Just the other day I was telling The Husband I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. (Is that an oxymoron - small overwhelmed?) Next thing I know I'm in the thick of it again. And I'm thinking this calling: compassionate service leader is a misnomer. I'm feeling less compassionate than I should. (And I amended that sentence multiple times so as to not sound like an old grump, which makes no sense because that's exactly what I am!!)
Received a call last minute to accompany a cello for our Sacrament program this coming Sunday. 5 days to learn a tough song. Of course I said yes. That's the fun stuff - even though those first two days I spend over three hours practicing (my aching back!!) Had a practice session with the cellist yesterday (he's like 14 I think) and I think it'll be a very nice addition to the meeting. (Though I'm questioning how people like the choir director live their lives so last minute. It's inconsiderate of other people to always request help at the last minute because they haven't planned ahead.)
Not twelve hours later I'm getting texts asking me to help with the music for a funeral. The list was lengthy - organ prelude and postlude and special musical numbers because the mom had requested "lots and lots" of music for her funeral. And this funeral also is in our ward so I'm on the hook for the meal and all that entails: table setting up, ordering and picking up the ham, and all the other food-stuff assignments and purchasing, the flowers for the center of the table, hanging around for hours till the grave has been dedicated and the family returns for the meal and the inevitable mini-family reunion, then the building clean up, table taking down, floors clean, dishes returned, and tablecloths (seemingly endless tablecloths!) washed and dried.
I wandered the house in a daze trying to figure out what to do. My heart was in my shoes. How can I do all of this? Then not a couple hours later I'm receiving yet another requisition to arrange meals for another sister in the ward who has finally been insurance approved for a cochlear implant. I'm so pleased and happy for her.
And practically the very worst thing for me is to ask anyone to do anything! I just shudder when I contemplate that kind of task- it's no wonder my stomach is full of acid all the time. How do I do this?
I said no to all the music for the funeral save for one specific song I'll accompany (still waiting for the music). No idea how many practice hours it'll take me to learn/polish this song, with Christmas in the middle and all the other stuff going on.
Truly, I cannot remember the last time I said no to anyone. I know I must have. But I try and try not to ever say no. And she was gracious about it. Said she was grateful I consented to play the one number. I still feel guilty. But I simply can only do so much. And yes, I'm tired.
Still, though, grateful. Grateful that we were warmly welcomed to visit our son and daughter-in-law for a bit on Christmas Eve afternoon. Grateful that there are those who say yes to help even when their lives are busy. Grateful for a husband who never ever hesitates to help - whoever, whenever, however he can. Such a great man. And my hero. I'm grateful for a movie from the library to watch if I can even find an evening to sit and relax before it's due. And I'm grateful that at some point compassionate service leader will be another sister's pleasure. :^)
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