Yesterday, our Sunday afternoon was pretty peaceful. Spencer napped. Landon and I worked on a little service project I decided to involve him in. We walked to Mel's house to get a bandaid for my ridiculous toe that WILL NOT HEAL. We came home and sat out on the back porch and soaked up the amazing weather. I bathed the boys (finally) and put them to bed. Mel offered to come watch the boys so I didn't have to wake them up to go get BK--huge relief! I made it to the airport and back to get him without incident, and life is back to normal.
I was thinking today about a couple of people I don't want to forget in my life, and so I felt the need to record it while I was thinking about it. We had the amazing opportunity to meet so many wonderful people while we lived in Midland during BK's PT school. Today I'll just tell you about two of them.
Our first bishop while we lived there was such a friendly guy. He and his wife invited our little family (me+BK+4 month old Landon) over for dinner immediately after we moved in. (New people were quite a novelty in this congregation!) He always had a smile on his face, and just made you feel happy when you were around him. His wife was apparently super-great at making bread, and so every week or so when she did, he asked her to bake a couple of extra loaves for him to deliver to people who had been on his mind. We received this blessed, warm-out-of-the-oven bread a couple of times during our 2 year stint in Midland, and it always came at a time when we really needed it. Not physically, but spiritually--just to know someone was thinking about us. I'll never forget that.
There was another man, who was in that bishopric who was legendary for "small" acts of service like this. While he was never assigned as a home teacher or anything to our little family, we would randomly come home to find a dozen donuts on our doorstep--because it was BK's birthday, or just because. He didn't leave his name on the donuts or anything, but somehow everyone in the ward knew that when you received a dozen donuts on your doorstep, it was from him. His wife had recently had huge health troubles, and life wasn't easy for them, but he didn't let that stop him from being such a Christlike example to so many. One time in particular, I was terribly sick while I was pregnant with Spencer. BK had to cook dinner every night because I couldn't stand up without throwing up. We were getting incredibly tired of frozen meals and everything else on BK's list of "things he could cook." But we figured there were so many more people worse off than us, and so we didn't ask for help.
Unannounced, this brother showed up at our doorstep with dinner. And not just a frozen Sam's casserole. It was dinner. A huge container of fried chicken. A huge container of corn on the cob. A salad. An entire watermelon. And dessert. My husband had never looked so grateful for a real meal. The leftovers lasted us several days--giving us a lovely break from frozen stir-fry. He didn't know of our struggle at the time, but he must've followed a prompting, and I'll never forget his kindness.
When the Lord answers our prayers, it is usually through other people. I want to be on the giving end of more of these experiences, as I have been blessed greatly in my life with those giving it to me.
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