Babysitting, Interrupted by a Miracle

 Hi, friends!  

It's been a crazy month and I am 4 weeks behind on this blog, but I am giving myself grace because it was unusual in almost every way.  It was also lots of fun, with a few pivotal mistakes, some brave risks taken, some miracles, reunions, and farewells, and a war.  So buckle up! We'll start with my ten days as a Momstitute.  

From  February 15-24 I watched the Properzi kids, Julia, Kristian, and Noemi Their parents were going to Greece with Frank and the BYU Jerusalem study abroad group, and I had offered to stay back from the trip and be their substitute guardian so their mom, Larissa, could go along.  Frank was supportive, and we planned that I would go to Greece in a future semester.  I have babysat them several times before, so I knew I was in for a treat with some great teens.  

Together we brainstormed a full week: beach day, in-center friend day, cave day, suspension bridge day, zoo day, then two school days.  

All was set, and I was excited about such a great week.  I was going to be the funnest adopted aunt ever!    But the day before the Greece group left, I started feeling unexplainedly week and short of breath.  I typically have low blood pressure, so I tried hydration and increased salt, which helped at first.  

As I was saying goodbye to Frank on Sunday, I was again struck with fatigue, shortness of breath, and pain in my lungs.  It was getting worse.  This was alarming to me because I had so much responsibility in the coming week, and so many active plans, requiring lengthy drives and hiking, and suddenly I found myself unable to even walk down the 4 flights of stairs to the Properzi's apartment.  By this time my prayers were getting serious.  If I needed to get to urgent care my choices were narrowing.  Half of the adults in the center had just left, with all but one couple set to join them in a few hours.  

As I was praying and pondering and moving sloth-like through a long list of tasks, I got a text from Frank that he had arrived in Greece but his suitcase had gotten broken in the baggage handling process. 

 Could I please take our other small suitcase up to the main office on level 7 so someone in the second wave of travelers could bring it to him?  So another task was on my list, this one involving stairs.  Ordinarily I would have bounded up and delivered it up two flights of stairs in no time.  But now I was metering my energy outlay, consciously planning how to take the fewest possible steps before I could rest.

I was still praying, still stewing, should I go to urgent care?  It is a crazy long process here.  It would take the rest of the day, take me away from my commitment to these teens, and lengthy medical tests may not find anything.  I had fainted before, sometimes related to my cycles, so this could be just a weird hormonal thing and not worth a medical visit.  

Or what if they found something serious?  What if  this was very serious!  What if this was a heart attack?  Female heart attack symptoms are hard to decipher, according to Dr. Google.  I had a few possible symptoms but not enough to know for sure.  Or a blood clot.  Dr. Google was starting to freak me out.  The thought that this could be the end for me was starting to creep in the corners of my mind.  This sounds dramatic, but I was on the verge of being really concerned. 

I dragged myself and the empty suitcase up two long flights of stairs, literally stopping to rest along the way. As I did, just like Alma the Younger, my mind caught hold of a hopeful thought, a heaven-sent thought.  There was still time for a priesthood blessing before everyone left the building a few hours from now.  I knew that even as he was preparing to leave, our director Shon Hopkin would be willing to give me a blessing if I asked.  So as I gave him the empty suitcase, I asked for a priesthood blessing, and he of course said yes.  Bless his heart, he didn't even glance at his watch, which I probably would have done in his shoes!

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, a priesthood blessing basically means that a holder of the priesthood anoints, or pours a drop of consecrated oil on the head of the sick person, then puts their hands on the head of the person and offers a prayer for their healing.  It amplifies the power of faith and prayer, and I needed some extra power right now!  

After talking with me about how I was feeling, physically and emotionally, Shon administered a drop of oil.  As he did, I was transported in my mind to the temple.  I was in the initiatory booth, clothed in white with my temple worker's nametag, administering a drop of oil to a sister who had come to the temple seeking power from God.  I saw myself with my hands on that sister's head, speaking sacred words, promising her clarity, strength to match earthly burdens, and hope for heavenly protection.  When I was serving in the temple, I had officiated in this priesthood function as an authorized representive of God's love for his beloved daughters.  I had symbolized God's hands pouring out blessings upon the heads of other women.  

And now it was my turn to claim those blessings.  The prayer went on to plead for physical strength and healing, as well as an outpouring of peace, which I felt clearly.  Then I was promised help from earthly helpers as well as heavenly ones.  This thought transported me again, but to the distant past, to a family miracle that happened before I was born.  

Almost a century ago, my maternal grandmother Ruth South Soderborg was a social worker working at a residential facility for women in New York.  Several of the women had been upset over living conditions (probably justified) and they were staging a demonstration that was about to turn violent.  Ruth was sent in to calm the women specifically because she was a believer in Jesus Christ.  As the lock to the cottage door clicked behind her, she saw a circle of angry faces and prayed, "Lord, you have been in tougher spots than this, but I haven’t; so, will you please take over from here?”  And although she, too, was physically weak, Ruth asked the women to teach her to dance, and with God's help she danced with the women until they were calm enough to sleep and the crisis was averted.  I wish I could report that living conditions for the women improved, but we don't get that part of the story.  At least Ruth survived to become my grandmother!  You can read her story here.

As I heard the promise of help from the other side of the veil, I knew that the same God who helped my grandma Ruth-- despite her weakness --could help me now.  And if it was in her power, I was sure my grandmother would be with me in spirit, too.  She was drawn to those who needed help and support.  I see her personality in my daughters.

So after the blessing, I headed back downstairs, noticeably strengthened.  I walked steadily, still slowly, but with a stronger stride and more confidence.  I finished my tasks, headed to the Properzi's apartment, and with the help of some cooperative teens, some serious hydration, and a few extra naps, I was able to make it through Sunday.  If my grandma could face an angry mob armed with butcher knives, surely I could face 4 flights of stairs!

By Monday I was at about 75% capacity and ready to be the party aunt again.  But moving forward, I had a sense of being watched over, that God can calm the storm inside me, and that when it's His will, he can heal me.  I don't need a miracle every week, or even every emergency.  Later this same week, I lost my phone (spoiler), and despite prayers, that miracle didn't happen.  I never did find my phone.  But that's okay.  But the miracle is that when I was low, I was able to remember that God is my strength, that I could turn to him and trust the outcome.