I was peeking around, for a moment, on a website called Mormon Momma. I did a quick search on Bishop's wives and found a thread that I read nearly every word of. There were some comments that I really appreciated and wanted to hang on too for a while. To lazy to write my own thoughts today, I decided after finding some of my own thoughts and feelings written down by others in that thread, that I would share theirs instead.
Feel free to ignore this post, if you want. It's mostly for me.
These are some of the comments left that either spoke to me or I already agreed with and understood, and were worded better than I could write.
Marjean writes:
They say the loneliest person in the ward is the Bishop’s wife. People either don’t talk to you about their problems because they are sure you will tell your husband, or they assume you already know. In fact, you know nothing.
Traci from Bay City, Texas, writes:
I read your column with my bishop husband sitting next to me (a rare occurrence I must say) and we both shook our heads in approval. He was sitting with me because we had just gotten back from vacation and he didn’t have any interviews set up for this Tuesday night. He has now served for five years and five months, but who is counting?
A couple of the things that were not mentioned (maybe it is just us): Since he has gotten so good at not telling me things, he forgets to tell me the things he’s supposed to; like who is in the hospital, or that we were to have been somewhere, etc. This usually leads to an interesting conversation on our part! Another thing is our house and yard is falling apart. I figured that soon enough the weeds will cover the house so you can’t see that is needs painting.
I just can’t do it all, and it seems that we are expected to. I had to take over all of the jobs that were his, and add those to mine. Ugh! So some things have to slide and the bishop’s house is not a showplace for Better Homes and Gardens.
An anonymous reader writes:
On the topic of bishop wives: As a family we always pray for the bishop and their families, especially for their wives and children and I am so glad that my children have heard me pray for them. Now they as include them in their own prayers. It is vital for us to help them as well, as the head of their household is away from home many hours.
Deborah, from San Juan Capistrano, writes:
Yesterday, I cried out to my Heavenly Father that I might know what I needed to do to be a better bishop’s wife. I had been feeling like my relationships with my friends in our ward had slipped. “What had I done?” I wanted to know. “Why are so many members critical of my husband?” I asked. Then, today, a good friend (and newly called RS President in our ward) forwarded this article to me. After sobbing and then thanking my Heavenly Father for angels on earth like my friend, I thought I would send some thoughts.
I had been feeling like I needed some serious divine help if I was ever going to be able to forgive the ignorant criticism of my good husband (bishop now for two years). What has hurt me the most has been criticism of members who should know better. I have wanted, at times, to go over to their homes and say,” have you forgotten what it is like to be a bishop? Have you forgotten what it is like to be a bishop’s wife? Let me remind you.” After seeking advise from my mother, however, the wife of a former bishop and stake president, she counseled me to avoid that exercise. She told me that there was really nothing that I could do or say to make them do better. All I could do was to fix my own heart and continue to support a bishop (my husband) who is doing an incredible job.
This has been a very lonely six months for me. When my husband was first called to be bishop, our stake president and his wife told us that we should expect our friends to act differently, that it would be somewhat of a lonely calling (if we were doing it right). I really didn’t experience that right away, but I sure am now. When my husband was called, he felt like some things needed changing in our ward. What we found was that old traditions die pretty hard. When you make decisions regarding callings or programs in the ward based on what you feel inspired is right (not popular), feathers most certainly will get ruffled.
writes:
I am new to this; is it okay to pick up a thread that has been silent for awhile? I have to say something. I had been praying for this! I stumbled on to Mormon Momma accidentally one day recently, and it has helped me so much already, in many areas. God bless you all! Especially thank you to those who started it and work so hard to keep it going. I think Heavenly Father will kiss your foreheads when He sees you again. I should be doing laundry and dishes and painting the bathroom, but you are feeding my soul! I really needed this! And I thank you for your kind hearts and your willingness to reach across the world to help. This is charity in work clothes.
My husband was called to be the bishop of our ward in January 2007. Just prior to that, he had been serving in a bishopric in the singles branch. It was great in the singles branch. We will get through this, but it is not the picnic I assumed it would be. I saw a bishop’s wife from our stake in the grocery store yesterday, and she came up to me all enthused and asked me how I liked being the bishop’s wife. She said, “Isn’t it a wonderful, spiritual experience?” I said “Well?” or something neutral like that. My husband had just spent an afternoon with a woman who stomped into his office, demanded welfare assistance, and told him what his faults were, and I have learned that is not an uncommon experience for a bishop to have. I wanted to deck that woman! And now he and I are working on loving the unloveable, because I think that is what the Savior would have us do. ”
Jeannie says:
My husband served as branch president and then bishop for eight consecutive years. When he was first issued his calling, a very wise and sensitive stake president called our whole family into his office. He told us that family life as we knew it would radically change. He emphasized that this was not a negative thing. Rather, it would be a very blessed, but arduous journey. There would be times when a tangible blessing of stamina would be ours and times when we would falter. There would be praise and a substantial amount of criticism and scrutiny.
He warned us against the pitfall of trying to pour our children into the “bishop’s family” mold and admonished us to “be ourselves.” He also told my husband that on issues that were not confidential, he could seek my advice. Because of this last bit of counsel, I felt included. Perhaps this is the reason I rarely felt shut out when it came to those confidences that were none of my business. In fact, I was grateful not to know all that was discussed.
Judy writes:
I sit, apart from the rest of the cheering parents, on a small, grassy hill which overlooks the baseball diamond where my ten-year-old son is “giving his all” at first base. It has been a rough week for me, a bishop’s wife of only two years, and I am having difficulty controlling my tears. My husband, attending to a ward matter, is not watching our son with me, but my sweet sister is.
She senses my turmoil and asks, “Can you talk about it?”
“No,” I say, “But will you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” she answers.
I take a deep breath. “When you go to church on Sunday,” I finally whisper, “Would you give your bishop’s wife a hug?”
“I will,” she says, “I will.”
Feel free to ignore this post, if you want. It's mostly for me.
These are some of the comments left that either spoke to me or I already agreed with and understood, and were worded better than I could write.
Marjean writes:
They say the loneliest person in the ward is the Bishop’s wife. People either don’t talk to you about their problems because they are sure you will tell your husband, or they assume you already know. In fact, you know nothing.
Traci from Bay City, Texas, writes:
I read your column with my bishop husband sitting next to me (a rare occurrence I must say) and we both shook our heads in approval. He was sitting with me because we had just gotten back from vacation and he didn’t have any interviews set up for this Tuesday night. He has now served for five years and five months, but who is counting?
A couple of the things that were not mentioned (maybe it is just us): Since he has gotten so good at not telling me things, he forgets to tell me the things he’s supposed to; like who is in the hospital, or that we were to have been somewhere, etc. This usually leads to an interesting conversation on our part! Another thing is our house and yard is falling apart. I figured that soon enough the weeds will cover the house so you can’t see that is needs painting.
I just can’t do it all, and it seems that we are expected to. I had to take over all of the jobs that were his, and add those to mine. Ugh! So some things have to slide and the bishop’s house is not a showplace for Better Homes and Gardens.
An anonymous reader writes:
On the topic of bishop wives: As a family we always pray for the bishop and their families, especially for their wives and children and I am so glad that my children have heard me pray for them. Now they as include them in their own prayers. It is vital for us to help them as well, as the head of their household is away from home many hours.
Deborah, from San Juan Capistrano, writes:
Yesterday, I cried out to my Heavenly Father that I might know what I needed to do to be a better bishop’s wife. I had been feeling like my relationships with my friends in our ward had slipped. “What had I done?” I wanted to know. “Why are so many members critical of my husband?” I asked. Then, today, a good friend (and newly called RS President in our ward) forwarded this article to me. After sobbing and then thanking my Heavenly Father for angels on earth like my friend, I thought I would send some thoughts.
I had been feeling like I needed some serious divine help if I was ever going to be able to forgive the ignorant criticism of my good husband (bishop now for two years). What has hurt me the most has been criticism of members who should know better. I have wanted, at times, to go over to their homes and say,” have you forgotten what it is like to be a bishop? Have you forgotten what it is like to be a bishop’s wife? Let me remind you.” After seeking advise from my mother, however, the wife of a former bishop and stake president, she counseled me to avoid that exercise. She told me that there was really nothing that I could do or say to make them do better. All I could do was to fix my own heart and continue to support a bishop (my husband) who is doing an incredible job.
This has been a very lonely six months for me. When my husband was first called to be bishop, our stake president and his wife told us that we should expect our friends to act differently, that it would be somewhat of a lonely calling (if we were doing it right). I really didn’t experience that right away, but I sure am now. When my husband was called, he felt like some things needed changing in our ward. What we found was that old traditions die pretty hard. When you make decisions regarding callings or programs in the ward based on what you feel inspired is right (not popular), feathers most certainly will get ruffled.
writes:
I am new to this; is it okay to pick up a thread that has been silent for awhile? I have to say something. I had been praying for this! I stumbled on to Mormon Momma accidentally one day recently, and it has helped me so much already, in many areas. God bless you all! Especially thank you to those who started it and work so hard to keep it going. I think Heavenly Father will kiss your foreheads when He sees you again. I should be doing laundry and dishes and painting the bathroom, but you are feeding my soul! I really needed this! And I thank you for your kind hearts and your willingness to reach across the world to help. This is charity in work clothes.
My husband was called to be the bishop of our ward in January 2007. Just prior to that, he had been serving in a bishopric in the singles branch. It was great in the singles branch. We will get through this, but it is not the picnic I assumed it would be. I saw a bishop’s wife from our stake in the grocery store yesterday, and she came up to me all enthused and asked me how I liked being the bishop’s wife. She said, “Isn’t it a wonderful, spiritual experience?” I said “Well?” or something neutral like that. My husband had just spent an afternoon with a woman who stomped into his office, demanded welfare assistance, and told him what his faults were, and I have learned that is not an uncommon experience for a bishop to have. I wanted to deck that woman! And now he and I are working on loving the unloveable, because I think that is what the Savior would have us do. ”
Jeannie says:
My husband served as branch president and then bishop for eight consecutive years. When he was first issued his calling, a very wise and sensitive stake president called our whole family into his office. He told us that family life as we knew it would radically change. He emphasized that this was not a negative thing. Rather, it would be a very blessed, but arduous journey. There would be times when a tangible blessing of stamina would be ours and times when we would falter. There would be praise and a substantial amount of criticism and scrutiny.
He warned us against the pitfall of trying to pour our children into the “bishop’s family” mold and admonished us to “be ourselves.” He also told my husband that on issues that were not confidential, he could seek my advice. Because of this last bit of counsel, I felt included. Perhaps this is the reason I rarely felt shut out when it came to those confidences that were none of my business. In fact, I was grateful not to know all that was discussed.
Judy writes:
I sit, apart from the rest of the cheering parents, on a small, grassy hill which overlooks the baseball diamond where my ten-year-old son is “giving his all” at first base. It has been a rough week for me, a bishop’s wife of only two years, and I am having difficulty controlling my tears. My husband, attending to a ward matter, is not watching our son with me, but my sweet sister is.
She senses my turmoil and asks, “Can you talk about it?”
“No,” I say, “But will you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” she answers.
I take a deep breath. “When you go to church on Sunday,” I finally whisper, “Would you give your bishop’s wife a hug?”
“I will,” she says, “I will.”
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