The Sunday before I turned thirty I got called into my Stake President’s office at church. To us Mormons a Stake President is somewhere between a Pastor and the Pope. Having a meeting with him means one of two things:

• They know about your underage p*rn collection

• They know about your meth addiction

• They want to give you an big assignment (which we refer to as a “calling”)

Since I was pretty sure nobody had found my secret p*rn collection and I’m not addicted to meth, I knew some type of calling was coming my way.

Gulp.

So it’s like this; while most churches have a paid clergy, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (the Mormons) isn’t one of them. We are run, on all levels, solely based on the members collectively donating their time (and 10% of their income). I often marveled at how awesome this plan is. Not only does this enable all members of the Mormon Church to do service, it also enables the church to run smoothly (and cost effectively).

This also means that we all have to pull our own weight. This can be over-whelming at times. Thankfully no calling (outside of the Prophet and Apostles) is a permanent calling. They traditionally last about five years. Some shorter, but not typically longer than that.

Five years is pretty do-able, I figure.

So that Sunday before I turned thirty I was called to be the Stake Primary President. I realize the Mormons have our own language and hearing “Stake” in a sentence probably only makes the rest of you think of meat. But to the Mormons “Stake” means something else. A Stake is a collective group of different congregations (or “Wards”). The Seattle Stake, which we belong to, consists of ten different congregations. That’s a lot of meat people and spans most of the Seattle area. The “Primary” is what we call the organization for children between the ages of eighteen months and twelve years.

Being the Stake Primary President meant that I (ME!) was essentially over all of the children in the Seattle Stake. Not really over the kids per say. Mostly I was the manager of the other people who were called to teach the children. I was like their Regional Manager.

Beings as I was the Regional Manager, I had assistants, or rather counselors. I was able to chose who I wanted to be my counselors. I got two of them. And a secretary. That’s right, I HAVE MY OWN SECRETARY. She picks up my dry cleaning and runs my appointment book. (Okay, she doesn’t do that. But I wish she did.)

Traditionally the calling of Stake Primary President is reserved for old ladies with a million kids. At this point in my life I was still in my twenties (technically) and had yet to produce an heir. I had no children and yet I was in charge of all of the children?

Go figure.

Of course I accepted the calling. You always accept your calling. (Except that one time my mom was called to play the piano in church. She has never taken a day of piano lessons, so she was pretty sure that calling was a misunderstanding.)

For the last few years I’ve been graciously performing my duties. My duties have included conducting trainings, visiting other congregations, having meetings, making more visits and having more meetings. I’ve spent many Sunday’s away from my own family on speaking engagements. During this time I’ve grown very fond of my two counselors, who are much older then I am, and the other people I’ve been blessed to work with.

I’ve also become busier then I care to admit.

That isn’t true. I’ve admitted.

More then once I’ve hinted to The Powers That Be that I wouldn’t mind being released from my calling. I’ve presented the facts. And yet, the Lord wasn’t ready for me to be released. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew in my heart it wasn’t time for me to be released and I’ve forged forward.

On Tuesday I got an e-mail from the Stake President’s assistant. The Stake President wanted to meet with The King and I (and Babboo) on Thursday night. The King was sure this meeting was to release me from my calling. I wasn’t so sure. I feared thought it was to ask me to take on some more responsibilities.

We went to the meeting last night and as soon as we sat down in his spacious office the Stake President turned to me and informed me that it was time for me to be released from my calling. I had done my service and it was time to give that opportunity to someone else.

I tried hard not to, but I smiled. My time was up. I knew it. I was okay with it.

Today I am no longer the Seattle Stake Primary President.

I am thankful for my time with this calling. I was able to work with some amazing people. I learned so much about myself and my limitations. I also learned about my strengths. I enjoyed meeting new people friends. I also enjoyed the opportunities I had to speak in the different congregations. (I know most people hate to speak in front of people. I am not one of those people.)

Today I am calling-free. Something that hasn’t happened so much in my years as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I’m betting I’ll get my next calling this coming Sunday.

But for now I’m enjoying the feeling of no responsibilities.

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I know what my outfits looks like today. Thanks to my latest NewThing. I know you want to read all about it, right?