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A Series of Fortunate Events

I know that Heavenly Father answers our prayers, but there are moments when I feel that he hears the most specific details of what we ask him and he answers us in a way that is better than we could have imagined.

Eight months ago, I was asked to be the director of our local genealogy library.  I was honored at the opportunity and a bit intimidated by the responsibility.  I had a lot of great ideas that I hoped to implement, and I was excited to get going.

What I didn't know at the time was that there were some serious problems simmering between workers in the library.  These problems had in fact been continuing for years without any resolution, and there was incredible tension between several of the workers.

I wanted to come into the situation, making no judgements.  Instead, I surveyed everything and everyone.  What was their impression of the situation?  Had they felt any conflict?  I personally spoke with several of the "offended" members, asking them if we could come together to resolve the problem.  One worker (we'll call him SLASH) expressed gratitude that I had taken the time to listen to his concerns.  I asked him if he could forgive and forget all that had been done to him and move on in a new direction with me.  He agreed to do it, and I was encouraged.

Do a slow fast forward over the next eight months to the present day.  This has been one of the craziest situations I have ever faced.  If you are a Star Trek fan, there's one phrase to describe what have I endured:  Kobayashi Maru.  This has proven to be an unsolvable situation.

Turns out, SLASH has a wife (we'll call her BURN) who feeds the fire of offense and drama.  It doesn't matter what one says or does to either of these two, no one can ever win.  I thought in the beginning that I would just release SLASH from his responsibilities if he was unable to work within the library without causing drama, but the powers above me have refused to do so because SLASH has threatened to leave our church if he is released.  As you can see, saying that manipulation rules the situation is an understatement.

The crazy thing?  This has been going on for at least the past seven years.  SLASH has controlled everything and done things his way (or the highway).  His threats have been heard and sustained.  He has had all power...with one exception.  He feels (and has said publicly) that my job should be his.  In fact, he had no problem at all, making this statement to the powers that be, right in front of my face.  I spoke to the three directors before me (all men), and without provocation, each brought up SLASH and the trouble he had caused.  None of them had the courage to stand up to him to get him out of the library, and the problem only escalated.

The crazy thing?  SLASH thinks that he's God's gift to man, but in reality, he knows almost nothing about genealogy and we hear constant complaints about his "help".  He throws people out of the library that he doesn't like, and when patrons come in, seeking help, he refuses to give it.

So, when I began this job (not knowing any of this), I thought we would all have a kumbaya moment, and go from there, doing new and great things to pique the interest of the general public in genealogy.  Instead, I liken the situation to this analogy:  I was ready to fire up the Volvo so that we could go on a figurative genealogical road trip, but instead, I'm still waiting for the flat tires to be fixed and the radiator hoses to be connected.  I walked into this job, three steps behind, and I can't even get to the starting line.

I think I could have handled all of this if SLASH hadn't gotten personal with me (as he has with every other person).  Along the line of "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer", I asked him to work with me in the beginning.  He agreed, and I thought this would be the resolution to the problem.  He could have quite a bit of power, he could help make the decisions, and hopefully we would mend some fences.  Within a month, he had quit because he didn't like one or two of the things that I asked him to do--things I was doing also, but I thought we could split the task.  He quit, and the attacks on my character began.  I heard numerous reports of him speaking badly of me in the library in front of patrons and other workers.  He refused to speak with me and wouldn't return any of my emails.  Too, people began coming out of the woodwork, telling me how much SLASH and BURN had hurt them in the past.  Stories from years ago.  I even met people who suffered anxiety attacks at the thought of even being in the same room as the two terrors.

I had two choices:  ignore SLASH (as my predecessors had done), or face the problem and get SLASH out of the library.

Back in September, I was at my lowest low of my post-ankle-breaking depression.  I felt I had little purpose in life.  I couldn't run (and I didn't want to anyway), half of my kids don't live at home anymore (and the girls don't need much help anyway), and I didn't have much to do.  I remember crying on the floor of my bathroom, praying to Heavenly Father that he would give me some purpose in life.  I wanted a challenge--something that would make me feel needed or useful.

This job was a direct answer to that prayer.

In fact, people have told me that when they heard I had this job, they knew I would be perfect for it.  There have been women who have believed that I am the one to finally get rid of SLASH and his
drama.  They have built me up in such a way that I almost feel like Superman, standing on the hall of justice, ready to right the wrong in the world.

I decided to take on SLASH (and BURN) and their coven of evil croonies.

One problem.  My self-esteem tank is on constant "empty".  I knew this would get personal, and I wasn't sure I could handle it.

Let me tell you....it has gotten more personal than I could have ever imagined.  Attacks on my character are being spread all over the local area.  My daily mantra?  I have done nothing wrong.  Seriously, I need to keep reminding myself of this, and I tell all of the people who have been offended by SLASH along the way that they too have done nothing wrong.

While I've been fighting SLASH, I have tried to do some good in the library along the way.  I have set up an indexing program for teenagers, I have begun a training program for workers in the library, and I have had more meetings and sent countless emails about genealogy and its goodness.  I have plans to create a website and start more programs to help people discover their own roots.  However, it feels as though I am making very little progress because of my lack of progress in ridding the earth of SLASH.

Well, there was a big hullabaloo yesterday.  One of the biggest so far.  I am so close to getting him ousted, but I had a major set back.  And in all honesty, I just lost it.

I have tried to internalize most of what happens.  My family doesn't need the extra stress of this drama, and I don't want to be like SLASH and spread gossip.  I share a lot of my insecurities with John because I know I can trust him, but it's become too much for him even.

So, yesterday morning, I knelt down by the couch and just poured my heart out to Heavenly Father.  I explained that perhaps I wasn't the right person for this job.  I have worked and stressed and worked some more, trying to resolve this unresolvable situation.  I have tried to be patient, and loving, and kind with people who don't treat me the same way.  I have tried to still keep the vision of genealogy in the forefront, but I haven't been very successful at doing this.  I have fought my natural, introverted reaction to just curl up in a ball in my house and hide from it all, and have taken it on, full force.  Too, I have wondered if this job really is for a woman, because I have had the darndest time breaking into the circle of men who make the decisions.  I just wasn't sure that I was making any kind of a difference.

It was at this point that I wished I was the living embodiment of those stories you read in the Ensign magazine:  a woman needs a friend to listen to her, and magically that friend shows up on her front doorstep.  In my heart, I just wanted some validation of what I am doing.  I wanted to feel that all of this trouble was worth it.  Sadly, neither my doorbell rang, nor my phone.

Tired of crying and stressing about all of this, I headed out for a run.  I couldn't think of any other way to get rid of the bad feelings and to clear my mind.  It was 85 degrees outside, and I'm 40 pounds heavier than the last time I ran, but gosh darn it, I was going running.

I didn't run for long.  Maybe 35 minutes, and believe me, I'm feeling the plate in my ankle this morning, but it felt good to clear my mind.  When my body is stressed out and in survival mode, it's hard for my brain to think about anything else!

As I came back home, I picked up the mail at the end of our driveway.  I was surprised to see a small package with a return address that I instantly recognized:  McGruder, Helotes, TX.

Angie McGruder was a friend of mine back in Germany.  (Have I mentioned that pretty much every friend of mine comes from our time in Germany?)  Her husband, Mark, worked with John in the bishopric of our ward, and her son, Travis, was a good friend of Ethan's.  Occasionally, a comment of hers pops up on this blog, and I'm always delighted to read what she has to say.  She's insightful, intelligent and thoughtful.

I put the package aside as I headed upstairs to the shower.  When I came back down, the package was calling to me and I opened it.

*cue more tears*

Several months ago, I wrote a blog post entitled My Drop of Honey.  I wrote of a talk that M. Russell Ballard had given about service.  I had taken on his challenge of praying for opportunities each day to serve someone, and my life had been enriched because of it.

I guess Angie read that post, and in a moment of what I believe was pure inspiration, she bought a book entitled "One Drop at a Time" which is the exact talk with accompanying illustrations.  I thought it was such a sweet gesture for her to send the book to me, especially considering we haven't spoken in over seven years, but I realized it was much, much more when I turned the book over and read the quote on the back.  It reads:

Your simple, daily acts of service may not seem like much in and of themselves, but when considered collectively they become just like the one-twelfth teaspoon of honey contributed by a single bee to the hive.

I may not have had a friend show up on my doorstep, or call me, but Heavenly Father heard my prayers from that morning.  In fact, he must have known this day was coming in order for Angie to send that book when she did.  I couldn't have asked for a more specific answer to a specific prayer than that.  I didn't even need to open the book to reread the talk--I knew what it said; I just needed a gentle reminder.

I knew then that I need to continue doing what I am doing for the work of family history and for our genealogy library.  I need to believe that good will conquer evil, and if I'm to be Superman with my 1/12 teaspoon full of honey, so be it.  My efforts aren't going unnoticed, and I am encouraged to keep working.

Thank you so much, Angie, for thinking of me and for being inspired, and thank you, Heavenly Father, for hearing and answering my prayers.

Comments

  1. I know this situation in depth and I totally support you Super Aris. Maybe I could be Aqua Man in your hall of justice or one of the power twins. I loved the post and I will pray that Slash and Burn go away quietly.

    ReplyDelete
  2. That is terrible Larisa but it sounds like you have handled it as best you can. I hope it gets better.

    ReplyDelete

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