One Sunday, about 3 months ago, I had a really rough time in sacrament meeting. My children were struggling to get along, we were 10 minutes late in spite of all of my efforts to get us there early, and a tone moment, Corbin and Quincy began arguing right as Soren had become loudly upset with Reese. As I attempted to break up 2 arguments at once, Sloane fell off the pew and hit her head. I carried 3 crying children out of the chapel in my arms and left two on the pew to argue. I overheard the speaker giving a talk about serving others and laughed audibly at the irony that I had just crawled past 100 members of our congregation with overloaded arms, and somehow remained invisible. I pulled a handful of hair from my angry child's grasp and wondered how I was going to do this. And how I would do it joyfully. Raising children is not a burden and I don't want my children to ever feel like they are a burden to me. But as several anxiety triggers fired off that morning, I began to doubt the promise that the Lord always provides a way for me to do His will. And I knew that His will is for me to bring my children to church.
I know that my doubts and anxiety were perpetuated by my own self pity, and I'm thankful the Lord still offered blessings in my state of pride. I received a text from Ardis a few weeks later. She offered to pick up my boys an hour before church a few times a month. Then, she would spoil them with a delicious bacon or donut type breakfast and I would be able to take a shower with no one crying outside the bathroom door. I accepted the offer and as promised, she picked up my boys an hour before church.
This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.
I don't say that lightly. I've received some wonderful service through the years, but this one saved my Sundays and helped them to be so much more peaceful. Not because the boys were gone and not because of the shower. Because someone saw me. Me. Not the same as the "you'll get through it" and "been there" comments. No rude comments about the children. Not a judgement about the lingering postpartum anxiety that only triggers at church and makes me want to bolt to my car and be alone, but I know I need to stay so instead I sweat through meetings. Just a loving over to serve my family. That's it. She didn't point out to my children that I'm struggling (which happens) she didn't make me feel guilty for not having it all together or for admitting that this is hard for me (I wish it wasn't. I swore I would never be the wife who didn't support her spouse's calling 250%, and then I had a hard baby and anxiety and Satan found his angle: shame aka mom guilt. Not enough-ness. I'm almost completely over that now, but still have my moments when people say hurtful things and I pridefully let it get to me.
Anyway, I let pride go and accepted the offer from Ardis and felt the Savior's love through the charitable service given to my family by the Rybergs.
Stewart plays with the boys. Sometimes Quincy would go instead of Soren and Scott would paint her nails before church. They sat with me during church and pulled wiggly bodies onto their laps. Scott is one of the first people ever that Sloane willingly let hold her, and the only time she has ever stayed in nursery without Aaron or I is when Scott stayed in there with her.
This service has made the sabbath a delight. Corbin gets up at 5:30 or 6 on Sundays and showers and gets himself dressed, then reads while he waits for Ardis to arrive at 9. On the weeks he didn't go, he was grumpy, but hey, at least he was already dressed and clean!
This photo was texted to me one Sunday after the dreadful outcome of the BYU v Utah holy war. Sloane slept in and Reese went to see what all the hype was about. She saw Scott's hat and thought up this funny pic. Aaron calls it blasphemy. Hahaha.
Now that my parents have moved here, the kids will walk up to their house for cereal and Sunday shenanigans before church. I'm nervous about the boys and this transition, but so grateful to have my wonderful parents live nearby.
Thanks for helping me breathe and recognize joy in the sabbath day again, Rybergs. I'm forever grateful that you saw me and recognized an opportunity to serve.
