This photograph sits at my bedside and it makes me feel the blessing of my years with our children. It’s a bright spot in the dull days of grief that I am experiencing. Yes, grief for a good thing like a son going on a mission! The feelings of loss will do their work and change me, and that is a gift. The sadness will also wane in its intensity. So, please be patient and gentle. I am under construction again.
Blue + yellow = green.
Blue=initial reaction to trials
Yellow=God’s response to prayers
Green=courage and determination enhanced as a result of prayer
The formula is clear in Alma 58:9-13. Just read the highlighted words and apply them to a challenge that you are facing. This formula has worked for me my whole life.
Before Mark was set apart as a missionary, he wanted one last gathering with his Sanchez cousins who are his age, so we invited them to spend part of conference weekend here. MMSK is pronounced “misk,” and it’s an acronym of their names. Mostly, there was a lot of nonsense going on as they “watched conference”, but I think that the time together was important.
Mark and Richard attended a session of General Conference on Sunday. They brought the binoculars, which was a great idea.
When Mark sent in his mission papers last spring, I assumed he would be on a mission long before now. We’ve had a long preparation period, which was good in many ways and challenging in others.
We had time for more spiritual preparation and temple worship. Mark received mentoring in Preach My Gospel and got some work experience from his Sanchez grandparents. We had time to travel this summer.
The long wait means that the bandaid is being removed very slowly. I am pretty fragile lately.
Now that Mark has had a few days of home MTC, he is excited to go to the Provo MTC next week. Everything is as it should be: the wait, the anticipation, the emotions accompanying a goodbye, the excitement, his assignment. Everything.
I think that my current anxieties about getting the right clothing for Mark’s mission are because I know that these are some of the last tangible things that I can do for him. We are moving into a different phase where my help shifts almost completely to intangibles. I am crying every day, as one does at such a time.
He has clothing for Arctic temperatures and rain and a lifetime of other preparation. We now have just a few minor things to purchase.
All I need to do is look outside to see my annual “missionary sunflowers” (which first showed up when Daniel left on his mission) for a reminder that God is taking care of everything for Mark. And He allows me to do the very motherly thing to shop for the right coat.
Today we go back in time a few weeks for a post about our Sanchez family reunion.
There is so much I could say and show from this cabin experience. Not pictured are the big family portraits, the Virginia Reel, tubing in the river, the duckie races, etc. I simply don’t have photos of everything. As always, the experiences live in memory and take on new qualities with time.
I read someplace that people who change their decor each season have a cleaner house because the process exposes dusty corners and reminds you of things you are storing. Thus, you are dusting and reevaluating your belongings often.
Hmmm. I usually associate redecorating with a big mess. It takes me all day to switch out decor in the kitchen with boxes and tissue papers strewn everywhere.
I redecorate for the seasons because I like the change. I am a little spare in my autumn decor this year because I need something simple to view.
Mark was sad to see the summer decor taken down. I reminded him that in a few years when he returns, I will still have the summer things that he has loved while growing up.
“You’re going to go, but you are also going to come back, and this will all be here waiting for you.”
I could say this about the objects, but not about his childhood. I think we both knew he wasn’t really mourning the loss of the little baseball players and ferris wheel. He knew that this was the last summer display of childhood, and he won’t be the same little boy who loved these things ever again.
On Mark’s ninth birthday I took him to the Payson temple open house. Later, this was the first temple that Mark entered to do baptisms for the dead. Through these experiences and more, this became his favorite temple, and recently, he received his endowment there.
In the Payson temple there is a fruit motif in the interior design, as it was built on land that was previously an apple orchard. As you ascend within building, the blossoms in the motif change to fruits.
As I reflect on raising Mark, I see that small, sacred things like attending a temple open house have yielded very sweet fruit.
In his life.
In mine.
And for our ancestors.
I drove through a heavy rainstorm on Saturday to attend a niece’s temple endowment. I was flustered by my commute and ran from my car to the unfamiliar temple in the rain.
I was greeted in the usual way by young and old temple workers, ushered through new halls, and given spiritual assurances that my visit was important.
You’d think that after years of temple attendance that these things wouldn’t surprise me, but that is the way with joyful things.
“Surprise!” Joy cries, as it jumps out from a hiding place such as a rainy day or a challenging relationship.
There was a time when I didn’t think I would ever see this niece again because of family difficulties, but I was invited to be with her on her important day. Poised and happy, she greeted me in the celestial room with a hug.
Later, when I walked outside, the clouds were gone and the brilliant afternoon sunlight descended like a confirmation.
Surprise!