What a week of lessons from the Universe... Coincidence, irony...call it what you want. I call them postcards from Heaven...the little things, messages, that remind us there is something bigger at work in our little life. Things that a loving Heavenly Father needs us to learn. I even picture in my mind that these little postcards are signed by God himself with the tag line...'Having a wonderful time! Wish you were here!'
The tagline on my return postcard, would likely say..."In case you were wondering...Life is hard. I wish I was there too."
But I'm not there. I'm still figuring things out here.
Earlier this week, I was in the Temple. It was the one and only time I have been in the temple and felt more agitated and anxious than I felt outside of those sacred doors. The temple has always been the one place when my heart is still and mind is clear and I can become one with my Father in Heaven. I can be still...really be still and figure some things out. For some reason, that didn't happen.
I had gone for the soul purpose of continuing my wrestle to understand the purpose of my struggling, hard life. Is my life just about taking care of sick people and then working excess hours beyond caregiving to try to pay your dues that this ridiculous world requires, just so you can dwell in one little corner ?
As my luck goes...an elderly lady I was standing behind passed out! She fell back into me and I lost my balance and we both went down. It all happened in slow motion. When I looked up, all I could see was a tiny room crammed with women in white dresses and a little, frail elderly woman agitated, somewhat hostile and disoriented laying in my lap. But, at the same time, I was calm as could be and all I could focus on were the piercing grey eyes of this woman and she looked at me, moments later and asked, "Were you sent here from Heaven to be my angel? We could be best friends." And my response to her, "I need a best friend."
My heart was heavy. I wanted to leave. I didn't want to stay and finish what I had started. As I have pondered on this, perhaps my problem is that I am already living my purpose. Maybe I am already right where God needs me to be...taking care of everyone. I just wish I was more aligned to that purpose. I'm tired. I wish I wasn't tired. I guess I'm just tired of trying to make it all work. Saving lives both physically and spiritually is exhausting.
As I left the temple, I received a distressing call from a young woman who said she needed a safe place to be and could she move in for a couple of weeks until her other plans worked out. Of course, I didn't hesitate. All three of the kids and I worked until 2 am trying to get the bathroom done, and a place carved out in the chaos upstairs so would at least have a quiet, safe corner to be.
Some unexpected things happened a day or so later, and it became apparent that I was being played and manipulated and it was not a pretty thing. I try to be loving and helpful so it hurts deeply when a needy person is not who they appear to be. It's such a raw, vulnerable feeling when that happens and I don't manage that kind of thing very well.
On the tail of feeling angry and upset about that, my car got hit while I was cleaning a house early this afternoon. The guy told me he just 'tapped' the bumper but when I walked out to survey the actual damage, the first thing I saw was his front bumper laying on the pavement. Wires were broken off and I feared the worse for my car! He told me that he had spent 30 min. prior to coming to find me to try and pull the dents out himself and wash the paint off. Even after that...the whole side of the back bumper was nothing but white paint. Almost solid white paint, scratches, dents.
I wanted to be mad especially considering he wasn't properly insured but when I looked at him, he looked about as downtrodden and run down with life as I was. I could see sweat on his brow and a reel in his brain of just the right words he was preparing, that might soften the explanation to his wife at home with their three tiny kids, why they no longer had a car that would run. I was overcome with mercy for him. For one small moment, I felt like I loved him the way God loved him. He's just a young kid, married, trying to get an education and make a place in this world for his little family. He was apologetic and accidents happen. We were both hurt.
We all need to be treated with a little more mercy and forgiveness in life. He spent even more time scrubbing paint off, he sort of made it worse because he actually took my paint off but he tried. He tried to do the right thing in light of the circumstances. My car still runs. It doesn't sound very good in the back end, there is something not right but there's not much I can do now. It's not like it is a nice car anyways.
So many things to learn. I don't always understand the whys and hows but clearly, Heaven is near and has a message for me.