A Tender Mercy for the Sabbath

This week, I have been extremely emotional.  Being my sentimental, sensitive self, I am used to short bouts of deep, weepy emotions, but having it extend for such a long period of time has been...well, it's just been.

I attribute it to a few things.  For a start, it looks like our house may have sold.  We have a contract on it, and a neighborhood friend of mine told me that she ran into the buyers at a party, and they are totally committed to getting the house.  While this should be a reason to rejoice, John and I just feel relief more than anything.  Lots and lots of relief.  And a tinge of sadness because we have lost so much money on something that we poured our hearts and souls into for so many years.  And it almost feels as if the love that has existed in that house has been cheapened or lessened, even though I know it hasn't.  But at the end of the day, it's hard to believe that this trial in our life might be coming to an end.

Which leads me to tears of gratitude.  I went to the temple the other day on a whim and while I usually pray about something that I'm worried about, I couldn't pray for anything about myself until I expressed my gratitude to God.  I know that people told me to take God out of the equation and just see selling the house as a business deal, so maybe the gratitude is more about surviving the trial than attributing it finally selling to God.

And with that, I have realized this week that I have learned so much over these last three years with the advent of deciding to move and the house not selling.  I was listening to 2 Nephi 2 this past week which I normally associate with "opposition in all things" but as I thought about Adam and Eve and what their lives would have been like if they hadn't chosen to partake of the fruit (a life, free of trials, that I sometimes wish I had), I realized that trials are part of the excitement of life.  They give us reason to stretch and grow and learn.  We always learn more about ourselves when we are confronted with trials.

And speaking of trials, I have been confronted with a couple of health problems over the past few weeks.  It appears that there is a resistant strain of yeast which is causing women to not be treatable for yeast infections (gross, I know, but true).  So I've been dealing with that unsuccessfully for almost a month now.  And to add insult to injury, I believe I damaged my neck a few months ago when attempting a yoga move.  I have been unable to sit comfortably or really do anything, and I've tried getting a massage, laying in different positions, everything, but I'm in constant pain which has led to no sleep.

Yep, this past week, I have averaged less than five hours of sleep a night.  My neck hurts so terribly that just as I fall asleep, I wake back up.  It's been horrific.  And I'm dieting.  John and I started Weight Watchers this week, and while we are already losing weight, I'm hungry all of the time.

And I've also been having a crisis about being the parent to grown children.  Some of my children have lashed out at me over the past few weeks about offering advice, or have grown angry with me when talking to me, and it's really caused me to step back and wonder if I need to change who I am.  It's not something that can happen overnight (if I can do it at all), and it's painful for me to be treated poorly in the meantime.

And probably the cherry on top has been the agony I've seen Mark go through as he tries to figure out what is the best course for graduate school.  I've tried to distance myself from what is going on, but it shows in his demeanor that it's weighing heavy on him.

So I woke up this morning, exhausted, and dreading going to church a bit.  A severe ice storm blew through during the night, and the roads and our vehicles were covered in ice.  Plus, going to church is a bit of a crap shoot for me.  I love playing the organ, and I'm grateful for that part-time calling, but I still feel pretty isolated at church despite all of my attempts to reach out to people and to make friends.

So I drove myself home after church, waiting for John to round on his patient at the hospital and come home to have lunch with me.  He called me while driving home and dropped the bomb:  he has received a new calling, and I could tell from his voice, that it wasn't a good thing.

He will be released as the ward mission leader, and he will be called as the Elders' Quorum secretary.

If anyone knows John, you know that organization is his church Achilles heel.  Just trying to do anything on the computer usually results in frustration or failure.  And John, as a physician, functions from one moment to the next, never needing to think several steps ahead or into the future at all.  When we first moved to State College, he was called as the YM secretary, and he hated every minute of it.  And now that he has served in the stake presidency, he knows what it takes to make a really great secretary.

In addition, he has been working with extremely lazy missionaries since he first was called as ward mission leader, but only in the last month were they sent away, and our ward got two amazing missionaries.  They work so hard, and they never give up.  They have had the police called on them, and yet they keep going without fear.  John can feel that they are going to see success, and he wanted to be a part of that.

Plus, it's not right to think this way, but I can't blame him for it and it's just human; he feels like he's being demoted.  I mean, John is a people person.  He loves to teach and speak and work with people one-on-one.  The idea of being stuck behind a computer with paperwork and forms is like a kick in the teeth.

As it turns out, he expressed all of this to the stake president, President Ward, when he called him.  John laid it all out on the line, but of course accepted the calling.  We both believe still that callings come from God.  That us moving here is exactly what was supposed to happen even though my abilities aren't being used at all, and John just feels frustration.

So there I was, having just woken up from a restless, pain-filled hour-long nap, and Mark and Allison walked in. I can't and won't express how I feel about their lives because as I was reminded this week, it's not really my business.  But as a loving mother, it weighs heavy on me.  And there's my sweet honey, trying to ask them how it's going when I know that he himself is struggling through his own personal, emotional hell.

And a truck drives up the driveway.  A big black truck.  I assumed it was someone who thought our driveway was a street, but Daddy gets up to look.  And out of the truck steps President Olsen, one of the counselors in the stake presidency.

Jennifer Olsen was assigned to be my visiting teacher when I moved into the ward.  She's a rather shy person so it took me asking her to come over to visit me.  And we became quick friends.  In fact, we realized that we would like to get together as couples (being about the same age with no more children at home), so we have gone on several double dates with the Olsens.  John has expressed that he feels that President Olsen is his friend already, and perhaps the only friend he has here in Michigan so far.  He asks for advice from John as a former stake presidency member, and with them both being musicians, I feel a close affinity for both of them.

But beyond that, President Olsen is so special.  He's just a kind, loving, caring man who has one of those tender hearts like us Kennedys.  He doesn't see us as intimidating, or annoying, or too old or too young--he just appreciates that we want to do things with them, and he was almost beside himself when John was assigned as the Olsens' home teacher.

So needless to say, we were happy to see him (and I thankfully feel no anxiety around the Olsens so it was no problem that he showed up unexpectedly).  He came in and asked if he could talk to John about his new calling.  So, he sat down in our living room, with all of us still there, and shared the story of how John's new calling came about.

With the new idea of "ministering" to others (versus having home and visiting teachers), the stake presidency spent a long nine hours one Saturday, meeting with all of the bishoprics in the stake, helping them figure out how to create new Elders' Quorum presidencies that would best serve the entire ward.  From what President Olsen said, it sounded like the stake presidency chose the new presidencies themselves, going on the idea that a young person would be called as president with the guidance of a high priest as a counselor.

When the stake presidency came to our ward, they chose three elders for the president and two counselors, but when they came to the secretary, President Olsen and President Sangster both looked at each other and said together, "John Kennedy".  There was no discussion about anyone else.  They both knew it had to be him.

And the best part was that President Olsen told us why.  When they thought of the high priest in our ward who had the most experience, who was the most humble, and who could connect with people the best, they could think of no one else but John.

And all those pesky chores that involve spreadsheets and note taking?  President Olsen told John to call an assistant and leave that all up to him.  But John was put into the presidency to teach the younger generation how to lead and how to take care of the families in the ward.

I must admit that as I looked at John sitting next to President Olsen on the couch, he looked so small.  He looked like a very young son of God, listening to the voice of his Father telling him that it was going to be okay. I could tell that at some point that day, the Holy Ghost whispered to President Olsen that John needed to know these things.  That without them, John would have questioned his calling probably until his future release date.

And as if that wasn't enough, President Olsen then asked if he could give John a blessing.

Oh my gosh, the spirit in the room felt as strong to me as the spirit when my kids received their patriarchal blessings.  It was as if the Spirit couldn't be restrained.  And while President Olsen blessed John for what he will need in his calling, the most touching moment was unexpected.  President Olsen, in the blessing, said that he felt the need to tell John that if he would fulfill this calling to the best of his ability, and that if he would make this calling the priority over all other things in his life at this time, his wishes for his spiritual future would come to pass.  That no blessing would be withheld from him.

And once again, the Lord didn't forget John.  He has done everything that has ever been asked of him in the church, sometimes when he doesn't seem to have time in his schedule, or when the calling doesn't seem right.  He never says no.  He never complains.  But he always wonders if the Lord really notices him.  He wonders if he's doing all that he should be doing in the Lord's eyes.  But without President Olsen knowing that John struggles with these feelings of spiritual insecurity, the Lord worked through the Spirit and through President Olsen to let John know that his Father in Heaven loves him.

And after the blessing, I was so thankful that President Olsen listened to that prompting.  John craves having a father who could give him a blessing of comfort when it is needed.  And in that moment, President Olsen was the father John never had.  It was so beautiful.

I feel like when I die, I will look back at my life and recognize that my life was just one big tender mercy.  That the Lord never forgot me, but instead gave me more blessings than I could even recognize.  How thankful I am for today's Sabbath tender mercy.