Teaching and Inspiration

I'm still serving as 2nd counselor in our Stake Sunday School presidency, and I still have no idea what it is we do for a living. I'm not trying to be ironic about it. I'm merely pointing out that after nearly two years, the face of the Sunday School has changed to where our positions seem to matter less than perhaps they once did.

We had been a presidency only for about six months when the Church announced that they were doing away with the position of Teacher Improvement Coordinator (or TIC). This stymied us — and me, in particular — because my special assignment in the presidency was to "train the trainers," so to speak. When that position was retired, I was left with occasional visits to wards on Sunday, and our semi-annual Auxilliary Training meetings.

I bring this up, incidentally, because of something Mrs. Woody has experienced lately. At the turn of every year we receive new manuals (we call them "books" now) for Priesthood and Relief Society. Since we're both using the same book in our 2nd and 3rd week instruction, it's been fascinating to me how differently the two organizations approach a given topic. I'm not just referring to the stereotypical difference between Priesthood (read it, discuss it, deep-six it) versus Relief Society (doilies, graphics, object lessons) either. Mrs. Woody and I both teach 3rd hour on the same schedule. (This is my moonlighting job because it comes from the quorum.) Our approaches to any given topic tend to be vastly different, because we both understand our intended audiences and what will help them learn the main objectives of those lessons. We constantly bounce ideas off of each other, and we even occasionally use the same material, but our lessons are always quite different in execution.

In the front of each manual (or book) we find counsel from the brethren not to stray from the material presented in that manual. There are valid reasons for this counsel, primary of which is that these manuals are prepared under inspiration and give us valuable guidance regarding the topic at hand. My stake Sunday School boss takes the view that nothing should ever be presented in a class that isn't found in the manual. He has been in classes where a teacher may completely ignore the manual and take their material from, say, some book McConkie wrote forty years ago. He has asked us to pass this counsel along to the wards we visit, and we have done so.

At the same time, I find myself in a quandry as an instructor. I have never been able to stick completely with the manual. I have always taken the position that, as an instructor, I am also allowed a certain amount of inspiration in preparing my lessons. So long as I am careful to use materials that support what is presented in the manual, I feel that this is acceptable. Mrs. Woody has a similar view, and her style includes the use of stories that help illustrate the quotes she focuses on in her lessons.

When we received the Joseph Smith book this year, Mrs. Woody was determined to try it the way she felt the manual wanted her to. In other words, she was going to try to stick to the manual and not use the stories that have been such a huge part of her lesson plan. She has had two lessons so far this year, and has felt as if she weren't reaching her class the way she wanted. We discussed this after our first lesson in January and decided that it might have been one of those occasions where someone needed to hear that lesson, even if we ourselves didn't feel terrific about it. This past Sunday, though, she still didn't feel quite right about her lesson and we discussed it again.

Drawing on my long experience as an instructor in the Church, and perhaps despite the counsel I've received from my Sunday School president, I told Mrs. Woody about my views on personal inspiration in the preparation of our lessons. I told her that, as her husband, I supported her decisions to teach by the Spirit and take those lessons whereever he seemed to point her. She appreciated that advice and felt that this was in line with her own thoughts and feelings.

Her inspiration in all of this is our new President and Prophet of the Church, President Monson. Mrs. Woody found a quote by Orson Scott Card describing precisely why President Monson's reputation as a storyteller is a good thing for the Church. Key quote:

We have learned to expect that a talk by President Monson will include many stories about real people. I've heard some of my intellectual friends complain that it's all fluff — but that is only because they don't understand that the stories are the deep and important doctrines[.]

That's why Christ taught using stories.

There's so much more to Card's explanation, and I heartily recommend you read the entire thing. This quote, however, was exactly the vindication (or justification, if you prefer) that Mrs. Woody needed. If our living Prophet of the Lord uses stories in his teaching, and is, in fact, only mirroring the Lord's earthly ministry, why shouldn't she be able to continue to use stories to illustrate her lessons?

One thing I've learned about the Church over the years: Rigidity has its place, particularly where saving ordinances are concerned. There can be no wavering when administering the sacrament, for example. The baptismal prayer is so essential to our individual salvation that we say it, word for word, as it was dictated by the Lord to his servants on earth.

But nearly everything else has some wiggle room built into it. I have known a man in my life who was able to serve in the temple, even though he had a Word of Wisdom problem. Clearly he had worked that out between himself, his bishop, and the Lord. I have heard just about every interpretation possible of what the phrase "love thy neighbor as thyself" means, and they are probably all correct as they pertain to the progression and understanding of the individuals involved. I myself have made mistakes in my instruction over the years — again, based on my level of progression and understanding at the time — and have never been called for "false doctrine." I have been corrected, certainly, but the people who heard me probably realized that it was never my intention to deliberately lead my class astray.

One of the problems the Israelites had throughout the years in which they labored under Mosaic law was their increasingly rigid interpretation of that law. Had they restricted themselves to observance of the law and an understanding of the intent of that law, they would perhaps never have had organizations such as the Pharisees leading them astray.

So Mrs. Woody will prepare her next lesson under the direction of the Spirit and allow herself to find just the right material that will support the topic. My money says she'll probably find a story or two. (For the record, she has never used a doily in her lessons since I've known her.) She will likely feel better about her lesson, and the sisters will respond as they have in the past. They will give her the attention that says "that's a wonderful story, and, you know, it reminds me of something that happened to me..."

Which thing is, I believe, very pleasing to the Lord.

Mrs. Woody Update

It dawns on me that, like many a bad writer before me, I've been leaving huge chunks of plot threads largely unresolved. I am primarily guilty of failing to provide an online update on Mrs. Woody's condition as she recovers from her horrific infection that had her hospitalized for twelve days after our vacation.

Mrs. Woody is doing extremely well considering what she's had to overcome. The infection is pretty much gone and the only thing left is the healing of the actual abcess. The trick there is to have the pocket left behind by the infection heal up at or around the same time as the opening. We have become stockholders in whatever companies make Iodoform. Also rubber gloves, ABD pads, and a number of other medical supplies that we had hitherto ignored. We also have become evangelists for Duo-Derm, which has saved Mrs. Woody's skin, quite literally. We use the Duo-Derm as a patch surrounding the wound, and the dressings are anchored to the patch, rather than to Mrs. Woody.

Woody sits second chair when it comes to wound care. We've had home-care nurses come out — every day for a few weeks, but now only twice a week — to do the irrigation and repacking. Volunteers from our ward take the off days. These sweet sisters are all trained nurses, but only one of them is a working nurse right now. However, all three of them have been more than willing to use their skills on Mrs. Woody's behalf and have huge rewards awaiting them in higher places. The upshot for Woody is that I become the work site foreman. Since we have so many different people (we've had at least 9 different home-care nurses so far!) come to repack and dress Mrs. Woody's "second belly button," we have to reiterate the instructions over and over and over. One physician's assistant that saw Mrs. Woody on a follow-up was quite pleased that we were able between us to give her everything she needed to know when she was seeing the wound for the first time. One learns a lot when one is subjected to modern medical care.

Naturally the Relief Society has been providing meals a couple times a week. Woody is not quite the miracle worker that Mrs. Woody sometimes portrays him to be, and my domestic skills are somewhat toddler-like in their execution. I can cook. I can clean. I can spend time with the Woodyettes. I have a miserable time doing all three things at once, along with putting in my eight hours (or more) a day for the office. Thank goodness I can telecommute!

So Mrs. Woody is home, healing up nicely, and raring to be back on her feet for good. We're in the first week of our school year, and Mrs. Woody hasn't been able to so much as boot up her computer to prepare her lessons for the Woodyettes. We're going to work on that today. Also, we're kind of hoping to catch Harry Potter 5 before it disappears completely from the theaters. We're back to Church now, but only for Sacrament and a portion of Sunday School. Endurance is another thing on Mrs. Woody's To Do list.

Meanwhile, the Woodyettes have enjoyed a far longer summer vacation than we had intended this year. Not only has Mrs. Woody not been able to start school up yet, but our friends from the ward keep inviting the girls over for play days and swimming parties. Tonight we do start-of-school-year father's blessings which is how they know we're serious about getting school started. I think they're actually looking forward to it.

So are we.

The Inner Dad Requires the Inner Mom

Being a successful Inner Dad is all about having the love, companionship, and support of a loving Inner Mom. If I have become any sort of good father to my children, it's only because I have married the greatest Mom on earth that I know of, next to my own.

Mrs. Woody is ill. We were on the last leg of our Inner Vacation a couple of weeks ago when Mrs. Woody got a smallish wound that ultimately developed into a massive infection. Bad enough, at any rate, to land her in the hospital a few days ago.

Inner Dads can get a tad maudlin about family members and hospitals. It goes without saying, of course, that when an Inner Dad himself enters a hospital for any reason, we (in our own minds) have a much more stoic outlook about the whole thing. (At least one Inner Mom of my acquaintance, who happens to work at the hospital where my beloved rests tonight, disputes me on this point. According to her, her husband was the "worst patient" she'd ever seen when he was in for arthroscopic work on his knee.) We boast about being able to weather even hospital food because we are manly men, and not adverse to a little human suffering.

So long as it's us, anyway.

But let this Inner Dad confess tonight that even on those occasions when my daughters required a quick visit to Urgent Care, I was screaming on the inside. "Please, Heavenly Father," my prayers began, "let me be the one to suffer through this!"

Once it became clear that Mrs. Woody was destined to endure several days' worth of suffering and (as Dave Barry puts it) being subjected to medical care, my prayers began in earnest. Let this pain and agony be upon me, and not my sweet wife! My fevered brain began conjuring up all sorts of worst-case scenarios that have affected not only my dreams, but my ability to get to sleep in the first place. My heart hurts; not because of any perceived physical abnormality, but because it wants nothing more than to have my Sweetheart not suffer anymore.

I need my Inner Mom. My own Mom — the one who bore and raised me — has limited powers now to help me through life. I know she prays constantly on my behalf, but she also has four other children who need equal access to those prayers. She also has a loving husband, numerous grandchildren, and lives in Texas.

Mrs. Woody, on the other hand, is my constant companion. We do everything together. We share each other's ambitions and dreams. We love and support each other through lean times and physical challenges. We enjoy our children. We love teaching them (and being taught by them). We are a team.

So I crave your prayers tonight. Not really for me, but for the main reason why I'm a sane man today. She will get better; of that there is no doubt. She has access to talented medical professionals, and we have fairly decent Inner Insurance. Pray that she'll recover soon so we can get back to enjoying our life's many challenges and blessings.

The Inner Dad thanks you in advance.