Patience and Faith

Baseball season is officially over at our house. In an extra-inning duel, the Pirates left with their heads held high, 12-13. My Littlebuddy didn't hit well and deep down really didn't want to miss his graduation on Mon. night so he's okay with it all but he Was trying his best still. Another last. Today was his 5th grade picnic. I realized I've had children in elementary school for 17 years, but after this week, no more. I'm not as sad as I thought I'd be. He's ready for growth and who am I to stop real progress?

Visited my friend in the hospital again yesterday. From the week before when I'd seen her, she was only a little bit better. I was hoping for more progress, but it just hasn't happened. Stroke number 5 was more cruel than the others, with the exception of immediately after number 2 where she lost the ability to speak understandably. The devasation of that moment still echoes somewhere deep inside. But, there is still hope. She understands everything. She's just tired. Her body is working on healing. I pray for it to happen, so I just need to exercise more patience and faith.

Twice in the past week, someone has mentioned me and scrapbooking in the same sentence, and my children quickly pipe up, "She never scrapbooks anymore." That's not totally true, but I can't remember the last time I did. Its been a slim year. I still miss it, but not too much, or I'd be down there this instant. Is it possible after 18 years, I finally just don't need it like I did before? I still think its important and a good use of my time, I just keep using my time for other things. I guess I'm comfortable with it because I know catching up is so fun for me. I also think it served as a therapy for me in the midst of all the busyness of raising children to remind myself, in the hardest of days, life is good. Here is the proof. We lived life and made memories and much of it I made happen - like some sort of job validation.

I don't need that anymore. I haven't for a while. I feel a settling inside that is real. I could say the words and believe them before, but now I know them - I am good enough. Not that there isn't room for improvement, because I know there truly is, but where I am today came about because all the yesterdays before led me here. Good days, bad days, lazy days, crazy busy days, bad hair days, crying days, spiritual experience days, and everything in between have brought me to this place of feeling satisfied. A phrase I really like, from the Book of Mormon, which Neal Maxwell pointed out in a Conference talk many years ago, sums up my feelings, "content with the things allotted me."

Things may change tomorrow and the discomfort and anxiety life brings may rip this right out of my grasp with force, but today the gratitude fills me with peace, contentment, stillness. Inside, the chattering has been replaced by soft gentle hushed tones. Where there used to be voices real and imaginery always questioning, is it good enough? Why can't I ever. . . ? I've got to - - - more, more, now the tones are kind. Just keep going, honey, I say to myself. Do what you can, be nice, take care of this minute's needs, then move on, try to love more purely and feel the goodness around you. I hope I can stay here when the crisis hit. Be gentle with myself, allow the growth to happen slowly but trust that surely it will come as it has before. Patience and faith. I can never really have enough of those qualities but spending the rest of my life working on it doesn't seem too unreasonable. After all, Elder Maxwell, at the end of his life, said, those are the qualities he's working on too. . . . Now if I could just write and think like him, mmmmmmmmmmm.