Trusting Mr. Amazing Man


Dear Ms. Feverfew –

On Saturday after I posted early in the morning, I decided what I needed most was a good day’s worth of work to take my mind off of “things.” I set to work, cleaning, sorting, and organizing. There were a few things that needed to be put in the attic and so I was up there making room, when I came across The Bin of your blankets, toys, and clothes that I have kept all these years.

In The Bin is your blessing gown from your first blessing, made by my wonderful neighbor, Sherri Johnson. A hand-crocheted blanket made by another dear friend. Cards & bits of wrapping paper from your baby shower. Your first pair of Sunday shoes. A blanket I had made for you. A few frilly, lacy, floral dresses that seems so foreign to me now, seeing as how I have only boys around the house. A knit receiving blanket with little pink bows printed on it that I instinctively knew to swaddle you up, snug like a little burrito. I didn’t need Dr. Harvey Karp or Dr. William Sears to tell me that swaddling you and keeping you close to me was the best thing for you. Seeing all of that just made me…well, I just fell apart. I just sat there and silently sobbed for quite some time.

Eventually, Mr. Amazing Man came looking for me.

Mr. Amazing Man (calling up the attic stairs): Gorgeous, you up there?
Me: Silence.
Mr. Amazing Man: M., are you there????
Me: Silence (secretly hoping he would shut the door and lock me up there until next week).
Mr. Amazing Man (to Captain Knuckle): Where is your mom?
Captain Knuckle: I don’t know.
Mr. Amazing Man: Well, why is the door to the attic still open?
Captain Knuckle: I don’t know, I think she took the dog for a walk.
Mr. Amazing Man: Gorgeous? Are you up there?
Me: More silence.

I could hear him pause, evaluate the situation and finally make the decision to climb up the stairs where he found me in a puddle. Being the gentleman he is, he offered me his clean handkerchief, sat next to me with his arms around me, and let me sob and whine and cry for another good half hour. Somehow, he eventually managed to calm me down and get me back downstairs without breaking any bones.

Today, he taught my Primary class for me because I simply could not face going to church. I know that the gospel is true, I really do. I love the beautiful things that have been taught to me in the temple. It’s just that some days…some days, the ache in my heart for you is bigger than all of that and I just can’t face the culture that convinced me I wasn’t enough and that you deserved better than me. Because damn it all – I was good enough for you. And today…today I just can’t face the culture that told me I wasn’t.

I am still trying to find where God was during those dark hours of my life when my sister died, the abuse came out (finally), and I ended up pregnant. I simply haven’t found an answer yet. I think God knows I have spent a lot of time looking for His fingerprints in my life at that point. Mr. Amazing Man tells me that He was there with me and I just have to trust him right now. I have to cling to his faith because I still don’t see God in the details, even all these years later.

M.

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