Intra-Building Conflict: A Plea for Peace

About two years ago, I was in a ward that I loved and loved me back. We had knit our lives together over several years–sacrificed, worshiped, cleaned, cried and celebrated together. Like a good marriage, we had our ups and downs but we were one in a beautiful way.

We were also united against a common foe: the other ward in our building. Those stuck-up jerks thought that just because they were richer than us, they could just do whatever they wanted–park the aisles of the parking lot, leave their programs and snacks all over our pews, talk loudly in the foyer during our Sacrament Meetings. They let their Nursery kids play with play dough every week, and every week we found bits of it ground into the Nursery room carpet. Don’t they know you can’t do that! There’s like a rule, I’m sure, look it up. And if there isn’t, well, there ought to be. They took too long to vacate rooms, rudely chattering away. In sum, they acted like they owned the place–everything was always about them, and they were too self-centered to think about how this all was affecting us. We even put little memos on the windshields of offending aisle-parked cars. They still parked there. So intolerable, so unchristian, that other ward.

About two years ago, a tiny bit of our ward including our family was carved out and added to that other ward, proving that God is a fan of The Twilight Zone. I was shocked. Of course we’d heard the rumors about upcoming boundary changes, but I just couldn’t believe it. That other ward?

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