… is always loyalty." -Jeffrey R. Holland
Jason's birthday is coming up and I am putting together a little something for him.
Jason's birthday is coming up and I am putting together a little something for him.
In doing so, I've been going through old pictures.
And friends' old pictures on Facebook.
And the fact that I myself am turning 28 next week is ever present in my mind as I think about all that has happened in my life since high school graduation.
So I spent the afternoon looking at pictures.
Remembering.
Smiling.
And feeling so grateful for my amazing friends.
Specifically the ones that have been around since I was 14.
You see,
Jason's friends in high school were my friends.
My friends were his friends.
Our circles ran together.
My best friends dated his best friends.
So Jason and I,
saw each other when said friends got married.
We spent luncheons and receptions talking and catching up,
updating each other on babies (me) and
dating news, school, and work (him).
Three particular instances stand out in my memory when I think about those wedding days,
at my three best friends' weddings.
The first:
The Jones' wedding.
Their luncheon was held in their parents backyard.
I brought Camden with me.
He was two months old.
As a newborn, he cried a lot.
The only way I knew how to get him to stop crying was to bounce him in my arms.
Hard.
I would often get strange looks at church when people saw me in the hallway practically jumping up and down to quiet my fussy child.
And I don't care what anyone says,
it was the only thing that worked.
{My mom can vouch for this one}
{And P.S. if you have a fussy baby, invest in a yoga ball. Sit and bounce. It's like magic. And it will save your back. Trust me on this one.}
At the luncheon he was fussing.
I lay him down in my arms and started to bounce.
Jason came over and said,
"Why are you bouncing so hard?! You're going to give your baby shaken baby syndrome!"
I told him it worked.
He didn't believe me.
So he took Camden.
He propped him up on his shoulder and walked away.
A few minutes later I looked over to see that Camden had fallen asleep.
And believe me when I say that had NEVER happened before.
Jason walked around with Camden sleeping on his shoulder while he talked to friends.
I just watched.
So grateful for his friendship, it almost brought me to tears.
Not only had he cared for me as a friend, he also cared for my son.
Who, by the way, he had just met that day.
Who, by the way, he had just met that day.
A couple weeks before this, the first big "crash" if you want to call it, happened in my marriage.
It was the first time I knew I was up against something huge.
I had been betrayed.
I was heartbroken.
He told me he didn't love me anymore.
He wasn't ready to be a husband.
Or a father.
An online relationship with a woman in California had stolen his attention.
And his loyalty.
Something that I would never feel again from him.
Something that I would never feel again from him.
Just before the luncheon, my best friend who was also a bridesmaid asked me what was wrong.
She knew something was up.
I told her what happened.
She hugged me while I cried.
Today I remembered how I sat in the sealing room that morning and listened to the sealer talk about love.
About righteousness.
About service.
Faithfulness, forgiveness, repentance.
I cried through the entire ceremony.
I recalled my sealing.
It had only been 12 months since I was sitting in that room
starting my forever family.
And it was all falling apart.
Today I remembered how I sat in the sealing room that morning and listened to the sealer talk about love.
About righteousness.
About service.
Faithfulness, forgiveness, repentance.
I cried through the entire ceremony.
I recalled my sealing.
It had only been 12 months since I was sitting in that room
starting my forever family.
And it was all falling apart.
So as I watched Jason holding my sleeping son,
I knew the people who surrounded me that day had my back.
No matter what.
11 months later, the second day I thought about today,
was the Foulger wedding.
It was the end of December.
Sitting at a table during the reception, Jason and I talked.
I shared new events that had transpired and expressed my unhappiness.
I wanted out, but I also wanted to do the right thing.
My emotions, my confusions, my hopelessness all came spilling out.
I needed his listening ear that night.
Him and another friend walked me to my car at the end of the night.
They hugged me.
I felt loved.
And I felt gratitude
For loyal friends that cared about me.
Fast forward 18 months, the last of my best friends was getting married.
She came to visit me a few weeks before her big day to give me my bridesmaid outfit.
At this time, Camden and I were living alone in a small apartment.
She told me she was sorry. She could tell I was unhappy and mentioned she rarely saw me smile anymore.
It was true.
Her reception was another one of those memorable days.
It was August.
I had been alone all summer.
I had big decisions to make in the next few weeks and the weight of it quite literally pushed me downward.
At a table with our friends, Jason and I again, sat and talked.
It was August.
I had been alone all summer.
I had big decisions to make in the next few weeks and the weight of it quite literally pushed me downward.
At a table with our friends, Jason and I again, sat and talked.
And for the first time in a really long time,
I genuinely laughed.
I remember laughing a lot.
And I danced.
I danced with the girls I had been friends with since before I had braces.
I had fun.
I felt joy.
I felt loyalty.
And again, I felt gratitude.
When Jason and I were dating and then engaged, we did not live in the same city,
so we would spend long hours on the phone at night talking.
It was during one of those calls, shortly before our wedding day, he told me a story.
After he returned from his mission, his parents took him to Hawaii to visit his sister and brother in law.
One day, he and his brother in law went out kayak surfing.
Without life jackets.
A giant wave launched them forward.
They both fell off and got separated from their boat.
And eventually each other.
They both fell off and got separated from their boat.
And eventually each other.
Jason recalled how at first, he swam leisurely toward their belongings now floating in the water,
gathered what he could carry, and with one arm, started toward the upside down boat.
5 minutes passed.
The boat was getting farther.
Another 5 minutes went by.
He ditched his armful and began to really swim.
He was a mile from shore.
They were in a bay and the waves were big.
And coming one on top of the other.
5 more minutes.
Panic set in.
He believed he was in a current that was pulling him out to sea.
He started thinking he was going to die.
His arms were tired.
His legs were tired.
And each time he tried to catch his breath, another wave crested over the top of him.
He had been swimming for his life for 15 minutes already, the shore not getting any closer to his view.
He started making promises to God.
To be better.
To be more faithful.
A better son. Brother. Friend.
To magnify his callings.
To be honest, true and good.
If God would just let him live.
He saw his brother in law in the distance.
He knew he was a better swimmer and would likely make it to shore.
Jason almost shouted,
"Tell my family I love them"
But then he didn't.
He didn't want his brother to know that he was going to die.
Jason knew that if his brother knew that,
he would have turned around to save him and that meant they would probably both die.
His brother had to live. He had a wife. And a new son.
He didn't want his brother to have to live with guilt if he DIDN'T turn around to save him.
Jason couldn't burden him with that choice, so he said nothing.
Swimming with what strength he had left,
he thought about his family.
About the house he had just bought.
He felt sorry that his parents now had to deal with the burden of it.
Promises had been made to God, but the shore wasn't getting any closer.
This was it.
He knew he was going to die that day.
But being the stubborn man that he is,
he wouldn't just give up.
He would die trying.
He would die swimming.
He opened his eyes under the water and saw sand 20 feet below him.
He looked ahead and saw that the sand rose.
It was still far.
But if he could just make it to a sand bar, he could rest.
So he kept swimming.
And then he saw rocks.
He was going to live.
He made it to those rocks.
On his tippy toes, his nose and mouth barely reached the top of the water.
As the waves came, he pushed himself off the rocks and rode the waves up and down, keeping his head above water and finally being able to catch his breath.
He regained some strength and made the swim back to shore.
He crawled out of the water on his hands and knees, not really sure how he had survived.
He recalled this story and then told me that now, 3 years after the fact, he understood why he made it to shore that day.
He told me how I was given special promises in the preexistence.
To be happy.
To be a mother and a wife.
To have a celestial family.
To be blessed.
My first husband had not been faithful to his covenants,
and in doing so, lost his family.
But because I had remained true,
my promises still remained.
He told me he lived because he was going to get the opportunity to be the one to fulfill those promises.
To give me the life I deserved.
To make me happy.
To make me a wife again.
To give me the chance to bear more children and raise them in this lifetime.
Heavenly Father spared his life for me.
And then he said,
"So in a very literal sense,
you are my soul mate."
I remember thinking how lucky I was.
I remember thinking back to all our phone and wedding reception conversations through the years, always expecting him to say he was seriously dating, going to propose or was already engaged.
He was amazing.
How was he still single?!
But as he finished his story,
telling me he knew we were absolutely meant to be together,
it all made sense to me too.
He was what I was promised.
Our special friendship,
those wedding moments I will never forget,
and the way, for 10 years, how our lives always remained connected in some way-
It was all meant to be.
gathered what he could carry, and with one arm, started toward the upside down boat.
5 minutes passed.
The boat was getting farther.
Another 5 minutes went by.
He ditched his armful and began to really swim.
He was a mile from shore.
They were in a bay and the waves were big.
And coming one on top of the other.
5 more minutes.
Panic set in.
He believed he was in a current that was pulling him out to sea.
He started thinking he was going to die.
His arms were tired.
His legs were tired.
And each time he tried to catch his breath, another wave crested over the top of him.
He had been swimming for his life for 15 minutes already, the shore not getting any closer to his view.
He started making promises to God.
To be better.
To be more faithful.
A better son. Brother. Friend.
To magnify his callings.
To be honest, true and good.
If God would just let him live.
He saw his brother in law in the distance.
He knew he was a better swimmer and would likely make it to shore.
Jason almost shouted,
"Tell my family I love them"
But then he didn't.
He didn't want his brother to know that he was going to die.
Jason knew that if his brother knew that,
he would have turned around to save him and that meant they would probably both die.
His brother had to live. He had a wife. And a new son.
He didn't want his brother to have to live with guilt if he DIDN'T turn around to save him.
Jason couldn't burden him with that choice, so he said nothing.
Swimming with what strength he had left,
he thought about his family.
About the house he had just bought.
He felt sorry that his parents now had to deal with the burden of it.
Promises had been made to God, but the shore wasn't getting any closer.
This was it.
He knew he was going to die that day.
But being the stubborn man that he is,
he wouldn't just give up.
He would die trying.
He would die swimming.
He opened his eyes under the water and saw sand 20 feet below him.
He looked ahead and saw that the sand rose.
It was still far.
But if he could just make it to a sand bar, he could rest.
So he kept swimming.
And then he saw rocks.
He was going to live.
He made it to those rocks.
On his tippy toes, his nose and mouth barely reached the top of the water.
As the waves came, he pushed himself off the rocks and rode the waves up and down, keeping his head above water and finally being able to catch his breath.
He regained some strength and made the swim back to shore.
He crawled out of the water on his hands and knees, not really sure how he had survived.
He recalled this story and then told me that now, 3 years after the fact, he understood why he made it to shore that day.
He told me how I was given special promises in the preexistence.
To be happy.
To be a mother and a wife.
To have a celestial family.
To be blessed.
My first husband had not been faithful to his covenants,
and in doing so, lost his family.
But because I had remained true,
my promises still remained.
He told me he lived because he was going to get the opportunity to be the one to fulfill those promises.
To give me the life I deserved.
To make me happy.
To make me a wife again.
To give me the chance to bear more children and raise them in this lifetime.
Heavenly Father spared his life for me.
And then he said,
"So in a very literal sense,
you are my soul mate."
I remember thinking how lucky I was.
I remember thinking back to all our phone and wedding reception conversations through the years, always expecting him to say he was seriously dating, going to propose or was already engaged.
He was amazing.
How was he still single?!
But as he finished his story,
telling me he knew we were absolutely meant to be together,
it all made sense to me too.
He was what I was promised.
Our special friendship,
those wedding moments I will never forget,
and the way, for 10 years, how our lives always remained connected in some way-
It was all meant to be.
 |
| The Foulger wedding |
