Well that… stunk – Troy AC blogpost 3

My eyes are puffy. I think I need some ice.

Yesterday (Friday) was really tough. We spent way too long on pretty straightforward legislation. By the time we got around to the discussion of the boundaries and the vote about whether or not our conference would stay as one body or divide along state lines as we form new conference boundaries, I think everyone was pretty fried. Add to that my personal grief right now, and I was not in a good state.

The members of the Boundaries Teams– both those who worked on the New Conference Team in New York and those (like myself) who were part of the VT-New England discussion– were called up on stage.

I left my tissues in my purse on my chair. First mistake.

Our chairperson explained the process, and a few people from the teams were asked to speak. I wasn’t one of them, which was a very good thing. Then the floor was opened for discussion. People from Vermont were invited to speak first. Many spoke in favor of splitting from New York and joining with New England, but some spoke against it. Then people from New York were invited to speak as well. Most of them expressed sorrow at the thought of losing Vermont, but were open to doing what Vermont wanted. Through this discussion, my tears started to fall. At first I could hold them back, but after three or four speeches, they were flowing pretty freely. Tissue-less, I gave up and started wiping my eyes on the stole I was wearing. It was a Reconciling Ministries network stole; I think it’s supposed to be cried upon.

Note that we are still sitting on stage. In front of everyone. Making a statement of unity and hope.

Yeah. Except for that weeping girl.

Then, all of a sudden, the Bishop calls for the vote, preceded by a moment of silence. As the silence descends, I practically gag, keeping the sob in my throat. I never got to use my childbirth deep-breathing training for actual childbirth, but I used it then.

Note that we’re still on stage. The room is silent, but for me, now sandwiched between the Conference Minister and the chair of the Council on Finance and Administration (who insists he’s “just the numbers guy.” well, I owe just the numbers guy a dry cleaning bill, because I dribbled tears and snot all over his suit coat). I have my head down and am alternately deep-breathing and swearing as I try to avoid giving voice to the actual sob.

She calls the vote.

Head practically between my knees, I don’t look up as people around the room, including every other voting person on the stage, raise their hands in support of slicing my home state off from the rest of my home conference. From my crash position, I raised a trembling hand in opposition.

The Bishop begins to move on to the next piece of legislation, but the Conference Minister, leaving my side, begs a moment for prayer. Bless that woman.

I’m told that as she prayed, the camera zoomed in on me.

5 thoughts on “Well that… stunk – Troy AC blogpost 3”

  1. Nice change. It still doesn’t change the behavior that is inappropriate for an Elder.

    In the spirit of Matthew 18, I pray this is the end of the road for this matter.

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