These Moments

First night away from the kids in forever, and I watched "Hope Floats" on netflix. Okay, so my choice of genres leaves a lot to be desired, but I had a few moments tonight that I wanted to share.

In one of the scenes of the movie, Birdee is talking about how she kept trying to make herself what she thought her husband wanted. She said a line that made me weep. She said, "And one day, I looked and I was gone." Ah, that pierced my heart. I remember that.

There was a day when I sat on the floor of my closet crying my eyes out because I didn't know who I was or how to be me any more. I sacrificed my self-respect, my autonomy in the name of love, not realizing that what I was doing was anything but loving of myself.  I remember the day when I sat in class with a guest speaker, who was speaking to the young women of our ward about how they needed to be true to themselves, that God created each of them with a unique purpose, talents, insights, and that each of us are needed as ourselves to bless the lives of each other and fulfill God's plan for us. I had the overwhelming feeling that God wanted me to be the me he created, but I had no idea who that was. And this thought...the only person we are meant to sacrifice ourselves to and give our will to is God. None other.

I did know that I had this desperate vacuum in my life. I felt devoid of joy, lost in chaos, and consumed with the thought that nothing was worthwhile, that I wasn't worthwhile. Despite my profound love for my children, I was dangerously close to making an irrevocably bad decision. Fortunately for me, I had been attending church, and praying more fervently than I had ever prayed before. I was scared of my thoughts, scared of the black hole that I felt was swallowing me up. But my loving Father in Heaven threw me a lifeline. Many, in fact, since I missed the first hundred by having my eyes closed.

It has taken a surprisingly long time to find my way back to myself. I still haven't "arrived," but I know I'm closer than ever before. I discovered much to my astonishment that I mattered to God, and that looking after myself and standing up for myself was okay and not selfish. I have been blessed to discover strengths and talents that I didn't know I possessed. I began rediscovering joy by sliding down a hallway in my socks and I keep rediscovering it on a regular basis. I've learned that as a "whole"-er person, I can love others better than I could in my dysfunction.

Watching that scene in the movie reminded me of the journey, and it made me feel a bit melancholy, so I did what I always do when I'm feeling melancholy. I went outside. I walked in my orchard area to check on the chickens. I walked under the fruit trees well over 8 feet tall that were just twigs stuck in the ground five years ago, and looked at the beautiful foliage, all kissed by the setting sun. I looked at the bounty that the Lord provided my family on my peach, nectarine, plum and apricot trees. I looked at the grapes just forming and growing in my little vineyard. I felt the wonderful Fresno evening breeze and listened to my baby chicks and poults in their pens, begging for treats. I watched my hens scratch at the ground for every bit of goodness they could find. I felt the love and attentiveness of my Father in Heaven.

And standing there by my apricot tree, while I searched earnestly for a ripe piece of fruit, I discovered something amazing. When an apricot is ripe, it needs no twisting or pulling to come off the branch. You put your hand on it and nudge it, and it falls right into your palm. I think I'm still on the branch, still ripening. The Lord has work for me to do, and when I am ready, he will nudge me and I will fall trustingly into the palm of his loving hand, where he can put me to work, hopefully bringing sweetness into the lives of others.