I don't have the heart to backpedal--so I won't...much. Alright, maybe I have to, just a bit.
Thanksgiving was beautiful. Lots of extended family and uncharacteristically warm sunshine at the ranch. Fred and I and some of the little girls stayed at the cabin which was amazingly cozy and relaxing when chaos and mayhem were reigning at the big house. My parents have been blessed with open space and beauty and because of them, so are we.
December was crazy and consuming and stressful and on the heels of surgery, it all added up to losing 10 pounds, but the week that Jordan and Katie came home, making our family complete, was heaven on earth. With 9 people in 1500 square feet, with the added space takers of 10 enormous bins of Christmas decorations, you can't help but feel "cozy". Aaah, but we love each other! We get so many things wrong in our family, but that is one thing we have gotten right. We just really, really like each other. I was reminded of that just yesterday, when Lily and Sophie went bursting out the front door to meet Abrahm's bus. It is a daily ritual. Sometimes they meet him with milk and cookies, sometimes a treat they have saved from school, and sometimes it is just them, jumping into his arms, with all of his friends watching on. He's 13 and he doesn't seem to mind a bit. Every day, he walks in the door trying to balance his backpack and both 9 year old, giggling girls. That makes my heart happy.
I am being stretched...again...always. The week before Christmas, with only two weeks left in the year, with my little Sunbeams, my Bishop called me in and asked if I would be willing to serve in the R.S. presidency that was being newly formed. With only two weeks left! Would I be willing? Well, "willing" is a multi-faceted word, but I have been taught to "accept" ALL callings in the church and the willing part seems to eventually, but consistently catch up with me. But, I asked if I could at least have one more Sunday with my Sunbeams--you know, closure and stability and all of those good things. He said, he couldn't promise me that. And I cried. I was still crying when I walked out of his office and past dozens of people waiting in the hall. That's not at all awkward! Bishop thought I was crying because I was overwhelmed, and I guess in a way I was, but not in the way he thought. I just don't especially like women that much. Don't get me wrong--I know some saintly women--beloved friends who are the earth and sky to me--but as a non-individual, stereotypical group, I am intimidated. Give me distracted 4 year olds, squirming in--and out--of their clothing, and climbing in window wells all day, but in front of a classroom of attentive ladies...with expectations, well I was thinking I might as well take an immediate flying leap, from my easily acquired Sunbeam pedestal, because I will be shaken down, Humpty Dumpty style, within minutes in that environment.
The following Sunday, I had prepared, (I thought) for both circumstances. Either teaching Sunbeams or being in R.S. Jordan and Katie were my backup plan. They called the new presidency and then I waited...but there wasn't a release. So, you can guess where my loyalties fell. Ironically, the entire presidency was taken from the primary, and that is where all of their hearts were leaning as well. I told the R.S. president my dilemma, but she asked if I could please support her the last hour. I had promised to sustain her, so I decided I would be with my Sunbeams the first hour, then have Jordan and Katie take over the second hour, but by class time one of my little girls had other ideas. I tried bribing and every other unwise tactic, but she was clinging and crying and I didn't have the heart to walk away, so I picked her up in my arms, left Jordan and Katie in charge with the promise that I would be right back and ran down the hall, late, to the Relief Society room. The new president was already conducting as I quickly walked up to the front, completely disrupting the class, with a whimpering Sunbeam in tow. Like I said--2.5 seconds--pedestal toppled. I stayed for 10 minutes, just until the time was turned over to the teacher and then I fled, and went back to my classroom--for the last time.
Our first presidency meeting, I found out that a sister had already been offended by an oversight stemming from our cluelessness in a large ward, and just coming out of primary. I sat, figuratively slack-jawed the entire hour. Definitely not in Kansas anymore.
Last Sunday I had to conduct. I stood up, looked out over the sea of fragile, vulnerable, indomitable sisters and felt this incredible meekness--like the bank had just handed me the key to someone's house and asked me to go and welcome them home, because after all it is actually bank owned. Not cool!
And yet, I already feel this love for a president, a counselor and a secretary, all of whom I barely know, and I am sure will feel a love for the sisters that I sincerely serve. There are stake assurances that ward changes are coming quickly, so who knows if this calling will even be in force longer than months. But one thing does make it easier. Before I left his office, my Bishop left me with a piece of advice. "Just think of the sisters as Sunbeams, just older. I can do that, but it is easier when you are cherished, without question.
Jordan and Katie are back in Rexburg. Katie's taking her nursing classes and Jordan is looking for a job so he can afford to take more classes and support a family. We dropped Mikayla off last Friday and cried in the roundabout just outside her apartment. Our oldest children are 20 and 22 and it doesn't get easier. I was talking to Lily and Sophie's 4th grade teacher, who is at least 20 years older than me, and she said it NEVER gets easier. I know lots of mothers who would disagree, but despite the reputation that apparently precedes me, wherever I go, I guess I am compelled to be a fragile thing.
So, now a new year is here. I am feeling physically better. Mikayla is feeling emotionally better, and this week I "took down Christmas", so the house if feeling briefly roomy. With everyone back in school, the house is comparatively clean and my budget is updated. I finally finished painting my kitchen cupboards and they are waiting for the weekend and Fred, for hanging. I cleaned half of the garage, a significant feat, just so I could get to the other side, and organized my bookshelves with a worrisome, Type A precision. But, there is this nagging, sinking feeling, that keeps resurfacing, reminding me that I have a luncheon and an open house to plan for in 3 months and I can't make it work in my head, without panicking, so I keep running from the inevitable by procrastinating. How very mature of me. Who voted for me to be the mom!? If terminations came with the territory, I would have been fired years ago. But, it is, once again, date night, a weekly occurance where Fred patiently tries to pick up my pieces and put me back together again. I am an odd assortment of super glue, duct tape and good ol' JB weld. He is a persistent man.
