Well, we are moved into our new place. It’s chilly down here, so chilly I’ve actually shivered. Shivers of chilly joy. The kitchen is mostly unpacked and I broke it in by making pancakes for breakfast. Pancakes of fluffy, warm joy. I actually have counter space and was able to pull out my electric griddle. That griddle has been lonely in its box for that last year or so. But no longer! It is sitting out in the cool basement air basking in light. Light of kitchen window joy.
We both needed showers this morning. We were stinky from the manual labor of yesterday, but were limited on time before church. So we showered simultaneously. . . in our own separate bathrooms. Bathrooms of clean, steamy joy.
I dried my hair and put on my makeup and dress. We opened our front door and, for once, the outside air was warmer than the inside. I heard angels singing above us. Angels of melodious joy. We pulled up to our old ward building as it began to sink in that this was our last Sunday there. We sat in the chapel and I fought back tears. Paul kept asking me what was wrong which only made those tears come faster. Tears of bitter-sweet sorrow. I opened my eyes wide to let the tears evaporate before they smudged my mascara. Paul said I should have passed on the make-up, but I was just thinking I should have used water-proof.
The intermediate hymn was a musical number by the youth, and I saw all my pupils sharing their testimonies in song. I knew I would miss my babies. I began to cry again, but I couldn’t hold back tears any longer. I was so grateful for the opportunity to teach those wonderful kids! Tears of grateful, blessed joy. I felt relieved to see one of the speakers on the stand bawling too, although probably for different reasons.
So much joy!
Tomorrow I start school again at BYU, and I am terrified. Can I do school and work and muscle my way though my last trimester of pregnancy which starts in three short weeks? I’m about to find out.