Hailey is in the MTC - she left a week ago. 3 weeks in the MTC and she will be off to the Virginia, Richmond mission for a year and 1/2. It should get easier to say goodbye to your children but it is getting harder. Hailey left for college without a second glance backward. She was ready and excited and full of forward momentum. Then school ended and she came home for about 2 months before going on her mission. The first month home was business as usual - things were the same as they had always been but as her call came and her departure date approached, our time together became greater and longer and more frequent. The last 2 weeks, our time together doubled again and the last week we were practically inseperable. The store, the aquarium, the Minute Clinic to wimp out on getting shots, the doctor to get medical records, the store, the store, the store... Then chatting and packing and packing and folding and sorting endless piles of clothes (I think she may need to be in clothing rehab for her clothing addiction). The time spent together was precious and cemented her in my heart - there was the rub...
Had she gone right from college, it would not have been nearly so hard a separation. It was the time. So much time. Precious time. Could that be the key? Did it really take me 19 years to figure this out? Or did it take 19 years for her to finally want to be with me. Or a mixture of both?
Either way, it did it's magic and she became so dear to me. More so in 2 weeks than in the 2 previous years. Then came the moment for her to leave and the separation was more intense than I could have imagined. I sure love that girl and admire her courage.
The airport was hard but we were all stoic. And off went that little girl of mine. Looking smaller and younger than I had remembered. But so brave. So determined and so strong. I could imagine her at any moment saying, "This is too much mom. This is too hard. I'm going to stay here." But she didn't - she trudged on to the unknown and my heart felt broken.
I'm not one to wallow in sadness so I left the next day for California and spent the next 2 days on the beach... It helped. I'm not going to lie. I felt better and the family and I returned home and picked up where we had left off. Monday, Tuesday... then Wednesday and I got an email from Hailey.
Wow - what power. What strength and testimony. I cried as I read it. The tears were afraid to fall at the airport but not in my playroom at home. I felt so comforted and so much joy as I read her letter. She put into words who she really is and it gave me so much peace and comfort.
How did I get such a great kid and how did I not notice this spiritual powerhouse developing right before my eyes? Oh to be 19 again and in the MTC and having such an experience. I am so excited for her and her future.
Rock on Hailey. I hope you know how dear you are to me.
Me and my man
Thursday, September 29, 2016
Finding another Unicorn
Sometimes I feel like a unicorn. Like I am all alone and that no one else feels like me. Like no one else wants to be like me. Like I really am inside, not who I am as I try to fit in... I am a member of my church and I love the scriptures but no one talks about scriptures with me. It is church and home. And as much as I try to mix them, I feel alone in my efforts. I love the stories and lessons that are found in the scriptures but no one ever brings them up... I love the power of living the gospel of Jesus Christ but no one around me testifies to me or teaches me. Like I should know it all or like there is nothing to know... And I have felt very alone.
I feel like a unicorn. Kind of a freak here in Arizona. I have to admit that I felt much more at home in the south where I am from. There, people talk of Christ casually and often. Maybe too casually sometimes, but I found the frequent reminders comforting and reassuring. In high school, we would meet together as members of FCA (Fellowship of Christian Athletes) and we would pray together as friends and team mates. We would pray for each other and share our faith. We would have bible study and youth groups where we spoke of Christ without embarrassment or awkwardness because it's not Sunday. We listened to Christian music with gusto and sang out our praises at the top of our voices (I can do a mean Amy Grant impression).
Then I got married to my sweetheart and moved west. I thought it was what I wanted, but I lost something. I lost the powerful feeling of testifying. Sure people testify, but it has seemed manufactured and hollow. Like people are afraid to speak of Christ so they testify of just about everything else. I don't know how to explain it but I can go for a month without hearing of Christ and a year without anyone mentioning the gospel outside church.
Teach me! Testify! Let me feel your strength! Let me feel that anyone else feels like me. Give me the pure gospel, straight from the scriptures. Let me know that I'm not crazy and that true is true and good is good and wrong is wrong. Living in a world that is so lukewarm has been killing me. Speak truth to me! And stop making me feel like a freak to be a believer when I am in the middle of believers.
blah blah blah... I had given up. Part of my frustration was being with the little kids at church every week for 7 years. Don't get me wrong, I loved it. Loved the kids and what I taught. We rotate every 4 years so I had taught Old Testament twice, New Testament twice, Book of Mormon twice and modern revelation once. I LOVE teaching from the scriptures! I felt the Spirit when I taught, I felt edified, and I loved my class but 7 years of feeding yourself left me longing to be taught by someone else.
Then I was released and I began to go to Sunday School.
I have an amazing Sunday School teacher. He filled me up each week. He testified. He called good, good and bad, bad. He taught pure doctrine and the Spirit filled up all the emptiness in me week after week. I needed to be taught, I needed to be testified to. I needed to have the fire in me rekindled so I could remember who I really am. Who I was, who I am, who I can be. And I needed to feel like I wasn't alone. Like I am not the only one who feels the way I do. There is someone else out there who sees the world like me. There is someone else fighting what I am fighting.
I felt like I found another unicorn.
I had seriously begun to doubt if there was ANYONE who feels the way I do. And there is! I hung on every word and it felt like home. The Spirit poured thru me during each lesson. I thanked God for him and begged God to give me a year in his class. If I could only learn from him for a year, I would be good. I could fill up my cup enough to face that aloneness again. 6 lessons later, he told us he sold his house and today will be his last day. I cried. Right in the middle of Sunday School. Not because I need HIM but because I need what he did - Speaking of Christ, testifying boldly of truth. I need people to teach me. To fill up my cup. To let me know I am not alone in the battles I am fighting. To give me reassurance that all the struggle is worth it.
It was a hard day. I am still sad. I need that but I am grateful that God at least allowed me to see it. And it fortified me. I can do this. I know I am not alone.
Unicorns exist.
I feel like a unicorn. Kind of a freak here in Arizona. I have to admit that I felt much more at home in the south where I am from. There, people talk of Christ casually and often. Maybe too casually sometimes, but I found the frequent reminders comforting and reassuring. In high school, we would meet together as members of FCA (Fellowship of Christian Athletes) and we would pray together as friends and team mates. We would pray for each other and share our faith. We would have bible study and youth groups where we spoke of Christ without embarrassment or awkwardness because it's not Sunday. We listened to Christian music with gusto and sang out our praises at the top of our voices (I can do a mean Amy Grant impression).
Then I got married to my sweetheart and moved west. I thought it was what I wanted, but I lost something. I lost the powerful feeling of testifying. Sure people testify, but it has seemed manufactured and hollow. Like people are afraid to speak of Christ so they testify of just about everything else. I don't know how to explain it but I can go for a month without hearing of Christ and a year without anyone mentioning the gospel outside church.
Teach me! Testify! Let me feel your strength! Let me feel that anyone else feels like me. Give me the pure gospel, straight from the scriptures. Let me know that I'm not crazy and that true is true and good is good and wrong is wrong. Living in a world that is so lukewarm has been killing me. Speak truth to me! And stop making me feel like a freak to be a believer when I am in the middle of believers.
blah blah blah... I had given up. Part of my frustration was being with the little kids at church every week for 7 years. Don't get me wrong, I loved it. Loved the kids and what I taught. We rotate every 4 years so I had taught Old Testament twice, New Testament twice, Book of Mormon twice and modern revelation once. I LOVE teaching from the scriptures! I felt the Spirit when I taught, I felt edified, and I loved my class but 7 years of feeding yourself left me longing to be taught by someone else.
Then I was released and I began to go to Sunday School.
I have an amazing Sunday School teacher. He filled me up each week. He testified. He called good, good and bad, bad. He taught pure doctrine and the Spirit filled up all the emptiness in me week after week. I needed to be taught, I needed to be testified to. I needed to have the fire in me rekindled so I could remember who I really am. Who I was, who I am, who I can be. And I needed to feel like I wasn't alone. Like I am not the only one who feels the way I do. There is someone else out there who sees the world like me. There is someone else fighting what I am fighting.
I felt like I found another unicorn.
I had seriously begun to doubt if there was ANYONE who feels the way I do. And there is! I hung on every word and it felt like home. The Spirit poured thru me during each lesson. I thanked God for him and begged God to give me a year in his class. If I could only learn from him for a year, I would be good. I could fill up my cup enough to face that aloneness again. 6 lessons later, he told us he sold his house and today will be his last day. I cried. Right in the middle of Sunday School. Not because I need HIM but because I need what he did - Speaking of Christ, testifying boldly of truth. I need people to teach me. To fill up my cup. To let me know I am not alone in the battles I am fighting. To give me reassurance that all the struggle is worth it.
It was a hard day. I am still sad. I need that but I am grateful that God at least allowed me to see it. And it fortified me. I can do this. I know I am not alone.
Unicorns exist.
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