Fourth Floor, Last Door and other thoughts

Every six months before our church's worldwide general conference, I review the addresses from the previous conference, look over the notes I took, look at goals I have made for myself, and then I review my life situation, look for questions to which I need answers, and spiritually prepare myself to receive inspiration. It's a rewarding and yet difficult process of introspection.

A few days ago, I listened to a talk that I actually had missed due to illness from the women's session of our last conference. Women's session is always my favorite. I leave feeling like I walk on water, can do no wrong, and should eat cake on a throne every day. 

Yes, I got the shirt to go with it. You can get one here. And then thank me for finding it and Melissa Radke for being amazing!

But, I digress. President Dieter Uchtdorf, one of the members of our church presidency, gave this amazing talk entitled, "Fourth Floor, Last Door." You can read it here. At the beginning of the discourse, he states, "Now, some of you might not feel worthy of such high praise. You might think you are too insignificant to have a meaningful influence on others. Perhaps you don’t even consider yourself a “woman of faith” because you sometimes struggle with doubt or fear." Those who have followed this blog know that I am this person. So, of course, I sobbed and sobbed. 

He then discussed that when we doubt, when we don't get the answers we are seeking, when we are alone, in the dark, when we are so overwhelmed and have more than we can handle, rather than listening harder, we should listen differently for inspiration, guidance, answers, and help. 

And that late night, worrying about my OBGYN appointment the next day, doomed to a lifetime that I knew I would hate, a lightbulb went off. Not in my brain, not on my nightstand, but in my spirit, the light turned on! I needed to listen differently. God had a plan for me, he answered, he showed it to me, but I didn't listen correctly. I remained fixed on having my ducks in a row, or even resigned to having them fenced in my yard, but he wanted them in a pond - a beautiful pond full of lily pads and fish, surrounded by cattails and daffodils and tulips and all the beautiful shade trees I could ever want! I wanted the city and he wanted a beautiful spring garden.

Three hours later, I got up and with new, expanded vision, I went to my doctor's appointment. I still had no job, no fertility, and was looking at years of education and student debt, but the sky seemed bluer, the trees greener, and the sun brighter than I'd ever seen it, and for the first time in months, I felt that I could trust God to open a tiny window. I might have to eat fruits and veggies and chicken for a while to fit through that window, but He was going to open it. And I was okay with that option. EARTH SHATTERING!

For some reason, Dr. Reddington's office was slammed. I arrived early and waited. And waited. And waited. Soon enough, those feelings of doom and devastation began to sink in again. I fought to suppress them with all my might. Finally, the medical assistant called my name, and I went back to a room. Dr, Reddington walked in soon enough, and she gave me a big hug. Just in case some people reading this don't know, doctors don't usually hug. She then told me that I have another fibroid by my bladder and intestines, but she wants to wait to do surgery until she can get the specialized oncologist to operate with her, and if I'm not in too much pain, we'll watch things for a few months. I told her, "I'm all surgeried out right now anyway." 

What happened next almost made me fall off the examining table half naked. She asked about my current plans, and I told her about my last job experience and that I'd decided to go back to school. She commented on the absurdity of people expecting employees to be miserable at work. We laughed about it. She then said, "I need a receptionist. I don't want to question your wellness or offend you, but I need someone who can be here every day. Do you think you can do that?" I explained to her that I needed a reason to get out of bed every day, and that I needed the income. She responded that she figured that was probably the main issue and asked if I could speak with her office manager before I left. I, of course, felt the need to reassure her that I am incredibly smart and a very fast learner. 

She said, "Aimee, I know that. Do you think I would offer you the job if I didn't? Besides, I know Kristi. I know your family. I just want to make sure I'm not setting you up for failure."

She left the room, and I sat there, reeling. I thought, What in the world? Who goes to their OBGYN and comes out of the appointment with a job offer? This just doesn't happen! I talked to Melanie, the office manager, and we agreed to a working interview so I could make sure the job was something I could handle. I went in yesterday, and of course, the office staff are great, the environment is great, and the timing is great. 

This is the best thing - it forces me to face my grief head on. I'll see women and children every day. I'll see pregnant women every day. I'll deal with them every day. I've been paralyzed by grief. This is my worst nightmare becoming my life, and now I can work through it in a positive manner. This is my window.