I'm sitting in the foyer at church. It's quiet except for the excited shouts of babies and a general sound of shuffling while white-shirted young men pass the sacrament. I remember when those boys were my age or just a little older. I remember looking at them and thinking they were cute and hoping that one or another would get my row. I remember getting older and thinking they were babies, surprised at how young they looked. And now, with Derek as my mind's measurement, they look so big again.
Derek is with Bobby at the state fair today--which is why I'm in the foyer.
Most of the time, I think, I almost convince myself that I'm only coming to church for Derek...but I listen to the scriptures when I'm alone in my car. Do I do that for him? And here I am without him today. I'm just not quite brave enough to walk into the chapel alone.
Why am I so afraid to admit, even just to myself, that I might be coming back to church for myself too?
Share your faith, not your doubts.
I heard that once and it seemed to make sense--but I'm not sure if that leaves me with anything to share. Do I have faith? Do I have a testimony? I know I have hope. I hope the gospel is true. I hope I'm not chasing a work of fiction. I hope I'll see my dad again someday. I hope someone is listening to my prayers. But maybe that's not quite right--I hope someone is listening, it's true, but I do absolutely believe in prayer. So I guess I have two things. Prayer and hope. I just hope that's enough for now.
I've accepted a calling as a primary teacher. What will I do on the Sundays when Derek is not with me? Will I be able to face the three-year-olds without my own little boy?