If I listed all the discouraging things that happened this week, you would never read this blog again. And I would have to rename it Things that are Frustrating. But since I prefer to write about Stuff I Love, I'll leave out the details. Let's just say that the week started with some piece of fruit imploding quietly in the fruit bowl one night while we slept, leaving a giant gooey mess for me to discover in the morning; and it ended with a restructuring of Craig's company that left 125 people (some of whom are closely tied to us both personally and professionally) without jobs.
By Thursday morning, after being severely beaten down with one discouraging thing after another, I decided I was just going to curl up in a small heap on the couch and stay there indefinitely. I didn't love anything. I wasn't grateful for anything. And I had very little hope for anything but getting through breakfast and getting all four of my kids out the door. My theory was that if I stopped moving toward anything, then all this opposition would stop pummeling me. (Let me just tell you from experience that that's not a sound theory.) While I sat lifeless on that couch trying to decide between sleep, or crappy TV and cookies for breakfast, not only did the events of the week continue to weigh on me, but I managed to conjure up a few doubts and fears that had nothing to do with this week at all. Like, if the fruit could implode and I could wake up totally unsuspecting to a disgusting mess on the counter, then maybe everything else I have felt secure in might also implode into some disgusting mess, too? (..after a breakfast of cookies and Diet DP, you'd be surprised how rational that actually sounded in my head...)
I'd like to say that at this point, I turned off both the TV and my head, and prayed mightily for heavenly assistance out of the dark. But I didn't. Instead, I decided to give up and give in to the numbness of sleep.
I honestly can't even tell you what exactly it was that woke me from that nap and launched me out of my stupor this week. There was a dream and a noise that startled me right off the couch. There was an urgent need for a burst of energy to get the house back in some kind of order before Craig came home from his business trip. There was a Jeffrey R. Holland talk running through my head. There was a much needed "debriefing lunch" with Craig after I picked him up from the airport. And there was a blissful three hours of DMCO on Thursday night.
And something about all of those Thursday things made me realize that my life isn't discouraging and hopeless. The liquified fruit and frustration part actually makes up a very small percentage of an average day for me. Mostly my days are filled with wonderfully mundane but purposeful responsibilities, and lots of meaningful interactions with people.
So I decided not to give in to the couch-inducing opposition that beckoned so loudly this week. I decided that today was going to be better than the three previous days had been. I decided to read the rest of that Jeffrey R. Holland talk. And I decided that this wasn't the week to give up.
I may not have prayed on Thursday morning, but I had been praying all week for help out of the pit of discouragement. It didn't come immediately on Tuesday when I asked for it, but it came. I know that I didn't drag myself off the couch. I know that it took some pretty huge heavenly assistance to accomplish that. I'm so grateful for the personalized help that Heavenly Father sends just at the right time.