Ward Temple Day

The bishop declared yesterday ward temple day, and that everyone should attend the temple with their families as a gift to the Savior this Christmas.

Wish I could.

So I sent my children instead.  They went with two of their cousins, and the oldest one drove.  They had 3 family names to do baptisms for, and my daughter decided to go along, hoping she could do some temple file names. It was my son's first time, and he was nervous. I longed to go with him.

But all went well without me.  The Oquirrh Mountain Temple was busy, so they each did their one family name, and that was it (daughter was given a card from a different family that was there). Son enjoyed it and realized that I was right when I told him he didn't need to be nervous.

Now my brother and sister will do the rest of the work without me. My mom doesn't know who else to have help with the sealing.  We talked about it a few weeks ago and stood and cried in her kitchen, holding each other. I cried as I told my parents that Scott no longer attends church with us. That he is no longer even trying to get his recommend.

I'm waiting to hear from the Stake President as he talks to active LDS (with recommends) who are also members of Affirmation (or rather, talks to their priesthood leaders, I guess).

I don't know what will happen.  I am preparing for the worst and hoping for the best.  I only hope I can pick up the pieces again when it is all over.  My desire to hang in there is wanning, and bitterness is starting to get the best of me. I pray often for my heart to be softened, that I can forgive my leaders.  But it is so hard.

Two weeks ago the kids and I stayed home from church with Scott.  I asked the kids the night before, "Do you want to go pass the Sacrament tomorrow?" "Do you want to go to Young Women's tomorrow?" "Do you want to go to Primary tomorrow?"  Each of them told me "not really."  So we slept in, we watched "Music and the Spoken Word" featuring Natalie Cole.  Scott made breakfast for us.  Sweedish pancakes! Yum! We listened to more uplifting music of Christmas and our Savior, and our home was filled with love and peace and the spirit.  I did not get a substitute for Relief Society music for the first time ever.  As expected, they survived without me.

It was so much easier than getting everyone up and fighting with them to get them ready, having our 4-year-old ask on the way to church, "Where is dad?", sitting through meetings fighting morning sickness and hoping I brought enough food with me, facing all the smiles and "how are you"'s of everyone in the ward, some of them obviously trying harder to reach out to me since I am there alone. Some of them asking where Scott is. And I tell them the truth, and I cry. I used to cry because he was not there with me.  Now I cry because I am not home with him, and I feel like a ward project. And worst of all, facing the occaisional comments in lessons about how the world is spiraling downward, and we need to be careful not to be distracted by even one tiny thing that we don't agree with, that might eventually cause us to completely give up that which is most important to us.

What is more important?  Going to church where I am in turmoil and conflict and cry all the time?  Or staying home with my family, feeling the peace of the spirit and the love that we share. But of course staying home guarantees that I will not get my recommend back. Curses.

Please, dear God, help me figure out what to do. What is best for my children.  What is best for Scott.  What is best for the unity and peace of our family. What is best for ME.

All I want for Christmas is an answer.