This morning I read 1 Nephi 16 and 17. For reasons that I don't understand, the Spirit speaks more clearly to me when I read in French. We are encouraged to liken the scriptures to ourselves, to see the application or parallel in our own lives.
I realized last night that I have slipped into the angry phase of mourning. My body is rigid with unshed tears. I am not angry with God for taking Beloved. I am not angry with Beloved for dying. But I am bewildered and frustrated at how difficult work has become. (And I am still without a testimony of why I have been called to serve in Primary. Though I have asked. More than once.)
Work used to be the place where I went when everything else was falling apart. No matter what was going on at home, I could go to work and make discrete progress on one thing or another. And I could go home feeling as if part of my life made sense.
And now I feel like a kid who has wandered out onto the freeway on her tricycle in rush hour and is facing oncoming traffic. I don't even know where to begin to ask for help. But I have a meeting this afternoon with the office manager and my mentor. We will get this all straightened out.
(I have a new, not entirely positive, appreciation for the tithing promise of blessings coming so thick and fast that there is not enough room to receive them. Right now some of them are cattle trucks bearing down on me at 70mph.)
And then I will have one blessed day in which to do things at home that I know I'm good at, before I go serve in the calling that has me nearly as bewildered (if not as frustrated) as work.
I just have to make it through till 4:00. And then I can come home and create. The good news is, I am not depressed. I am a veritable delicatessen of mixed emotions, the strongest and most consistent of which is anger. But I am not depressed.
Heaven and I can work with that.