead of a businessman), and he would consistently ask, "Are you doing your hometeaching?" And, it really does come down to that. God's world is a world of individuals. HE would never hesitate to leave the flock and go find the one, so the whole feeling of "macro relevancy" is flawed in the first place. For example, I'm so impressed with Byron Shaffer, the bishop who preceded me. He finds people to visit and just does it, no assignment, usually no stewardship, just out loving people one at a time, and that's enough, for him and them. Still, it doesn't make relevancy go away for me, flawed or not. (Another of my many life problems, making irrelevance seem relevant.) Anyway, since being released Jeanne and I have tried to keep doing worthwhile things - we still provide our basement for seminary every morning and I make it a point to take the students to school. And that brings me to "life lesson" of the day.

Several days ago, backing out of the garage with a car full of seminary students on the way to school, Ian Raleigh, who was sitting in the front passenger seat commented as we exited the garage, "Wow, that was close." He was referencing the distance between the sideview mirrors and the wall of the garage door opening.


There is generally about two inches on each side if you are well centered, but I tend to come as close as possible to the drivers side, knowing that if it's inside two inches all will be well on the passenger side.

"I've got it mastered," was my response, immediately picturing the scratches on each of the sideview mirrors from coming too close, "as long as I pay attention," came the addition. The words seemed profound as soon as they came out. Does that ever happen to you? You say some seemingly innocuous thing only to have your own words strike you like a hammer?

Ian and I spoke all the way to school on the gospel lessons associated with backing the Honda Pilot out of the garage. We decided no matter how good you got at keeping some commandment, you still have to pay attention. No matter how secure you feel in your understanding of the Gospel, you still have to do the "pay attention" things, like read the scriptures and pray and go to church, etc. And, we decided that sometimes you SCRATCH the mirrors, it just happens, even when you are seemingly paying attention, and at times like that you realize there will be a little pain associated with getting them fixed (money for paint jobs, repentance for sins) because no scratched mirrors can get into heaven. They can be made perfect though, whether at the body shop or through Christ's atonement.

Hope that helps somebody out there, it's helping me right now. Thanks Ian. Thanks God.