I have always had meaningful work at church until five months ago. Even after out-of-state moves, I was busy at church within a month. I count these last five months as some of the most trying of my life. I have continued to minister to people on my own, and that has been sweet and saving, but there was a dread that crept in every Saturday night when I remembered that church was the next day. I wanted to partake of the sacrament, but I was sad to have nothing to do at church. (I was given a church job but I had to wait several months to act.)
For the first time in my life, I was experiencing what it feels like to be the marginal person whom people do not ask for help. Sure, I had a husband and children on the bench with me, so I looked like the model church goer, but my spirit was living on the margins.
Meaningful work is one key to mental health. The timing of school starting and no longer home schooling, Daniel going on a mission, and being released as RS president meant that I lost almost every piece of meaningful work in the same month.
I am coming out on the other side of that pain now and I am glad I went to church each week, even when it was hard.
I am glad I followed the prophet’s 4 tasks given to the women of the church, even though I was so angry at the time. Those tasks weren’t token acts to show I was being good. This was preparation for meaningful work in a home centered church.
The other night I was looking at pictures from the last five months, and you know what? I don’t look the way I felt inside. I actually have a bit of a glow in my smile. Where was God during all of this time of pain? His Spirit was right inside of me, holding me up and teaching me. I had a private tutor, guiding my thoughts and giving me courage to keep going. I see it now. At the time, I thought I was living on the margins of the flock, unnoticed, but I was actually being upheld by God. There is no better inclusion than that. I know God a little better now, and he is with the people on the margins.