Sick

Not one day this month has passed that I have not been sick. Some days very sick. Other days more mild. And on those mild days, it has been little ones or my husband, or both, who have been so very sick.

It is hard not to think about the questions of what took my little ones' lives. It is hard not to worry that the potential of an underlying condition could complicate what would be a mild illness to some, and not wonder if death is looming over our family once more waiting to reach in to take more away from us. Sitting here, unaware of the unseen. Uncertain.

Yet, none of it has turned life threatening so far. And I try to take solace in that, until I think about how well the doctors thought Bridget and Dominic were doing in those days just before their Saturdays. Their September 8ths. They hadn't even been sick. And there is no peace.

Last night, we waited. Our home teachers were to come at five o'clock. We waited, and I had a list. Because they often will say, "is there anything we can do for you?" And in the hurriedness of the question they ask as they already have one foot out the door, I can't compose my thoughts in time to respond. So I wrote down a list. A few incidental things, and finally, "Blessing."

Five o'clock came. The priests hadn't come with the sacrament. Would our Home Teachers really come? Then six o'clock came. The phone rang. He acted as if there never was an appointment made. Said he'd talked with my husband last week about maybe coming and that he thought he had said today would be a good day. He had talked to me last week, and we had set the time for five o'clock. Oh well. He asked if seven thirty wouldn't be too late. I invited them to come. Then my oldest who had been so very sick was now violently ill.

Still, the knock at the door came. There was only one man, without a companion. Immediately, my mind went to the bottom of my list. "Blessing." We were sick. My oldest's illness had escalated and I was becoming more concerned for her. My husband hadn't had a blessing in many months. I couldn't lay my hands on his head. And alone, this man could not either.

And now behold, my beloved brethren, I say unto you, do not suppose that this is all; for after ye have done all these things, if ye turn away the needy, and the naked, and visit not the sick and afflicted , and impart of your substance, if ye have, to those who stand in need—I say unto you, if ye do not any of these things, behold, your prayer is vain, and availeth you nothing, and ye are as hypocrites who do deny the faith. (Alma 34:28)

It is always the same companion who doesn't come: the Bishop. I am sure he has many duties and obligations. But ours, as home teacher of our family, is one he committed to. The last time I saw him was over a month ago when I ran into him in the grocery store. And the very brief conversation was about store policies and location within city boundaries. When a clerk asked if we knew each other, he just casually responded, "we're neighbors."

And who is my neighbour?

And Jesus answering said, A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead.

And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side.

And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side.

But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him,

And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him.

And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.

Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?

And he said, He that shewed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise. (Luke 10:29-37)

No mercy has been shewed on us. It has been six months since this man has come to our home. We were left sick, "passed by on the other side." Now, so literally sick, and how my mind is still a little sick from when Bridget died. My heart so very sick.

I asked the man who came why the Bishop never comes with him. Why we never see him otherwise. He tried to give this excuse or that excuse of how busy he is or how other responsibilities are just a priority. Then he conceded he had no good answer.

Then said he unto him, A certain man made a great supper, and bade many:

And sent his servant at supper time to say to them that were bidden, Come; for all things are now ready.

And they all with one consent began to make excuse. The first said unto him, I have bought a piece of ground, and I must needs go and see it: I pray thee have me excused.

And another said, I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to prove them: I pray thee have me excused.

And another said, I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come.

So that servant came, and shewed his lord these things. Then the master of the house being angry said to his servant, Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor, and the maimed, and the halt, and the blind.

And the servant said, Lord, it is done as thou hast commanded, and yet there is room.

And the lord said unto the servant, Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled.

For I say unto you, That none of those men which were bidden shall taste of my supper. (Luke 14:16-24)

And then the inevitable wrap-up-the-discussion question-- more a closing than any open-to-answers-inquiry, "is there anything I can do to help?" And the hurt part of me wanted to forget that I had a list and let him be on his way. But the sick part of me yearned for healing. The need of my family weighed on my mind. And I lamented out loud that he alone could not lay his hands on the head of my husband, and such is the necessity of a companion. He heard me out as I went down the list I had. Then we called another neighbor, one that has answered and come for this request in the past, and they came and gave blessings to the sick and afflicted.

We are not yet healed. No quick miracle. I wonder of this long-suffering we are enduring. How it interferes with our capacity to reach out to others. To even move forward in our efforts to attend church again. And what could be the purpose of it? Have we not already endured enough? In the blessings, I'd hoped to hear words to comfort me that there would be rest, at least for a short season. But instead, I wonder now what is yet to come. And yet, I also was reminded, in Hope, of that which is yet to come. A day of reunion. When I will have the opportunity to be with Dominic and Bridget again. When our family can be joined in whole. And none of us will ever again be sick.