"A Shelter from the Storm"

SUNDAY:
Tears, tremors, cacophony and chaos were the order of the hour, but there was also a sweet distillation of the Spirit, as there always is, because today was our Primary Program. There are almost 200 families in our ward, so many with young children that our adult classes are concentrated, over capacity, with standing room only, so that the primary can fit into the chapel, the only room large enough to contain the separate junior and senior groups before overflowing into every built and partitioned space available in our church building. This morning we filled the permanent chairs on the stand, every miniature chair that could find floor space in front, and then 3 benches back. The primary presidency acted as mobile microphone bearers for the duration, because the children could not get out of there chairs, once everyone was seated, without literally climbing over their peers and teachers. The Bishop remained in his seat throughout, smack dab in the middle of the 15 Sunbeams in attendance today, and looked like he was in heaven. I spent the hour on my knees or the edge of my seat (literally and figuratively) reminding my 6 little girls (from behind) and my lone little boy (from the side) to face forward, keep their hands down, be reverent, stand up, sit down, watch the song leader, smile at their parents, speak their part in unison and SING. My success or failure, in those efforts, depends on your point of view, but when my solitary boy, this morning, (who was off cue and oblivious at every attempt and being entirely puppeteered) finally put his pudgy arm around my neck, and firmly pulled our heads together during the boys verse of a childs prayer, I finally stopped fussing and just let the sweet Spirit of the moment soak in long enough to look out into the audience (because in a headlock there is no other direction to look) =) and see tears streaming down a mothers face and then of course, I couldn't stop them from running down mine. I have 5 more weeks with these little souls and then comes the inevitable time of transition. I have been mourning my loss, but Mikayla keeps reminding me not to think of it as loss, but as an opportunity to love even more children and keep the love of those who will be sitting right behind my chair instead of beside me. Still...hard things.

MONDAY:
Suburban down AGAIN and back into the shop! It feels like mechanic trip 1,044 but I'm Dave Ramsey stubborn and don't want to be in debt for a car and cash to pay in full for a reliable one doesn't seem to be floating by any time soon.

Just trying to keep the tensions of everywhere my family needs to be and everything that I need to be doing balanced. NOT HAPPENING! Behind on budgeting. Behind on bills. Behind on bliss.  Behind on cleaning and cooking and comforting. Family Home Evening is a whirlwind and we do one thing only--a gratitude game--Fred's idea. It feels so good to be reminded of HOW MANY blessings we have--spilling over and overflowing.

TUESDAY:
Another crazy day driving to and fro. Doctor's appointment--last check-up. My doctor says "[I} look so good!"--"[he] can't believe how good [I] look!" He seems so grateful, so happy. Another reminder of blessings I barely recognize. He takes off all restrictions! I can lift and sweep and vacuum! The things we take for granted! I feel blessed...and the tiniest bit of bliss.

By evening, the bliss has flown. No time for dinner.  Fred, Eden, Lily, Sophie and I squeeze into the Geo so Fred and I can pick up the Suburban and pay for repairs (which feel like a small fortune) and finally get Thanksgiving shopping done while the girls split off and head to choir. Ten minutes after parting the phone rings--Eden is crying. She's been in an accident that's not her fault, but it's bad. We are just minutes behind her but when we get there it looks scary. The front and back of the Geo are compressed and the air bags are both deployed. The side of Eden face is already swelling, Lily's neck is hurting. Sophie has a bump on the back of her head, but they are all SAFE!!! Eden holds onto Fred--Lily and Sophie hold onto me and cry. I am so grateful for my children, but the timing sucks the wind out of my already depleted emotional stores. When it rains it pours and our life feels like a constant downpour--are we doing something wrong? I gather my little girls onto my lap and sit in the Suburban with the heater blazing, watching the police and the people and the tow truck. My mind is flitting to all our "hardships" and with each reflection comes the quiet remembrance of the numerous number of umbrella's--"a shelter from the storm" that are constantly and continuously being held over our heads in the deluge. Maybe things are being stripped away to help me to focus on the things that truly matter--things we have in abundance.

WEDNESDAY MORNING:
A good night sleep and I am ready to seize the day!

QUOTE:
“If for a while the harder you try, the harder it gets, take heart. So it has been with the best people who ever lived." --Jeffrey R. Holland