God is in the Details

Have I titled a post the same as this one? Maybe.  It seems to be a recurring theme in my life.

It may be evident from the lack of posts since the summer began, but I have been drowning under the responsibilities of life.  And under health problems.  And what are probably too many callings.  I have tried to reach out to some people for help, but I find it's mostly something I must shoulder alone.  If I'm being honest, I have reached out to John multiple times, but it's just not in his emotional DNA to understand what is happening.

I came out of the summer, reeling from too much to do.  Driving to Alabama one day, driving to Utah the next.  Hosting multiple pool parties for the youth and the YSAs.  Supporting Glo at Interlochen and helping Hannah prepare for PA school.  That kind of thing.  I think it all might have been manageable if I wasn't still struggling from long COVID, but living at 75% most days and then getting taken down to 50% after COVID, it's been difficult.

When the summer ended, I tried to advocate for myself with John, telling him that I needed a break.  Like, I felt like I might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown if I couldn't refresh somehow.  But in the midst of that, the doctors discovered a massive sinus infection (thanks again, COVID), and I hurt my back.  AND another party was planned at my house.  By the middle of October, my pulse and blood pressure were running super high, and my anxiety was through the roof.  Again, I was hoping that John would speak up for me (at least in our YSA calling), but if nothing else, John loves to host a party at our house.  Nothing was going to change.

I think Heavenly Father knew, however, that the challenges being presented were just too much.  As we always hear, he won't give us more than we can handle, and I think he knew that I had too much on my plate.  With John not listening, God stepped in.

Two days before the party, and five days before we were supposed to leave for Grand Cayman, John tested positive for COVID.  This meant the party was moved to a church building, and our trip was probably going to be canceled.  The relief was HUGE.  I don't even know how to express in writing how thankful I was.  When the YSA calling was first extended to us, I told the stake presidency member that I wouldn't accept it if I was expected to be a party planner....and yet here I was, hosting a party.  I knew at the outset that planning parties would put me over the top in a big way, especially in a place where I don't know many people.  But I couldn't get out of it.  I was literally locked into doing something that I hate doing, all under the guise of duty to my calling.

Then on Monday, the day before we were supposed to leave for Grand Cayman, John tested again, and he was still positive.  We had decided that if he tested positive, we would not go on our trip, but for six hours, John was calling doctors, trying to find a loophole that would allow us to go.  In all of this, I wish he would've just stepped back and thought about me and what I needed, or possibly been sensitive to the whisperings of the spirit, but it was all about him missing out on the fun.

It was Tuesday morning, when we didn't leave for Cayman, that I knew I had a rare opportunity to do something for myself.  My temple shifts were covered as was my organ calling, and I had no appointments scheduled.  Baby's birthday was on Thursday, and I knew I wanted to go.  I've said through the years that if my grandchildren live close, I will go to anything and everything they have going on.  Again, if John tested negative, he could come as well.

But I knew I could do more than just a day in Dayton.  

The previous weekend, Glo's second favorite mission companion, Hermana Gibson, posted that her mother had passed away from breast cancer.  Without prompting from me, Glo reached out to her and asked her if she could do anything, even play a musical number for the funeral.  Hermana Gibson said "yes" and asked her to play "I Heard Him Come".  Glo reached out to several different accompanists, violinists, and vocalists to see if she could get anyone to make the drive up to Layton with her and perform, but she had no luck.

And I think that was on purpose.

When my plans all canceled, I knew that I needed to head out to Utah.  I worried though that the airline ticket would be through the roof.

Little did I remember that I had an eCredit on Delta which paid for the entire flight.

And how surprised I was to see that a rental car for four days was only $100.

And every night in a hotel was paid for with reward points.

It was the easiest trip I've ever planned, and there was no coincidence in all that.  

So, Thursday night I drove home from Dayton, packed my bags, and hopped on a flight in the morning.  I was thrilled to see Amber and Cannon Barney waiting at the gate, also flying out for the weekend.  I mean, if I had to see anyone, Amber would be one of my favorite people.  And when she had to go to the counter to get her seat assignment, I talked with Cannon about going back on his mission....something I would never have had the chance to do otherwise.

What a tender mercy too to end up in Utah in October.  I'm so used to being there in the summer in the inescapable heat of the desert that it was a relief to feel cool.  As I flew in, I could hardly believe the snow on the mountains.  It was really beautiful.

I drove to JCWs for a hamburger that I knew Glo would never want and then checked into my hotel room, changed my clothes and headed to the Provo City Center Temple.  Between the Detroit Temple being closed for a couple of weeks, and me missing a week of working there for health reasons, it had been too long since I'd walked through any temple doors.

I have several thoughts from that visit:

• There were too many YSA women working in the temple and being there as patrons.  My heart went out to all of them.  Good, righteous girls who no men want.  It's just not fair.
• I am the best version of myself in the temple.  All the shackles of insecurity and fear and worry leave me when I walk through the doors, and I'm pretty happy with who I am.
• Ever since my blessing from President Lund in the Detroit Temple, I have felt a closeness to my deceased family members, or maybe it's that the veil is thinner.  At times, it feels as if they are right there, or thoughts of them come into my mind and bring me a crazy shot of joy.  It happened again in this temple, and it pushes me to imagine what I will feel when I see them all again.

Anyway, when my endowment session ended, I booked it out of there, because Glo, Gordon and I had an appointment at the Provo Temple to do baptisms.  I sent Glo with a stack of baptisms at the beginning of the semester, but she just hasn't had time.  Plus, it's not as fun to do baptisms alone versus doing an endowment alone.  So she found the only two spots open for baptisms amongst three different temples and signed up.

I hadn't seen Glo yet, so it was more than difficult to stay reverent in the baptistry.  In fact, I'll just own it--between the three of us, we weren't reverent at all.  But I loved it.  As Glo says, she feels "giddy" in any baptistry, and I imagine it's the happiness of the family members who are being baptized seeping through the veil.

Oh, and I met Gordon for the first time as well.  He's a super nice guy, and he adores Glo.  Like, he would lay down his life for her, no doubt.

Watching them in the font together though--that's what life is really about.  Glo had pulled up her hair into a ponytail which she never does, and she looked so fresh and young and cute.  And it's nice seeing Glo dating someone who is actually taller than she is.  He looked like a man, and after baptizing her for the allotted five names (we slipped two more in for a total of seven), he put his arm around her.  It was a very tender, very pure moment.

Then, when we went into confirmations, Gordon was the only Melchizedek priesthood holder, and he just took control.  I feel like it should be a given that every YSA man is a worthy priesthood holder, but I've discovered that is not the case.  It's a relief to see my girl with a man who is.

After that, Glo wanted to drop off Gordon at home, but I figured he might enjoy hearing Glo play violin while rehearsing for the funeral the next day.  He was happy to come along.  In fact, I think he's happy anytime he's with Glo.  It was a standard Kennedy rehearsal--Glo playing great, and me nit-picking some tiny detail.  And lots of talking.  And laughing.  There aren't many things I do that feel more joyful than playing music with my children.  At one point, I looked over, and Gordon was sitting at a desk-chair, looking at his phone, and I apologized for bringing him along.  He simply said, "I am loving every minute of this."

When we were about done, I asked Gordon if he played piano.  This is a standard question to ask anyone because chances are, the person being asked has had piano lessons at some point in their lives.  He told me that he'd never had lessons, but he could play a few hymns which he taught himself.  Bring it.  Sure enough, he could slog his way through a hymn with far more confidence than I would've imagined.  I then offered to play the bass line and Glo started playing the harmony on the violin.  Music+kids=JOY!

We walked back to our cars, and I handed over three of John's 80s rock 'n roll t-shirts and a denim jacket to Gordon for Halloween (their DND group was doing a one shot 80s slasher session, and John and I just happened to still have clothes from the 80s).  That night, Glo and I watched TV and talked and talked...which we shouldn't have done because we had an early morning.

I had bought Glo a new black dress after she told me that she still wears her concert blacks anytime she performs (we bought them for her in high school), and I ordered three pairs of black shoes for her to choose from.  We woke up Saturday morning, got dressed, and headed out.  As we were making the hour drive, Glo and I started talking about funerals in general.  Glo has never been to a funeral, and I warned her that they can be very emotional, even when you aren't directly connected to the deceased person.  We also tried to decide if Glo should sing the song, or play it on her violin.  She felt like singing would be the best option, even though she isn't a professional singer.

When we pulled into the parking lot of the chapel, Glo unexpectedly broke down.  Like, tears running down her face.  When I asked her what was wrong, she said to me, "Mommy, it's so unfair.  How can I go in to Hermana Gibson's mom's funeral when I am here with my own mom?"  It was in that moment that I knew she wasn't going to be able to sing a song without the professional experience behind her, and we high-tailed it into a room to make sure she could make the page turns while playing Sven.

Glo's water works didn't stop, and I don't blame her at all.  I was crying as well.  It's a tragedy, seeing a 50-year-old woman who still has children at home, in a casket.  With no husband, what was going to become of those children, and how CAN it be fair?  We were the only people on the program who didn't know her or really have any connection to Trellis (the name of the mom), and with Glo deciding last minute not to sing, I said a prayer to know what to do.  I had the thought that I would just introduce us and give a short explanation of the song.  When it was our turn, we set up our instruments, went and stood at the podium, and this is the gist of what I said:

We are the Kennedys, and while we didn't know Trellis personally, we know and love her daughter, Hermana Gibson (or as you all know her as Lauren).  Trellis and I shared a moment in time when both of our daughters were on a mission together, and we missed them like crazy.  I can imagine, however, that I know her through the actions and love of her daughter towards my own as a dear mission companion.  We were asked today to perform "I Heard Him Come", and while Glo was planning on singing it, emotions are near the surface and very tender, so we'll be performing it in a way familiar to Hermana Gibson.

I then read the words to "I Heard Him Come", and Glo and I performed the song with her on violin and me on piano.  It was probably THE most musical I've ever heard Glo play, as she resisted being super technical, or letting her nerves get the best of her.  She just sank into the music, and the spirit was there.  But as she said after we left, she wouldn't have wanted to be there alone, or with some stranger--I could be there to help her process her grief.

When Hermana Gibson got up to speak near the end, she wanted to talk about the song.  Years ago, before receiving any kind of cancer diagnosis, Trellis had told Hermana that she wanted "I Heard Him Come" sung at her funeral.  Remembering this just days before Trellis died, Hermana asked her mom the name of the song again.  Her mom was in and out, because of the pain medication, but she began singing it, and that's when Hermana remembered what it was.

I feel incredibly thankful for the opportunities the kids and I have had through the years to be part of some very touching moments because of our musical abilities.  When I think of the parable of the talents, I think my children fall in the five talents category.  They have spent so many years honing a craft, and they share it freely and with so much love.  As Glo said, "Thank goodness for the spirit" when she thought of offering to play without a second thought.

Needless to say, by the time we drove back home, we were exhausted emotionally.  Physically too.  Glo slept the entire way back.  At this point, I knew she needed a distraction from the sadness, and thankfully she had a date set up with Gordon.  But I left her sleeping in her apartment while I ran a few errands and picked him up (he doesn't have a car).  I had the chance to talk to him a little bit alone which was nice.  Have I mentioned that he's a really terrific kids? So while they went to a corn maze (and laughed and had a great time), I sat in the parking lot of Starbucks where I could mooch their Wifi and watch the Michigan/Michigan State game.  Glo came back rejuvenated, and I was so thankful for the tender mercy of a date and a boy.

That night, Glo and I drove to Moab, and we talked the entire time, mostly about Gordon but also about boys and dating in general.  Glo is a deep, complicated person, and she needs a boy who understands that.

The next morning, we got up bright and early and headed to church in Moab.  It was the Primary program which made Glo SO happy! We were singing right along with the little kids ;-)  We left after sacrament, went back to the hotel to change our clothes, and headed out to Arches.

We've been to Arches too many times to count, but it's just our happy place.  Glo hardly needs to direct us using a map even.  We didn't hike a ton--my lungs aren't healthy at the moment--but we relished the blue sky, the fresh air, the red rock, and just being together.  It was the break that we both needed.  

  

Glo hiked this one alone

Of course, it wasn't a trip to Moab without a stop at the Quesadilla Mobilla, undoubtedly the best quesadillas I have ever tasted (my own homemade ones included).

  

We drove back because Glo had offered for me to take any of her friends out to dinner, but not surprisingly Gordon was the only one to accept ;-) Glo chose Olive Garden, but more than eating, we just talked and talked and talked some more.  And then we went back to her apartment to play Nova Luna and Boggle (I won both, for the record).  Gordon hadn't played either, but he was totally good with learning new games.  In fact, he's kind of good with anything.  And after that, I left to drive up to SLC to catch my flight first thing in the morning.

God is in the details.  There were so many reasons I needed to stay home from diving, and I needed to be with Glo.  I needed to help her process her first funeral, she needed to get away from "happy valley", and she needed me to ask Gordon some tough questions.  I'm so thankful that Heavenly Father made it all happen in a way that only he can.