Life Is Messy

Much has happened in a rather short time for us. It began with a phone call from Kel's mission president (Murray) letting us know that Kel had 2 anxiety attacks. He gave us Kel's number and told us to call and talk to him. When he did, Kel spent most of the conversation sobbing, a completely melt down. This made us worry even more. After a few days, President Murray spoke to us again letting us know that the anxiety attacks had not ceased and after having Kel speak with the church psychologist, they were considering sending him home on a "mental medical." He stated that the mission was not equipped with handling this type of situation. A few days after that, Kel came home. He will be required to stay home and obtain treatment for his anxiety attacks for at least 6 months.

I wanted to write to record my feelings while they were still fresh. My reaction after the first notice was worry. Next comes the sadness at the possibility that Kel would come home; the sadness about what people would say and think. We tend to stigmatize our young men if they aren't perfect. After a good night's sleep, a day of fasting and prayer, I woke up happy. Yes, happy. I was happy that life was messy. A messy life makes me dependent upon the habits of scripture study, temple attendance, prayers, service, whereas having a perfect life, I might not be.

I became grateful for the many friends who reached out with desires to help, without judgment. I am profoundly grateful for a bishop who called Kel repeatedly (while on vacation cruising the Virgin Islands, no less), a stake president who was ready to support him and us, whatever the outcome, and a mission president who knew Kel needed help that would require him to return home.

I realized from this whirlwind emotional experience which began 7 days ago that though it would be nice to have a perfect life with perfect children, a messy life helps me, helps us to grow.

Kel is home. We will proceed to get him into a good doctor. He wants to return to his mission. He is worried and scared. In short, he isn't perfect . . . which is fine, since I only know of one person who is.