Sunday Thoughts - Murmur No More

I confess that I am a murmurer.  I don't know if it makes it better or worse that I am not a public murmurer, as some people seem proud of their I'll-say-exactly-what's-on-my-mind-no-matter-whose-feelings-I-hurt attitude, but I usually reserve my opinions of discontent for my husband's, family's or friend's ears only.  Oh, and for my blog.  Yes, I realize that is probably enough people to be considered public but I'm a lot more comfortable with my original statement.

What this means is that even though I am a supportive-go-with-the-flow-I-can-help-with-that-yes-girl, I don't always have the kind of attitude I should have when performing service.  I can be especially murmurific when it comes to my husband performing service.

Because he is in a bishopric, he has been ordained a High Priest.  For my handful of non-LDS friends out there, this means that he gets to hang with the old guys.  O.K...so they are not all old, but, generally speaking, a man becomes a high priest later in life.  Both the young guys and the old guys have their different assignments and responsibilities, but one of the duties of the High Priests is to take care of the widows in the ward.  In the wintertime, that includes snow removal for those that still live in their own homes.

I'm a little embarrassed that I am complaining on my blog about shoveling snow again.  I don't know what it is about this pesky task that annoys me so much, but every time I see those white balls of snow coming down, I feel picked on.  Jay thinks it's because I have control issues.  I can't control the when or how much so I get mad.  Maybe.  I think it's because I know it means hours of extra work for a guy that doesn't have very many extra hours.  In other words, it cuts directly into my Jay time.

The last two days have been snow filled and yesterday was a disappointing day for me in terms of getting things done and spending time together as a family.  Both boys had basketball games at different hours of the day, Seth had another long Destination Imagination meeting with his team and Jay spent a good three hours at a widow's home, shoveling her oversized driveway and picking away at the sheets of ice that cover her walkway after falling from her roof.  This afternoon, after finally coming home after his many hours of meetings, taking care of tithing and shoveling the walks around the church, he announced he needed to head back over to the widow's home to clear off the three or four inches of snow that accumulated overnight and this morning.  Feeling compassionate because he was clearly tired, but also selfishly wanting his task to take much less time than it did the day before, I quickly bullied him into letting me go with him to help.  As much as I hate shoveling, I'd rather shovel then spend another Jay-less day at home.

Prepared for manual labor, we arrived at the widow's home and divided up the job.  Jay handled the wide garage area and I started on the long narrow driveway.   We worked quickly and efficiently while Henry watched a movie in the van and Seth and Sam pretended they were Shaun White on one of the huge piles of snow.  I've previously helped Jay with this shoveling service twice before, and even discussed this widow and her needs both with him and during our Relief Society Presidency meetings, but I had yet to actually meet her.  Although she's housebound, she still serves as Visiting Teaching Supervisor and makes all the monthly calls to get the visiting teaching statistics.  The last time we spoke on the phone, she thanked me for my husband's service and invited me to stop in and introduce myself the next time I came by.

As I shoveled, I had her invitation in the back of my mind.  I wasn't really in the mood for any sort of chit-chatting, but knew it would be rude to simply shovel and leave.  I decided to make the boys come with me for a quick "hi" and after I finished the driveway, we knocked on her door.

As soon I saw her I thought of my dear grandmother.  Then, I thought of Jay's grandmother.  Bright, wonderful women who were eventually confined to spending the day in a recliner.  I thought of women I know who might not be elderly but are lonely and seeing this woman, and her smile and her obvious delight to receive visitors melted away my earlier frustration and indifference.  We chatted about my family, her family, how she misses coming to church, how grateful she is to Jay for his faithful service and about the gospel.  She wanted to know all about who spoke in Sacrament Meeting and what their topic was and I felt impressed with President Monson's great love and care of the widow's of the church.   In the Bible, James talks about pure religion and equates it to visiting the widows in their affliction.  Today, that made perfect sense.

I have looked at this responsibility of Jay's every way but the right way.  At my best, I have thought about it in terms of fulfilling a calling, of setting a good example for our sons and for providing service for a member of our ward.  At my worst, I have considered it a major inconvenience and burden on our family.  None of those viewpoints had any effect other than placing myself, or really Jay, higher than this widow.  We were helping her.

I can't quite explain how I felt walking out of her home after our visit.  All I can say is it was significantly different than how I felt walking in.  Better.  Sweeter.  Affected.  Instead of spending an hour shoveling a widow's driveway, we had spent an hour shoveling her driveway.  And even thought I had just met her, something about her and my memories of my grandmother helped me love her.  Jay and I both felt full of love on the drive home and the feeling has carried its way into the rest of the evening.

 I hope today's experience will help me remember Christ's words when He said, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the these of these . . .ye have done it unto me."  Knowing that should be enough to keep me from complaining but feeling the effects of serving her AND Him today will hopefully keep my murmuring habit contained for awhile.