Not bad, just hard.

Woman Praying Vincent Van Gough 1883
It started out simply lovely, Sunday morning.  There was a gorgeous drizzle but the house was warm, and the kids were all happy.  I sat with Faye, playing with her hair while she and Beth ate monster cereal out of the box, scattering it all over my floor and then walking on it.  But I didn't care about that.  Quite frankly, it made me laugh.

And then my phone rang.  

And chaos ensued.  

One of my primary teachers was sick and was letting me know that she wasn't able to get a sub.  She could barely talk, and my throat ached for hers as I listened to the scratchiness on the other end.  I assured her we would find someone to take her class and thanked her for calling and letting me know, rather than just not showing up as some teachers do.

Thinking there would be no problem, I called the helper for that class.  She had had a baby about 2 months prior and had not yet been to church, but had assured me she would be there that week.  I called her to see if she would be there and if she could possibly throw a lesson together last minute. She didn't answer, so I left her a message and set about looking for someone else as we are supposed to have two teachers for each class.

As I was busily calling around to find a sub, I got a text from a sub for one of the other classes who told me that she had a very sore throat and had been up all night and so couldn't make it either.  And yet another teacher let me know that she wasn't going to be there either (she had a 2 week old baby so was excused).  My first counselor, I knew wouldn't be there either as she also had a newborn.  My second counselor texted me to tell me she had a migraine and wouldn't be able to make it either.  That left my third counselor, my secretary and me to pull things off, but I wasn't too worried because the missionaries were going to teach sharing time, so I could help out with whatever.

I called like crazy and eventually, after no one answered their phones, or told me they couldn't sub, it was decided my secretary and her husband would teach one class.  I was still crossing my fingers for the teacher helper to be able to show up and help us out there.

She called me around 10 (church starts at 11, keep that in mind) to let me know that she wouldn't be coming to church, her baby was just diagnosed with cystic fibrosis and so doctor's orders were that the baby stay home for a year so as not to die.  Scary stuff!  I talked with her about possibly releasing her if that would help her, and she said she would think about it and get back with me.  My heart just breaks for her!

By this time, I was a little panicky, but knew we could figure something out.  I decided to start getting myself ready for church.

At 10:30 I got a text from the missionaries saying they were both sick and wouldn't be able to come teach sharing time.

I fell onto my bed laughing to the point of tears streaming from my eyes.  I am not sure if I was actually laughing or if it was a covert way to cry.  Wow.  What a morning!  I frantically threw some things together to prepare a sharing time about the ripples we create in our lives, and through our actions we can fill up those empty chairs that are drowning out our primary (60% inactivity, people). I texted the Elders to ask if there was anything they needed as I remember how lousy it is to be sick on your mission.  They requested soup.  I told them I would make some and get it to them after church.

Half way through primary one of my best teachers told me she had just spoken with the bishopric about being released.  And then I remembered my visiting teachers were coming over right after church.

So, with nearly all of my inner strength tested, we took the kids to sacrament (my ward has that last), and then rushed home to clean.  Because I had to clean up the mess I had made that morning by neglecting my kid in an effort to find subs, and let me tell you, they took advantage of my absence! The house got cleaned, my visiting teachers helped me make the soup, we visited, and then I delivered the soup.

It was a very hard day, but not a bad day.  Just hard.

I look back at that day and really just have to smile.  I wonder if sometimes things like that happen for us to be able to look back on with amusement and just laugh.  I mean, really, could anything else have gone wrong?  Probably.  I am so grateful it didn't though, and I am so relieved to see the very obvious hand of the Lord in that day, supporting me, helping me to not choke and run away to hide. In General Conference this weekend there was a talk given by Cheryl A. Esplin which really hit me. In essence she talked about Christ's enabling power, how part of the atonement is looking and seeing how the Savior carried you. Last Sunday was absolutely one of those times I was helped to serve beyond my capacity!  I honestly couldn't have done it without His help, because seriously, everything seemed to fall apart all at the same time.  What a blessing it is to have an understanding albeit small, of the atonement of Jesus Christ!  What a blessing it is to be able to see it at work in my life! To have been carried through that whole day, I truly couldn't have done it all without help, and how grateful I am for all the help I received, and do receive daily.

For a morning that began so calmly, it sure morphed into the Hulk quickly!

I look forward to the day when my Sundays can be a day of rest again. But I wouldn't trade the things I learned for anything!


Susan Anderson said…
That sounds a bit like the Sunday from you know where! And you sound a bit like Wonder Woman.

In all seriousness, though, I agree with what you said about Christ's enabling power. Sometimes it's very clear that there's no way we accomplished everything we did by ourselves!

Great post.


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