But sometimes, God does notice us and while watching over us, He meets our needs himself in small little blessings throughout day.
In May we moved from Logan to Salt Lake into my parent's basement. I was 8 months pregnant and we only moved about a quarter of our things, the rest was in storage to move to Pullman, WA at the beginning of August. It was sad and stressful to leave Logan, it was frustrating to not have all my things with me, and while I am so grateful for my parents in letting us stay in their basement, it's stressful to live in someone else's space. The birth of my 2nd child was quickly approaching and I had to decide if I was going to have a repeat c section or try for vaginal birth. While I was leaning towards the c section, it felt as if everyone thought that was the worst idea ever and I felt like a bad person for wanting it. Stressful. My first was 21 months old. Stressful. Things like insurance, student loans, getting housing and everything else for Pullman figured out, worrying about the new baby, worrying about how Eliza would handle it, and life in general.... Stressful! I wish there was a stronger word to use.
I was exhausted. I wasn't sleeping in my bed, with my pillows, with my sheets... and I was 8 months pregnant with a body that was falling apart.
So exhaustion + hormones + stress=
Here's the word so many people are afraid of...ANXIETY.
And my anxiety became depression. I was depressed. I didn't want to get out of bed, I didn't want time to move forward because that meant change. And change was the last thing I needed or wanted.
I prayed. Not very well though. Laying on my side briefly mustering up a few thanks and a few requests before painfully drifting off into an uncomfortable sleep.
Scripture study was even worse. I'd get at least a verse but if it was more than that my weary brain would wander into other territory.
Despite my lack of effort, despite how little I was trying to connect to God, He still blessed me. I've always believed that blessings follow obedience. But I was not doing the little things that usually bring the spirit into my life and allow me to feel close to God. In fact, I didn't feel close at all. And I didn't really feel like trying.
But every day, multiple times a day, I felt God's love for me. Every day I heard that still small voice whisper to me over and over, "I know this is hard. I know you're doing everything you can and I know you don't feel like it's enough. And I love you. I love you so much, I will take care of you. I will get you through this."
I always meant to write down the little blessing that happened but never got around to it. They were so minuscule that I can't remember most of them now.
But one I do remember: I was on the phone for something and received bad news about that something (pregnancy/newborn brain has caused me to lose the details). I hung up about to break down in tears but I noticed I'd gotten an important e-mail I'd been waiting for at that exact time. Such a little thing, but I knew that God was on my side and no matter how many frustrating phone calls it took, everything would work out for me.
Another time I went to the grocery store and found exactly what I needed on the first time down the aisle. Some people might not think that's a big deal. But it was to me. It was huge in that moment. That's exactly what I needed.
Little blessings. Every day. God was watching over me. And I know he loves me. Now I'm in a much better place and am able to pray, read, and serve with more fervor and the blessings just keep coming. Because He is my Father and I know he loves me. I know he loves each and every one of us. He is constantly pouring blessings out because we are our children. Even though we aren't perfect, even though life gets us down, he is always there for us. Always.
