Brief and Dignified

I recently made the switch from serving in Young Women's at church to serving in the Relief Society presidency. So now each week I sit, briefly, in front of a group of smart, wonderful, talented, well-mannered ladies of our congregation and try to comport myself with appropriate decorum. Because the pre-lesson opening is supposed to be brief and dignified.

I think you know where I'm going with this.

I only bring this up because of a recent post on my friend Pmom's blog where she describes a situation in which she could have jumped into a conversation between strangers and offered advice yet refrained. Then she wondered why:

I have a friend who reads this blog, S., and I was thinking about it later: What would S. do? And I reflected that no way would she have said nothing. S. would have said something, and she would have said it in a way that made the other person laugh–possibly thinking she was a tiny bit overbearing, yet funny, but more likely so grateful for the helpful information.

What would S do?! I can't be sure, but my guess is that the mysterious S would probably have jumped right in and drenched the ladies with an outpouring of opinion. Perhaps they would have found her well-intentioned attempt at helpfulness charming. Or quirky. Harmless?

Sigh.

Here's part of my reaction to Pmom's post:

Choosing silence is something I frequently resolve to do more often. A few years back I participated in one of those personality inventory sessions and was horrified when a casual friend said she would have pegged me first as dominant. I found out that it’s not an uncommon perception of an “expressive expressive” personality.

So while you question your reticence, I worry about being perceived as overbearing, pushy, or generally obnoxious. I admire the soft-spoken, the gracious, the ones who measure their words.

But then again, I’ve always wanted straight hair — and I bet you like curls.

I don't really think I am overbearing, pushy, or obnoxious. Or that people who know me think I am those things.

Most of the time.

But what about the people who don't know me well enough to see past the quirks? (And just so you know, thoughts like this did not weigh so heavily upon me when I spent time with a group of teen-aged girls.) But now that I'm with the grown-ups I have wondered... what will they think of me? Am I going to be a bull in the Relief Society china shop? What kind of effect will I have?

As I watched the many different men and women speak during the most recent General Conference of the Church, sat in stake training meetings, and enjoyed attending my first two Relief Society lessons in five years, I tried not to compare myself to others or dwell on my shortcomings.

But I was concerned. Then as I sat in the temple last week I was impressed with the thought that a range of behavior is acceptable to the Lord. I may be way on the far side of dignified, but I like to think I stay within acceptable boundaries.

And just this morning as I spoke with a friend's daughter, one of the darling young women I have served with over the past five years, I found words to describe -- with appropriate brevity and dignity -- what I can bring to service in Relief Society.

An added measure of joyfulness.

Whaddyathink?