I walked into L—'s Primary class where I was substituting today and found the students crowded around Claire Nielsen who bounced her chubby baby sister, Miss Lottie, on her lap. I'd already felt strongly prompted to just relax and enjoy what the kids had to teach me today, so I extended my arms, took this delightful little angel to my hip and opened a gospel dialogue with the five eleven-year-olds who were present.
I think the trick to teaching is to prepare and then let the Spirit guide. It never fails that relevant topics, doctrines and discussion play off of each other to instruct all participants. And frequently, those who teach learn the most.
My husband made it to church, but he sat in the foyer for Sacrament Meeting, excusing himself later by insisting that he wanted to wait for his son should he arrive. We never waited in the foyer for him before when my step-son was late or if he might not show. I think shame still has fast hold on my husband.
I'm still processing emotions in response to the first year and a half of our marriage, uncertain how they will resolve. I don't miss my husband. I am happy without him. Happy. Even as he's tried to keep in contact over the last two or three days I've found my interest waning. I feel some guilt, but I don't know how he's supposed to fit in my life anymore. Forward momentum begins to build steam as I prepare for school in three weeks, and he gets lost in the fog of non-issues, which is oddly where I felt I resided while we were together. He is frustrated, I know. But I don't know how to resolve it. I see my life with him as stagnant and offering little. Perhaps that will change if we go to counseling. Perhaps it won't.
When I see him, I feel that something deep inside me has changed. I don't feel the same way about him. It worries me some. Probably because I don't know if what I have left to work with is enough to sustain the work it takes to be married.