Insomnia

Teagen awoke at two this morning. I got up with him. He was pumped and ready for action; sleep just wasn't in the cards. I took him downstairs and rocked him in the old, squeaky rocking chair for awhile. He put his head on my shoulder (a tender mercy for sure). When I got up from the chair, his head went up, and again, he was ready to play. This went on for about half an hour until I knew all of his needs were met and put him back in bed.

I climbed back in bed at 2:36, but as has been the case recently, I couldn't sleep. The terrible thing is I let all of my guilty feelings take over for the things I just can't get to, or the things I've been neglecting lately. This morning, I knew I had to get up.

I am a morning person. I'm so wiped out by bedtime that many things are left undone, and I frequently wake to a messy house. As I climbed out of bed at 2:40, I knew what I had to do.

I am a strong believer in the blessings of keeping the Sabbath day holy but knew that would be impossible for the members of my family to do with the house in the condition it was, so I set in straightening the house. I quietly went from room to room and picked up.

The kids spent a long time folding laundry last night, but it was sitting in piles all over the family room floor. The sink was full of dishes. These were the two big jobs that needed to be done. I wiped counters and table and even found a tablecloth to put on the table. It just felt good to be all clean and straight as I faced the morning.

I climbed back into bed at 6:30 and slept until Zan left for Farmington Ward. I was dead to the world.

After he left, I climbed out of bed. I had gotten dressed when I was up in the middle of the night. My skirt was laying on the chair, so I pulled it on, went downstairs, got everyone organized and headed to Farmington Ward. I've tried, since Zan's been on the high council, to go hear him speak at every possible opportunity. I snuck in and sat in the farthest back corner I could. The speaker before Zan had just returned from the Japan Nagoya Mission. He finished by bearing his testimony in Japanese. I cried.

Zan did a wonderful job. No notes today; just heartfelt words and testimony. I love him so much! He's such a good man! He shared a story about his dad visiting him for a week while he was on his mission. I knew this had happened. I'd seen photos of them together on the dusty roads of Paraguay, but I had never heard specifics before. He said that his dad asked if he could share his testimony at the end of a discussion and that although the couple being taught didn't know a word of English and his dad not knowing Spanish, when he finished, the couple was in tears. That's just how the Spirit works, it transcends language. I cried.

I snuck out right after the closing prayer and hurried home. Zan didn't know I was there. When he came in, I said, "Good job today." He said, "It went okay, I guess." I laughed and said, "That was a statement, not a question." I told him how happy I was to hear the testimony in Japanese and Jonathan Buss' testimony about the Book of Mormon and how we sang "God Be With You Til We Meet Again" for the closing hymn. I think for a moment he thought I was prophetic. "Were you there?" he said. "You did a great job," I said again.

Sunday School was amazing. Zan had everyone fold a little booklet he had created for them, and we followed it as a guide to his lesson. He had a power point presentation. More important than all the fancy things he had prepared, the Spirit was there. It was excellent. As he taught, I saw all of the great things about him and felt very lucky (and quite honestly very inadequate) to be his wife.