Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Writing



span style="font-weight:bold;">Angels in Your Time of Need

It was the day I looked up at the beam in my basement and the thought "that would hold my weight" sprinted across my mind. I buried my head in my pillow, covered it with a blanket and sobbed. I sobbed because I had thought it and I sobbed because I wanted it. I could hear my 7 week old through two sets of stairs - a duet of hysterical crying. It took over an hour before we had both calmed down and I could go back to my room and pick him up from the 'safe place to cry'. His back was drenched with sweat and I was drenched with guilt.

It was that day that you called telling me you were praying for me and felt that you needed to share 2 Nephi 4:34-35. That answer to your prayer was an answer to mine. I spent the evening soaking in the tub, memorizing the words while you rocked, shushed, and paced. I let the powerful words melt into me and fortify me giving me a hope that over the past few weeks had been foreign. For the first time in weeks I felt that with the Lord anything was possible and with trust I could overcome my pain.

Then you came over and respected my need to hide my tears and pretend like things weren't bad. I don't think I fooled you. Instead of calling me out you took care of things while I took a nap I obviously so desperately needed. You did not know what was going on in my mind but you saved me anyway.

The day after you brought over healthy, chocolate haystack treats. Another deposit in your already large account of good deeds. They went well with the random offer to bring over dinner. You spontaneously called me and asked if I could use another meal. I had lost count by now but I had no shame and accepted, feeling grateful for a good friend.

And now, years later, when frightening, hopeless thoughts have been replaced with joyful, hopeful thoughts, I can see more clearly the time of my need and the way you, all of you, fulfilled a promise made to me that God would provide angels in my time of need. And thanks to you, I know now, what I had only frantically hoped for then, is that God keeps His word.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Independent Thought is Overrated



By 10am this morning I had been yelled at by Milo and hit with a plastic saw. After much negotiation (my part) and sobbing (his part) I managed to finally clean his poopy diaper.

There were tears about what to wear, what show to watch, what time to leave the house and no matter what I did I was unable to make him feel better.

Frustrating indeed.

And coming off a night that held the longest stretch of sleep at 4 hours I find that my capacity to deal with tantrums and different opinions is at a minimum.

Why can't he just do what I want all of the time?

It'd be so much easier if I'd given birth to a robot.

Well, maybe not the birth, but you know what I mean.