A great visit

After several months of praying for my visiting teacher to actually visit, I got a call on Tuesday from Peg, a sister in the ward I've admired since I first met her when we moved in. She had just been assigned to be my visitor teacher and wanted to come visit me, and tonight she came by.

I am embarrassed to say that I started crying when we started talking, because I was so grateful to have her come. Don't take this the wrong way. I am doing really well. I don't have any health problems right now, I absolutely love my job and our new ward is great. But sometimes I get lonely and really homesick for Idaho, and I just want a friend to talk to.

Peg is 60 and a grandmother of 12, and you wouldn't think she'd have much in common with me, a 25-year-old. But just within the 20 minutes she was at my home, we discovered that we both like scrapbooking and making cards, traveling (she just went to Tahiti with friends for her 60th birthday) and Snelgrove ice cream. She's super nice, and I feel a connection with her already.

I guess I'm just emotional today and missing my mom terribly, but I started crying again when Andrew got home from class and I told him I finally have a visiting teacher who will visit me each month. It's another witness to me that Heavenly Father answers prayers and gives the leaders of the ward inspiration, even when it's something as simple as assigning someone a new visiting teacher.

If you ever feel like you don't make a difference in someone's life, think again. I don't think Peg had any idea how much her visit meant to me today -- and I'll never know how much the ladies I visit each month look forward to knowing someone cares.

see

I have eyes to see, and so does everyone that I know. But how many times do we see without really seeing? How many times do we casually ask the question, "How are you doing?" without seeing the dried tears in a friend's eyes or the loneliness that is seeping out like a deflating balloon?

I sometimes feel like I'm invisible, like people see me but don't really see me. How can they? They have their own problems to worry about, like bills and family and work. They're not looking for another struggling person to take on. They've got a heavy load already. And I don't blame them.

Have you ever been kissed absently? I have. I've wondered how a kiss can mean so much to me and just be another touch, another part of the day, to someone else. I wonder how someone can dismiss a girl for being "high maintenance" but forget that all cars, even the nicest and smoothest-running ones, need a little oil every now and then. I wonder how you can get glasses and contacts to correct your vision, but you can look someone in the face and completely overlook the fact that they were once beautiful and special to you.

I don't wear contacts. I don't wear glasses. I don't need them. But I sometimes wish I had them to see things just a little more clearly at times. I wish I could slip on glasses and see the future. I wish I could see six months from now, and who I've become. But in that way, I'm blind as a bat.

The light is coming. I'm just in the tunnel right now.