I have been praying to know how to tactfully write about something I am faced with. I have it completely written candidly in my mind, but sometimes candid can be misunderstood.

When Ray was gone to basic training 18 months I had been told by the Lord to essentially end all social contact. I quit facebook, I closed my blog and I didn't answer phone calls from friends, I didn't respond in any way. I came to understand that the Lord wanted me to learn how to ultimately rely on him. It was very hard at first to not vent, or communicate within my normal social realms. With time though I found that he could better fill my voids. He could bless me with perspective and give me the strength to endure it all.

I had to rely essentially on people I didn't know that well for those 5 months he was gone. I did have contact with my sister-in-law Stephanie, my mother-in-law, the bishop and the relief society president.

For whatever reason, my health was not always the best while Ray was away. I ended up in the hospital every other week for various reasons. I have what is called ligamous laxity, which means that I have REALLY lose ligaments, and when I am pregnant they become like spaghetti noodles. Further along in pregnancy my joints actually grind together in my hip and back areas because the cartilage and ligaments become so thin. It is actually quite painful but once I have the baby it is reversed and my ligaments return to lose instead of transparent. I also experienced gall bladder problems which would cause uncontrollable vomiting and excruciating pain.

I was told by an individual that I should call if I ever had a need. The first two "needs" were outside jobs that were taken care of by the elder's quorum. When I asked for help doing a few tasks with in my home that required the bending and movement that was too painful for me I was told I was ungrateful. This person told me they wished they could ask for the same help, but she instead employed her children and just excepted what was. She told me I had not in anyway shown my appreciation for the help that had already been rendered, and that people in the ward were beginning to feel that I was taking advantage of them. I was immediately moved to tears. This woman's mother lives 5 minutes away. She has a husband who comes home to her everyday. She is saturated with family very close by. And the thank you....I didn't realize that services were dependent on the quality of my thank you. I was six months pregnant with my fifth. My kids unbeknowst to her were already doing more chores to help out because of my limitations. My husband was not just gone, but I only spoke with him about 5 to 10 minutes once a week, the rest of our communication happened in letters. My mother is not a part of my life. My sister in law has five kids and lives 45 minutes away. And even if I was in contact with my friends, the closest friend lives 90 minutes away. None of that was what mattered to me though. This woman obviously had a problem with me and I didn't even really know her. She was put in a position of trust and leadership, she was someone I was supposed to find refuge in, and instead I found insult and disdain. She hated me and I felt it the entire time my husband was gone.

One night I called out of desperation someone other than the bishop because he already helped so much, because I had been vomiting all day and was now throwing up blood clots and I really needed to get to the hospital. I was told that they could not help because they had hairs cuts they had to do that evening.

I didn't send out any thank you cards for any help that was given to me while he was away. Honestly I never thought about it. I had told them to their faces how much I appreciated their help. And really I was going through something so hard that I felt like I was doing good to be functioning. When I reflect on that time my heart aches. I was judged. Some of the judgments were told to my face, others I could just feel. Over and over I was told "call if you need anything" and I would and then I was told why the need could not be met, or how the person felt I could actually take care of it on my own, or how they just live with out the need being met, or a suggestion as to calling my sister-in-law. I felt like know one took a minute to try to see life through my eyes, instead I was told what to see.

Then this year, new leadership but same old same old.

So here I am. I am 31 weeks pregnant. My husband is once again gone. Stephanie is actually even more tied up than before because her sister's, Rachel, baby has leukemia at six months old and so she helps out with Rachel's three older girls. These past couple of days my blood pressure has been elevated and today is was high. I had toxemia with Aspen, and so I could very easily get it again. On my way to the doctors today I cried the whole way. I didn't want it to be so high that they sent me to the hospital. When I go to the doc I leave some home and take some with me, so as to not inconvenience anyone. I have a fear, a deep and overwhelming fear of having to ask for any help. I don't think I could handle another 'rejection' in regards to my needs. Maybe people have an opinion about my needs. Maybe they think they could be avoided, or I 'should' do this or I 'should' do that. But the last time I checked every Sunday we make covenant to take upon us the name of our Savior, and I KNOW he is not judging me.

I have been praying all day that the Lord would stay any hike in my blood pressure until Ray returns next Saturday. Over and over today I heard the words of one who has been called to lead, that I have been the most needy out of every one in this ward and that I have exhausted those resources. If 12 hours of service after my tonsillectomy exhausted resources I can't even imagine what me being hospitalized for toxemia or high blood pressure would do.

I don't need hand outs. I don't want pity either. But just a little sincere Christ-like love and service and concern would go along way. I am not so narcissistic as to think they everyone should drop their lives for me. I just ask to be loved and cared for in the same manner that anyone would want to be. In the end our opinions won't matter. The Lord is never going to ask you what you though about so and so and all those dinners you brought. He is just going to allow you the chance to see where your heart was at each and every time you served. Service isn't about agreement or liking or approving of the services being rendered is about our heart and what direction it is ultimately facing.