Still Feeling Sad
My camera broke on my phone, so I don't really have many pictures to share. The only pictures that I have are of the selfie variety.
Easter and General Conference has come and gone. It was a nice Holy Week and Easter Weekend thinking about Jesus Christ and the sacrifice that He made for each and every one of us. I finished listening to the book, "Considering the Cross", by John Hilton. It was a great book and I learned a lot. One particular part of the book that I have been thinking about is the part when he talked about the symbols of Easter. He spoke of the Robe, the Reed, and the Crown. The crimson robe is to remind us that Jesus entered the wine press alone. He, alone, bore the weight of every single grape. He did it for me. The Reed is to remind us that although it was given to Jesus in mockery, He really did contain the power to rule. He could have stopped everything...but he chose to stay. The crown, made of thorns, is to remind us that when Adam and Eve left the Garden of Eden they were forced to enter a world full of Thorns and thistles. The thorns represent every trial, hardship, tribulation, and sin that man would experience after the Fall. When being crucified, Jesus literally and figuratively surrounded himself with our "thorns". He bore the weight and the pain of them. He did it for me.
Easter Weekend also happened to be General Conference weekend. The Saturday of General Conference I was stuck in the kitchen listening to it while I baked 5 DOZEN cinnamon rolls, which I delivered after the morning session. These deliveries were all to people that I know and love, mostly from the Tierra Bonita Ward, where we lived for 8 years. I dropped some off at the Davis home (Doug Davis). Doug's wife, Beth, passed away last year. I loved Beth dearly. She was the only one who came talk to me after my Mom died. She was there to visit and offer support after I gave birth to all of my babies. She was also the only one who came to visit me in our Sandwest Home after we moved from the East side. She was a gem. A hero of mine. I love and miss her. She was diagnosed with breast cancer prior to us leaving on our Canada trip last year. I had no idea that she was as sick as she was until we got home and people were posting things on Social Media. I had a dream about her one night. In the dream we embraced and I felt so much love for her. When I woke up in the morning I couldn't stop crying and I knew I had to see her. I drove to her house, uninvited. When I got there, her sister answered the door and told me that Beth has passed away that very night. I was heartbroken. No one else knew the news. Aside from one person, Shelly Tolman, who happened to be my old visiting teacher. I could have just gone home, but I felt prompted to go and visit Shelly. I went to her home and we cried together. It was a difficult time for many. A few months ago, I had another dream about Beth. She was standing on one side of a glass wall, her hands pressed up against the wall. I wanted to hug her but she apologized and said that she had to stay on that side of the wall. As I was visiting with Doug and their daughter, Hannah, I felt impressed to share that dream with them. We had a good cry together.
The rest of General Conference weekend was wonderful. I loved all of the talks. I need to read and really study them.
We had our first in-person youth activity on Wednesday at the church. Lizzie was in charge of teaching Yoga. We also made smoothies. It was absolutely wonderful to get together with the girls. I love them so much...which is why what happened the next day is so hard on me. The next day was Thursday and there was a camp meeting in the evening. I thought I would save the girls on gas money so I offered to drive a few of them to the meeting. I did not think this through. I forgot to wear my mask when I picked up Hannah...and then I remembered as we were picking up Bailey. But I chose to keep my mask off. I have no idea what came over me. I was willfully disobedient to the rules, in front of two young women whom I love and care for. I chose to disobey the rules when I was put in a position to be a leader and an example. On the way home I, again, thought that masks were unnecessary. I told them that I didn't have COVID and that they should be fine not wearing a mask. This pains me to make a record of. I have been severely chastised by the Lord. Early Friday morning I sent a text out to the girls and their Mom's, apologizing for my unacceptable and irresponsible behavior. I can literally barely stand to think about myself. I feel absolutely terrible. I was hoping to get a nice long response from someone letting me know that I'm forgiven...but only one Mom responded and told me not to stress about it. I apologized profusely the next day. I made a horrible choice and I cannot choose the consequences of my actions. I have been feeling like I've been in the depths of despair. Imagining the girls getting COVID because of my irresponsibility. Imagining their families getting it as well. Imagining the ward getting it. All because of me and my stupidity. I can barely stand the guilt. I have prayed and prayed and pleaded for forgiveness, which I don't feel like I have received. I am very close to asking to be released from my calling because I don't feel worthy. I am fasting today in an effort to feel relief from my guilt as well as praying for a miracle. A miracle that I will not be the sole reason that everyone in our ward gets COVID. And a miracle for Lizzie, who is very miserable.
She has been miserable for about a month. All she wants to do is lie down on the couch. She's missed church. She has missed school. She is in pain. I took her to the doctor last Tuesday and she was so miserable that the doctor sent her the ER. She had blood drawn (which she passed out afterwards), a urine test, and an ultrasound. They found an ovarian cyst. I followed up with the pediatrician to see what needs to be done aside from just allowing her to be miserable on the couch with a steady flow of ibuprofen intake. There has to be more that can be done. I'm fasting for a miracle. At this rate, she will not be able to go to YW camp. Let alone school, or a mission one day.
I'm praying that my irresponsibility will not cause the downfall of our entire ward family. And I'm praying that the doctors will be able to help Lizzie...she is miserable.
Jon still has about 2 weeks left with his pins in his foot. Oh my goodness, it's been a looooooooong month. I don't know how much longer I can take it. Honestly, I think I was doing okay...but the extra heavy burden of my overwhelming guilt has just about thrown me over the edge. Will I ever feel clean again? Jon told me to let it go...but I can't. He also told me to read President Benson's talk on Pride. I already know that I'm a miserable person, I don't know why he had to rub it in my face like that.
One good thing that happened last week was on Saturday. Wendy Rider (my 2nd Counselor) and 5 young women got together to "heart attack" a few less-active girls. They loved it. And they all wore masks in my car...which makes me even more upset that I didn't do the same thing a few days earlier. I made a few giant heart-shaped cookies as well to drop off on the doorstep. They are my specialties. Who wouldn't feel loved if they found a giant heart cookie the size of a pizza on their doorstep?
Pictures before my camera died:
Backyard Easter Egg Hunt
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