Please Forgive Me

"I know God will not give me anything I cant handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much."


~ Mother Teresa

UNCLE! A term endearingly used to have my brothers stop beating the tar out of me when we were little and by "beating the tar" out of me I use the term in reference to child's play only. Often the tickling or brow beating would end or Mom would scream "If you are going to fight, take it down stairs so I don't have to hear it!". And thus sibling rivalry would define pecking order and self esteem. Life as the fourth of five kids wasn't easy but it could have been so much worse and for that I am grateful. It was good, in spite of not being perfect.

I ask for patience as I write today. I am in the midst of a pity party due to a severe infection and the passing of kidney stones at the same time. I just got the prescription for antibiotics yesterday and the pain killers are giving me the most awesomest of bizarre nightmares.....can a women really give birth to thousands of babies in a moment, apparently yes in my dreams not to mention scuba diving Siamese cats and bosses who mock from the shoreline.

I had just about had enough this morning, waking up in pain yet again on another Friday off crowded with errands and doctors and all I want to do is just scream and say "Stop the bus, I want to get off". How can I find peace or at least solice for just a moment to recuperate and gain the strength to get back on and continue to ride this incredible journey of mine? What can I do to find tolerance in the intolerable?

Case in point.

Last March we decided to move forward on the cancellation of sealing so W and I can be sealed. We spoke to the Bishop and he gave us some instructions, one of which was to write a letter. Thus the wound was laid open again and the pain resurfaced. The thought process was this, a necessary evil to accomplish a great goal, this would only be temporary. Now 5 months later and two conversations filled with apologies for not doing anything I can't help but feel helpless. I know he's busy; I know I have no right to judge but somehow I feel , I don't know the word, forgotten, trivialized. I thought we would be nearly done by now and yet, as of Sunday, apparently not even started.

Church on Sunday is near impossible. I find myself wondering why the gospel of Jesus Christ is so lost in a church that bears His name. Power struggles and preconceived notions and heartless condemnation is par for the course and yet, within lays a belief that this. for me, is where my truth resides. People in testimony meeting condemning my parenting, stories of grandeur and pecking order mentalities that alienate those who need love the most and I ask why? For that matter, others ask why? Why would you want to be where you are so marginalized, so judged? Why be where you will never measure up?

Work only sees results and even going in when you are so full of pain you can barely stand and feeling helpless in ever finding some measure of respect you persevere because at the end of the day the bills need paid and for you, alone at meeting those bills, losing your job is not an option, not an option at all.

So, as I am overcome with feeling  overwhelmed. I lay in bed this morning wishing away my tragic and turmoil filled life and then I remembered the pain of my mother as she struggled with cancer and the fear of leaving us too soon. I remember that in my pity.... selfish pity.... that the pews at my chapel are filled with many silently suffering greater burdens than mine and as much as I may feel my load is too heavy, at least I can ask for help. Maybe not from home teachers or a Bishop but I have great family and friends and for goodness sake, it is after all, just a pity party.

Pain has a way of taking us to the extremes. In the midst of it we become selfish and once cresting through the painful journey we become reflective. I think I am getting to the reflective part.

Lord, grant me the serenity....