And So It Goes...

I went in for a temple recommend interview today after church.  The Cap'n and I have moved to another ward and it's... well, it's a very different ward than the one we've attended for the past 10 years.  I think the average age of members (not including children) is maybe 26.  If we included children, the average age would be four.  So many young couples.  I'd be surprised if the bishop has seen 32 candles on his cake.  I'd be surprised if I actually heard the sacrament meeting talks above the din of the attendees of the five nurseries we have.  It's been quite an adjustment.  And... truth be told, I haven't handled it well. It triggers all sorts of issues in me that I thought had been conquered.  Apparently, they've only been dormant and I've got some work to do.  I remember those years. Young. Spouse in BYU (forever!). Single parenting with a wedding ring on my finger. Children hanging on every limb.  In the trenches of "sacrificing now for a better life later."  Life all planned out.  Just workin' the plan to get to the envisioned result.  So... not how that turned out.  But, that's a subject for another post (and likely a few counseling sessions).

Today, however,... today was a day I do not want to soon forget.  Another truth being told:  I was not happy about having to go back at 12:30 for a recommend interview.  It was inconvenient.  I would have preferred to relax for the two hours I had before I had to start my Sunday shift for work.  But... the appointment was made and I went.  I took a good book as I assumed I would be sitting in the hallway for awhile before my turn came.  (Aside: the book is called The Temple Experience and I am enjoying the read very, very much.)

So, the door opens and out comes the first counselor in the bishopric.  If he's 29, I'm 30. And since you all know I'm not 30, you win when you divine, "wait, he must not be 29."  Nope, he's a youngster as well.  Great.  Someone my son's age is about to interview me for my season pass to the greatest place this side of heaven.  We sit down and he moves through the questions.  I'm old enough to have them memorized; he's young enough to be able to reference them without reading glasses.

While his nose is buried in the manual, I notice a peachy looking fuzz-ball on his knee.  Then I realize it isn't fuzz; it is his knee.  The threads in his suit pants have worn thin and I can see his knee.  No hole, just worn thin.  Here is this 26-ish young man, serving in a bishopric, with a young family at home, conducting temple interviews, family budget stretched thin, wearing out the knees of a well-worn suit.

Lest I be too obvious... let's just consider what he is doing that only the knees of his pant legs are wearing thin?  I checked the hems.  They are fine. Sure the suit is old.  Who knows? Maybe it was even a mission suit a few years before. The young children and college schedule attest to no extra money for new suits.  But to wear out the knees...  Let's just say I have realized that he leads with the Lord's approbation.  I saw the evidence of the many conversations the two of them have together.