Obedience and Blessings

 I have this most beautiful soft pink, almost blush, silk blouse that I have treasured for more than 20 years, possibly as many as 30 years. Today, in my desperation to find a blouse that wasn't too hot or too cold that would go with my black nylon skirt. In my search, I happened across this pink silk blouse, nicely pressed, and ready to wear. 

So off I went to church, wearing my soft pink blouse and stroking the arms of my blouse as I drove. I greeted people I knew at church and got up from my pew located by the chapel exit doors to run down the hallway to make copies of the ward maintenance schedule that I updated so that it would be current on the bulletin boards.  

No one was in the library, so I rushed back to the chapel entering through the chapel doors on the opposite side of the room from where I exited. I rushed past to my seat and just as I sat down, my cousin came up and said, "I need to tell you something." She leaned in very close and whispered in my ear, "You have a big hole under your left armpit exposing your undergarments."

I reached across my body with my right hand and felt. "Oh my goodness!" The hole was at least 6 inches long and exposed my entire armpit area and then some.  What should I do? I was supposed to say the closing prayer.

I went to the Elder that had asked me to say the closing prayer and told him, "I have a wardrobe malfunction and need to leave.  I'm not sure I will be back in time to say the closing prayer." He said he would take care of it.  I went to my pew, gathered up my leather folder, and my red Michael Kors purse given to me by my daughter, and headed to the car. 

As I drove the 15 minutes home, I began thinking, "I didn't get to sleep until 1 A.M. and I am very tired. Maybe I should just stay home and rest. But I am missing the children's performance as they are performing today. Wait until I get home and if I can't find anything to replace this blouse, I'm staying home."

Once home, I took off the blouse to discover not only was there a large hole almost 8 inches along the underside of the shoulder seam on the left side. To my surprise, I also found a 3" hole near the underside of the right shoulder! Holy cow! So I began looking for something to wear. 

A large over-the-door hook hangs on the inside of my bedroom closet door. That hook holds clothes that I either can't wear, didn't wear, or want to wear in the future. Two garments from the door hung an embroidered, cream-colored cotton, V-neck, button down the front sweater. I grabbed it and laid it on the bed. 

"Am I going back to church? Or am I going to lie across the bed?" ran through my mind. "Let's see how this sweater fits.  I haven't worn it since before Mike (my ex-husband) moved out." It fit. So I went ahead and raced for the front door, hooking Max, the German Shepherd back onto his 40-foot cable (he is an escape artist and the fence doesn't contain him) and ran to the car.  

The children's program had already started when I arrived, but my friend, Allegra, had saved me a seat - the same seat I sat in before I left! I sat down and began listening to the program.  The music and learning that the children shared gave me goosebumps and brought tears to my eyes. I almost missed it. I was so thankful that I didn't stay home. The children shared what they learned about Old Testament prophets and how important it is to keep the commandments and obey our covenants with God. I had listened to the still small voice and returned to church instead of laying down. I felt very blessed.

After Sacrament meeting, I started down the hall and my friend, Joyce, stopped me to chat, and let me know how glad she was that I had returned to church after rushing home to change. She was carrying 2 large bags and I offered to carry one for her. She looked at me and said, "Would you like to learn something about genealogy today?

I would miss Relief Society if I said yes, but my genealogy searches in the past had yielded me nothing on the top line of my tree at my fifth great-great-grandfather and great-great-grandmother. I had gotten their names from my great-grandfather's marriage license, but that was as far as I could get. Forty-three years of digging in my roots yielded to me nothing. I looked at Joyce and replied, "Yes, I would like to find more than just my great-great-grandfather."

Joyce unlocked the door to the genealogy lab, turned on the lights, walked across the room to the end computer, and sat down. I glanced across the room and noticed how many things had changed since I was last there.  The monitors were 24-inch monitors and very new, making it much easier to read the fine print on many documents. The chairs were really cushy and new as well.

For the following 45 minutes, many doors opened. I had password issues for starters and had to reset passwords on both Family Search and Ancestry. Then Joyce directed me toward the little green leaves on my Ancestry account. I clicked on the one for my great-great-grandfather and it revealed there was a marriage license available. I began crying. For 43 years, I had been digging in these roots, finding nothing, not getting anywhere and feeling frustrated about my genealogy searches. 

I clicked on the document and was surprised to find a marriage date and the names and locations of yet another generation of grandparents. Each discovery made me cry more. I almost missed finding them by staying home, but my obedience to 'Keep Holy the Lord's Day' and returning to church had blessed me beyond my wildest dreams!

I am a child of God and obeying his laws and commandments blesses me each and every day. I am thankful for the Gospel that teaches me of His word and all that I should do to return home to Him. It isn't easy all the time, but if I listen carefully when I ponder topics such as returning to church, He directs me on what I should do. Today, rich blessings came in the form of more branches on my family tree. I will continue to search and expand my tree. I am truly thankful for the guidance I am given in all things by Him.

PTSD

 Today, I was where I am supposed to be.  As a customer service agent who works from a large call center, I never know who I will speak to when I answer the phone with, "Thank you for calling ******. My name is Kate. How may I help you?"

A woman replied with her name, clearly shaken and near tears, and told me of the problem.  She and her husband reside in Ft. Myers, Florida, which just a week ago experienced a devastating hurricane named Ian. While Ian flooded many areas and the surge wiped out many homes, her issue is greater than that.  

This woman I will call Barbara to make it easier to understand is married to a post-Viet Nam vet who suffers from PTSD. Ft. Myers now resembles a war zone and has exacerbated the husband's PTSD. I will further refer to the husband as Mark for easy understanding. Barbara was near tears because last evening, her husband purchased Amtrak tickets to get them up into New England and get the both of them out of Florida.  

There was a problem with the transaction made using a debit card, at least that is what they believed. But more worrisome than the debit card to me was Barbara's state of mind. I know how small things can cause a person with PTSD to blow up and become unreasonable. I listened to Barbara as she wept and explained that the real issue was her husband's reaction as he blew things totally out of proportion.  My heart hurt for Barbara. 

I spent 22.5 years married to a man with PTSD from being in Viet Nam as a Marine. I remember that at the beginning of our marriage, I thought his lack of self-control wasn't off the charts, but I had no idea how much worse it gets with age and additional trauma. I knew Barbara's fear and the pain she was feeling and how she was examining how she could have easily minimized this event by possibly making the transaction herself and keeping it quiet and resolving the issue when he wasn't around.  But she couldn't.

She wasn't on his account and he had made the transaction from an account with only his name on it. I could not assist her in getting this cleared up and could not share any information from the account with her. However, I inquired whether her husband was attending PTSD classes at the nearest VA to help him control his anger. He is, but like me, she is still having just as rough a time of dealing with his outbursts as I did with my husband. 

I remember how irrational he was and would blow up when he dropped something such as a box of cereal and then would kick it to death while cereal spewed everywhere. I remember how saying, "No" or disagreeing with him would send him into an unreasonable rage. I kept my purse with my keys by the front door so that I could make a quick escape if needed.  Occasionally, if my parents weren't home, I slept in their basement. If they were home, I found a place to park the car and slept in the car. 

For the longest time, I was afraid of befalling harm.  Then one day I was no longer afraid. I did get hurt physically, but emotionally, I no longer felt anything. I didn't feel love, hate, or fear.  I prayed a lot for deliverance and knew that whatever happened, Heavenly Father was in control and the only thing I could do was pray and have faith.  

I have now been free of that relationship for 12 years.  At first, I was lost, but as time passed, I found myself.  I now suffer from a type of PTSD along with Adrenal Fatigue as a result of so much stress for such a long period. For fear of entering a similar situation, I'm cautious about entering relationships. I am working on myself. Healing is the most important thing. It took years to get here and it will take years to heal. 

If you know someone with war-related PTSD, encourage them to get help. The ones they love will suffer as much as they do not get the help that can get them back into the life they deserve..

Uncle Bill's Self-Improvement List

 Today, we (all my family and his) buried my Uncle Bill who lived 89 years, 4 months, and 3 days in this world. He spent the past 4-5 years battling Alzheimer's and it finally took its toll. He was a unique, one-of-a-kind man that served my aunt and the world he lived in with his quiet demeanor and firm faith in God. 

As a photographer, he always had us 'group up' so he could snap a family photo could at each get-together to mark the passage of time. Family group photos were a must in Uncle Bill's mind. The family group always tried to outdo him with our antics.  Uncle Bill never ceased to amaze me by how fast he could move from the back of the camera to the group as he set the timer for 10 seconds so he could be in the photo with the group.

As my cousins and aunt went through Uncle Bill's things, they found an entire piece of paper with what I would call his mottos for living.  I would like to include it here in hopes that anyone reading this will see it and decide that living with these self-helps will help to better their lives.

Don't postpone joy.

Stop blaming others.

Take responsibility.

Count your blessings.

Do more than is expected.

Take time to smell the roses.

Be there when people need you.

Never deprive someone of hope, it may be all they have.

Be someone's hero.

Don't be afraid to say I'm sorry.

Don't tailgate.

Don't rain on other people's parade.

Improve your performance by improving your attitude.

Say "Thank You" a lot.

Say "Please" a lot.

Leave everything a little better than you found it.

Don't interrupt.

Keep good company.

Keep your promise.

Be kinder than necessary.

Make it a habit to do nice things.

Never give up on anyone. Miracles happen every day.

Live so that when your children think of fairness, caring, and integrity, they think of you.

Remember other people's birthdays.

Don't nag.

Be forgiving of yourself and others.

As Nathan, my cousin, read through this list during the funeral, I made a mental list of a few of these I need to work on. As I think of Uncle Bill, I believe he lived up to this list.  His patience and quiet demeanor remembered by all of us.  His list will stand as a reminder to each of us as a checksheet of how we need to live.  I know we will all miss Uncle Bill. Alzheimer's may think it won this battle, but in reality, it was a stepping stone for my uncle to return home.  God Bless Uncle Bill!