That we may be filled....

July 29, 1979

Another rough Sunday. I have trouble with Sundays in they're more work than ever. Things have been creeping in on me for some time now. I keep finding myself wishing I were alone away somewhere for a long time. It's hard for me to actually face up to and admit to the fact that I'm only me and not Deanne, Jeanine, Chris Cottam, Jeri Edwards, etc. It seems all I can do physically, mentally, spiritually, etc. is to take care of my family and home - just the routine chores and daily demands. Pres. Munns described it once as feeling like a rubber band, stretched to capacity, unable to stretch further without breaking; needing to ease up a bit before trudging on....

[I] read a couple of excellent articles in the August issue of the Ensign. One on dealing with ambiguity and the other on family planning. Just what I've been groping for. The Lord is so helpful to me. He must love me to keep working with me as He does.

--------------------------

My mom wrote this journal entry when I was 9 years old and we had 8 children in our home (or maybe it was 9 kids- what year were you born, Jon? :)). We went to church each Sunday and I remember the Sunday Morning Hustle...."I can't find my other shoe!" "Do you have a slip I can borrow?" "You spilled your breakfast on your Sunday shirt!" "Where's your belt?" Add to this nursing babies, changing diapers, bottles, church talks and lessons, and meals. I know my mom was sharing her honest self in her journal. Most moms know exactly how she felt. I do.

Last Sunday our family attended the missionary "farewell" of a young man, Kyle, who Wayne taught in the Young Mens program in our former ward/congregation. The meeting started at 8:30am, so we had nearly everyone showered, and clothes ready the night before so we could get up, throw ourselves together and head out the door by 7:30. Had to stop for gas, but hey, we were out the door by 7:39 A.M...fully dressed- all 7 of us!

We arrived a few minutes early and had the chance to say hi to dear friends. Kyle's sister, Erin gave the opening prayer, and expressed gratitude for eternal families. Their dad passed away when Kyle was just 5 years old. In her beautiful prayer, Erin prayed that "we might be filled." Sacrament started and our little Wesley piped in, so I took him for a walk up to the temple which is next door to the chapel, and then we walked back to the church to the nursery so Wes could play while I listened to Kyle's talk.

Kyle felt impressed to talk about his dad; how after his dad died for a long time he felt like God owed him a vision of his dad, but he has come to realize that his testimony of eternal families is more important. He graciously acknowledged the impact his leaders had on his life; his YM leaders who showed him how to honor his priesthood and respect a wife. He acknowledged his family; brothers who served missions before him, and beautiful sister who has always been a good example. He praised his mom as an angel on earth and said he knew that his Heavenly Father's love must be incredible because he can't imagine love greater than his mom has for him. She never remarried and has raised her 4 children on a school teachers' salary, always faithful in paying tithing. Kyle's talk should be in the Ensign; it was so heartfelt and profound. He'll make an amazing missionary! I sat in the nursery with a tissue box in my lap, overjoyed for the Kyle & his family, & with a heart FILLED & determined....

After all of the rush, struggle, and craziness that happens in the 24 hours leading up to entering the chapel, I want to enter the chapel doors with an honest, broken heart, (even if I'm 5 minutes late) ready and expecting to feel the Lord's love and truths in my heart. I have yet to meet a mom who doesn't know the "Sunday Morning Hustle," and even wonder if all of the effort is worth it. It absolutely IS worth it. I'm o.k. with Wesley having to leave sacrament meeting because he wants to talk rather than be still, and I'll continue to work with my kids who turn around and whisper to a friend, get restless, or fight over a pen during sacrament meeting, but I'll also strive to nourish my own spirit each Sunday, even if it's just a key sentence or two I hear from a talk. I need that.

Beyond nourishing my soul, I find that connecting with others and nourishing one another makes up for the Sunday Morning Hustle. I seek out friends and people to talk with. The support is essential.

I love that my mom acknowledged finding answers and guidance in the Ensign on a particularly rough Sunday. I too am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who offers nourishment without price. He his there to feed our spirits and nourish our souls when we come to Him with a broken heart, seeking to be filled.

Signing off now....it's time for the Sunday Morning Hustle!

With love,