Recent writings aside, I'm not the most spiritually sensitive character around. I believe myself to be one of those souls for whom the Spirit carries a really, really big hammer in case he needs to get in touch with me. "Hello? Woody? You listening?..." CLANG! "Ah. Finally got your attention." He then fills me in on something that was probably obvious to everyone else in my life, and figured I needed to be clued in. "Yo. Woody. See that gal? The one you knew in high school and were too chicken to talk to? She's the one you need to marry. Get on it."
I'm taking a few liberties here, of course. In real life, the Spirit probably would have communicated the above in a somewhat different manner:
"And the Spirit appeareth unto Woody by night in a dream because Woody was too busy by day venting his spleen at various Microsoft® products. And the Spirit saith unto Woody, 'Verily, the woman thou beholdest; and whom thou hast known from thy shallow and vain youth; she it is whom thou shalt wed. NOW.'" Or maybe it was just a strong impression that I had.
I say this because of a bad habit of mine. Once in a great while, I'll be sitting around doing things of little or no consequence (although in this morning's case, one could argue that there could indeed be huge consequences if I fail to take my shower) and I'll feel the rumblings of pending change in my life. Most of the time these rumblings are innocuous in nature. Probably the result of little or no sleep the night before. But occasionally they take on the aspect of a life-changing event. It happened a few months in advance of my learning that the company I'd worked for for over fifteen years was about to trade me to another division in another county. Hence our move to Orange County. It also happened a few months before my calling to the Stake Sunday School presidency.
And therein lies the rub. It always happens at a minimum of a few months before anything of consequence actually happens. The problem is, I hate dealing with the anticipation. What if whatever it is that's supposed to happen doesn't happen? What then? Was it my fault, or was I picking up on the wrong signal to begin with? And occasionally I miss the boat altogether. Mrs. Woody just received a new calling that appeared literally out of nowhere, so far as I was concerned. One minute we're both planning lessons for the 2nd Sunday together, the next she's doing the Ward bulletin instead. Didn't see that one coming! (I'll grant that this hardly qualifies as a "life-changing event," but it could. One never knows, with Ward bulletins.)
So I'm taking my shower this morning and it hits me. Change is in the air. (Note to my siblings: No, taking a shower is NOT that kind of change for Woody.) I felt it hard enough to make mention of it to Mrs. Woody afterward. She handled it quite well, I must admit. Mildly interested, I would have to say. Of course, knowing as she does that I get these feelings many weeks before anything actually happens, it could also be that she's taking the "wait and see" approach. Wait until Bro. So-and-so, the Stake Executive Secretary nails me in the hallway one Sunday. Then get worked up about it.
Of course you know what will happen. In a few weeks I'll have forgotten all about today's feeling. I'll be blissfully walking the halls of the Stake Center during the bloc and WHAM! I'll be cornered by one of our Stake Presidency. We have two of them in our ward. It's unfair, really, because either one of them could just plant himself down behind me in Priesthood and lean over. "Say, Bro. Woody, we've been meaning to talk to you..." It's happened before.
So remind me, would you, next time you see me? Just say, "Hey, Woody, don't forget: Change is coming!" I'll probably look at you as if wondering who forgot to lock the doors to the asylum, but it'll eventually remind me.
Change is good.