It’s not easy being a single person going to a family church, and this week, thanks to the Internet, I’ve learned that this is not an LDS-specific dilemma. However, some weeks when I wake up on Sundays, or even as I’m prepping my Sunday School lesson during the week, I want to just quit and spend Sundays in bed reading the New York Times.
A couple of weeks ago, I really didn’t want to go to church, but my sense of duty is strong and I forced myself to go. As I drove the 18 minutes, I listened to a playlist of my favorite LDS musicians. The music, so familiar to my soul, calmed my anxieties and spoke peace to my mind. As I sat through our worship service, I felt comfortable. Nothing groundbreaking was said, and I spent some time reading a book of Old Testament commentary while I half-listened to the talks (yay multi-tasking). But I knew I was in a good place.
This past Sunday at church, a few people asked how I was doing, and I was mostly honest: my hands are in more pain than ever before, I’m coming down with a cold, I don’t get enough sleep but I’m generally happy and life is mostly good. (I’m tired of being fake and saying “everything is great!” in a place where I am supposed to be able to be uplifted and comforted.)
This week and next week are incredibly tough weeks. I do it to myself, partly because I really do love helping with the musical. Sunday as I practiced the piano and prepared meals for the week, I felt lighter. It is probably the first time in my life I could consciously feel people praying for me.
I made cookies later Sunday night, and because I can be an idiot, I burned my finger on a cookie sheet. I was immediately worried that I had burned it badly enough that I wouldn’t be able to play in rehearsals this week. It’s been three days, and I have full use of my finger, and the blister is mostly gone.
I have a few sniffles and my throat is sore in the morning and I feel quite tired, but the past three days I have been able to come home, take a short nap, rest, and be in bed early. Throw in my chicken soup for lunch and plenty of water during the day, and I’m doing all I can to keep from getting so sick that I can’t make it to school or rehearsal.
And I can still feel people praying for me. It’s an odd sensation, and one that I really don’t feel I deserve. But I’m grateful for it nonetheless.
So if you are reading this and you’re one of those people praying for me, thanks. I really appreciate it.