Tuesday

I found this moth on my run yesterday. Moths in our town are generally shorter than 2 inches, and a general nuisance. It's odd to find one this large. It was obviously dying, lying on it's side in a driveway. I brought it home, put it on a paper plate and let the kids admire it. The moth would move if disturbed, but showed no desire to let go of the stick or fly. Adam wanted to feed it. I told him that the life-cycle of a moth ended after it had laid its eggs, and that this one was most likely dying. He sat by the moth most of the day, reading a book, eating his lunch, watching it. When he awoke this morning, the moth was dead, still in the same position, still clutching the twig. Adam was in tears. He said the moth was too beautiful to die. He was sad.

All this took place around 5:30 a.m. I hugged Adam and sent him back to bed, thinking sleep would help him be a little more rational. Then I did my morning devotional, took a short run, and came home to find Adam eating breakfast with the dead moth. Darrin looked at me helplessly, then went to work. I decided to let Adam be, and went to take a shower.

Eventually, Adam left the insect corpse to play computer games. I taught piano lessons until 2:00, worked on my workshop for Youth Conference, then took the kids to the Dollar Store where I bought some fun things for the workshop.

We came home to make dinner. Adam folded laundry, DJ set the table, and Tabitha and I made fresh tomato sauce for pasta. Darrin got home in time to help with dinner, which is rare lately. We ate together, then Darrin and I left for our class--which was really great tonight. We got home around 9:30, put the kids to bed, then had our weekly "accounting", which is when we talk about everything that's going on inside and outside of us. Darrin's doing fine--that was his account...but spent some time talking about some difficulties he's having as bishop--especially when it comes to delegation. That doesn't surprise me. He's always had a problem with that. Work is going well, but he's still putting in more hours than he should be. He thinks that will get better in the next couple of weeks.

Then it was my turn. Most of the time I don't have lots to say--just more of the same old stuff...emotional wreck, confusion, anxiety...Tonight, however, I reported a major change. Somehow, when I told David all that was causing me stress in our friendship, all the anxiety left. There is peace now. It took about a week for everything to resolve itself, and I think it was helpful to meet with David on Friday, as well. But amazingly, I've had the experience of cleansing tears, and acceptance of love. In my life, I don't ever remember crying leaving me with a feeling of peace. That has happened more than once in the last two days. And there have only been three people in my life whose love I trusted--my grandmother, my youngest sister, and my husband. After meeting with David on Friday, I realized that all my fears about people saying they loved me, but me not accepting that or believing that, were fallacious. It's possible for me to be loved. Somehow, this week I came to believe that two more people love me--my father, and David. Why those two? I have no idea. But the belief in their love brings more peace--unfortunately for me, it also brings more tears. I can't seem to stop weeping about it. But Darrin assures me that in this case, it's good for me to cry.

A long time ago, in December 2005, I finished reading the Book of Mormon, as challenged by our prophet. I have finished that book so many times that I stopped counting long ago. But everytime I finish, just as Moroni suggests, I ask God for a confirmation that it's true. This time, I asked for that confirmation in a prayer in which I had confessed to the Lord that I was afraid to help my young friend, David. I was afraid, in order to be of support to him, I might have to look at who I really was. I was afraid I would have to love him. I was just plain afraid. I sat on my bed after kneeling in prayer and the most amazing feeling came over me. I KNEW that I was loved by my Heavenly Father. I KNEW He would help me in whatever was asked of me. I KNEW I was going to have to love David--unconditionally--no strings attached...for me, that would be very difficult. As I was thinking about all this, I saw my young friend's face in my mind's eye, and I truly did feel love for him. But then that love seemed to grow larger, so huge that I couldn't contain the feelings inside me. Tears came unbidden, and still the feelings of love grew. I didn't know I was capable of feeling such amazing love for anyone--and then I realized--it wasn't my love I was feeling. It was God's love for a sweet, struggling, confused teen-aged boy. In that moment, I felt the absolute infinite worth of his soul, I knew how very much God loves David, and I knew I HAD to do what I could to help him through the despair and loneliness he was experiencing. I have no words to describe the feelings that accompanied that experience, but it WAS this experience that compelled me to do everything in my power to serve the Lord and my brother.

So now, six months later, I have never once questioned the fact that I love this young man. Two weeks ago, he sent me an email, in which he said: "You single-handedly helped me come across a desert of emotional distress. The tears you shed with me, the laughter we enjoyed together, and the constant, unwavering love are gifts that are priceless to me. I love you more than I could ever tell you." David has told me repeatedly, over the past six months, that he loves me. I have never been able to accept or believe that, until last Friday. I'm not sure what happened during our visit. Maybe the fact that after I sent him all that "stuff" explaining/confessing why I struggle to maintain our friendship, he still wanted to come see me, to talk with me, to befriend me, finally made me understand that it's possible to love me? I don't know... but somehow, I finally believed it. And since that belief has started to grow, I no longer feel compelled to run, to hide. I just feel peace. How is this possible? Am I healing? How did I get to the point where I could finally believe, and why was that so important in my emotional healing? I just don't understand.

Darrin says he understands. And he says he hopes I always know that he loves me. That is something I've never questioned. Anyone who would live with me for 20 years, didn't marry me for my money.