A little over a month ago, we had a message left on our voicemail from Cocoa or Kona or Cola from the presiding bishopric's office. Hmmm, I didn't know our stake had a presiding bishopric, I thought, I'll have Eric call them back later. When Eric heard the message, he said, "When did this message come through?" A couple days ago. I couldn't really remember.
"Jeana, the presiding bishropric is over the entire church." Right then, our minds started reeling over why the presiding Bishop (Edgely, it is) would be calling our house. My first thought was, Oh no, Eric's being called as a general authority. (Yeah, go ahead and laugh, but I knew it wasn't for some high calling for me. Eric's definitely more righteous.) No one's getting excommunicated are they? Maybe I didn't properly repent for that stuff in college. . .
When we finally reached Bishop Edgely, we found out the reason for the call. Two summers ago, he got ahold of the Salt Lake Tribune and saw Robert Kirby's column that ran right after the accident. (You know the one, the accident that will forever bisect my life into pre and post.) Who knew that general authorities read Kirby's column?
Anyway, General Conference is coming up (this weekend to be exact), and Bishop Edgely will be speaking in the first session on Saturday morning and I'm guessing talking about compassionate service. I'm not sure if he's using our names (I kind of wish he wouldn't actually) but he'll be talking about my ward in the aftermath of the accident.
I thought I should let everyone know so they won't be shocked to hear our names or read it in the Ensign the next month.
Bishop Edgely sent us family-member tickets to attend (I've actually never attended General Conference before), so we'll be there. I just have this frightening thought that the cameras will span to us when he's talking about our accident the way cameras show family members of football players cheering in the stands. I know they don't do that kind of stuff in General Conference, right?
