So, I had a really hard week last week. I’m obviously Mormon. I’ve been that way my whole life. Many people around me call it my blind faith — that it’s just what I’ve grown up with and it’s what I believe. They obviously aren’t aware that I’m an over-thinker of every. little. thing.
I think I some how was regressing into some Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. As soon as I heard the news that Roberta had left us I just had ALL these thoughts flooding into my head. Thoughts about my uncles who’d also died suddenly. Thoughts about all that I believe, having a hard time sorting through all of it.
All the sudden you’re brought back to the quintessential Mormon questions:
- Who am I?
- Where did I come from?
- Where am I going?
Do you know? I mean — do you really KNOW?
I sometimes worry that these are mearly things that I hope very hard. Some of you see the flames of hell nipping at my heels, I see. Well, I find that questioning is the only way that brings a sense of testimony. I think that you can question in an inappropriate way, but I also believe you can question stupid little things and find yourself in a very painful place.
One of the problems with being a mom is that in those moments of wholesome housework, you also have a lot of time to think about the things on your mind (especially, since much of my housework is done while P is asleep). I have a really hard time with the uncertainty of it all. Will we see them again, will they want to see us, will I end up in Hell, will they end up in Hell, will there be fire, will I get vertigo if I’m taken up in the last days?
Uh huh, that kind of thinking.
So, Drew and I went to the temple on Saturday. Thank GOODNESS for babysitters who are willing to watch the wee ones while we sort our lives out. I mean, we all know how I like a good sorting, don’t we?
I’m not sure what I hoped to see. Maybe to see her sitting next to me in white. She could’ve sat next to me, the session was fairly empty. But in the end I felt some very special things and I have a VERY firm testimony that She is VERY happy with how she lived her life, and where she is now. She also wants all of us to be very happy as well.
I am the kind of person, that when I have a canker sore, I tend to touch it like 5 million times with my tongue. Kind of like getting the hurt out of the way so that I can move on. But, it doesn’t realy happen that way, does it? That canker stays there and you’re just touching it and suffering. They don’t want that. They want us to be happy like they are.
AND, if they are happy, that must mean we will see them again and we can all be happy together.
I do think that knowing they are happy is one of the most comforting feelings you can have, regardless of how you believe on the rest of those questions.
And while this is a fairly random blog, it felt nice to get it out of my system. And while writing this, my manager called wanting me to come in for my evaluation, not particularly looking forward to that. Just one more thing to worry about. Happy, be happy, happy, be happy…