My life is currently in a bit of an upheaval, with quite a bit of uncertainty and frustration and anxiety. (Believe it or not, it involves aliens from outer space and the CIA. Never let it be said that when my life blows up in my face, it isn’t interesting. If we meet in person at a bloggersnacker or other in-person event, I’ll share the sordid tale. By then I may even be able to laugh about it.) (And if you know of anyone looking to hire a totally awesome technical/scientific writer with almost 10 years of experience, please direct them my way. I’m looking for a new job.)
So anyway, with things falling apart, it seemed like a good time to get a priesthood blessing.
But in order for that to happen, I needed to deal with my discomfort about asking. Who do I ask? I have no idea who my home teachers are, if any are even assigned. Though my bishop is a great guy and I adore him as bishop, I don’t want to bug him because, well, he’s bishop and thus busy. A friend perhaps? Uncertainty over who isn’t too busy or dealing with their own drama kept me at bay. I have no doubt that people would be totally willing if asked, but I’m hopelessly insecure about such things. I know this is a failing of mine, but it’s not proving so easy to get over it.
But then the stars aligned – or something. My bishop was aware of the drama because I’d emailed him when all hell broke loose and there was a possibility I would be making a hasty departure from this area, and then I’d updated him when things resolved without the worst happening (thank heavens). A very kind man, he asked if I wanted to talk about it all. And I did, which isn’t normally like me (I’m not much of a social creature), but the whole thing had been rather traumatic. Thus we spent some time talking on Sunday afternoon, and I got up the nerve to ask for a blessing. And it was just what I needed.
I have frequently been amazed at things I’ve been told in priesthood blessings, things that directly addressed concerns that the person giving the blessing knew about, but also things that I hadn’t told anyone. Sometimes I doubt and wonder if I’m more transparent than I think, or the person giving the blessing is just very perceptive, and yet sometimes I just can’t deny the feeling and the fact that there seems to be more there. It leaves me grateful for the priesthood in my life, even if I give into fear and don’t take advantage of it as often as I could.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if everybody did their home teaching the way it’s supposed to be done and your home teachers came by regularly and asked you, without your prompting him, “would you like a blessing?” The Church is perfect but the members are very imperfect. But I’m glad to see it all worked out in the end. Sounds like you have a great bishop.
Good for you Tanya.I am glad that you found some peace. I am sorry for your struggles, I hope that you find resolution soon. Your story sounds interesting despite your vague inferences. Perhaps what-ever-space-aliens-meets-the-CIA would make a great novel?
Hasty departure?
Aliens?
The CIA?
Julie, sometime we’ll just have to meet so you can hear the tale.
As something that is administered through we who are imperfect, blessings aren’t always like you described, but I have had enough experiences like you describe (on both the giving and receiving ends) that there is no doubt in my mind of a power beyond my comprehension. I also know completely and fully that my second son would not be alive today if not for the power of priesthood blessings.
A man in our ward whom I admire GREATLY – who lost a daughter unexpectedly – said once, “I am grateful for the peace God provides in our times of deepest agony. I just wish I had not had to gain that peace in the way I did.” I am glad you had this experience, even if I can’t be glad you had to have it after what brought it to you.
Wow there must be more weird stuff going out at Dugway than I thought.
Hang in there, Tanya!