I had just moved to a new area with my husband and my daughters, ages 4, 3, and almost 1. The following Sunday we went to our new ward, and as they always did, the asked me, as a new member, they asked me to introduce myself, and I said my name, where I moved into, and quietly took my seat. I didn't feel comfortable, being a stranger, to ask for help. I had been to the doctor 2 weeks earlier to have them look at a cyst in my neck. They were afraid it could be cancerous, and had scheduled me for surgery to remove it a few days after our move. So, I sat there, feeling very venerable, very scared, and yet very alone. But I had always been one who didn't like to ask for help, so I didn't. I sat, smiled, and pretended not to have a care in the world.
Three days later, I underwent surgery. Everything went well. They removed the cyst, found only one "precancerous" cell, and sent me on my way. Now, I would hate for anyone to misunderstand. I felt incredibly blessed. I was so happy that I had not been given news that I would be going through horrible treatments, or would have an expected shorter life where I wouldn't be able to see my little ones grow. But the surgery did take its toll. The next day, as I watched my three little ones, I tried to take my first bites after surgery. My neck was so swollen, I quickly discovered, anything that needed to be swallowed in any form other than a liquid was going to cause too much pain. Also, the intubation had caused my inner throat to be very sensitive, and the fruits I had bought to make smoothies were too acidic, and stung. So I sat very, very hungry, in pain both in my stomach, hadn't eaten in about 36 hours, and my swollen neck, crying, and feeling a bit overwhelmed and depressed.
Then a knock came on my door. I answered, and a woman I had not remembered ever meeting. She stood there with a very, very large serving bowl, of what I could only describe at that point as a greenish brownish goop. She told me she hoped she wasn't bugging me, but that morning she had felt very strongly like she needed to make a veggie soup. She didn't know why, but she did. Then, she felt like she should run the veggie soup through the blender. Again, she didn't know why. But then she felt like that "new sister" needed it, but once again didn't know why. There stood a woman with a huge bowl of veggie soup, on my doorstep. She proceeded to ask why my neck was, in essence, looking like I was wearing a partial costume for a mummy. I told her what was going on, and she asked what else she could do to help. I told her I was fine, and the soup was more than I could ever ask for. Well, she didn't listen to that, being the kind of woman she was. That evening, I was told, by another sweet neighbor, to expect dinners coming for the next 5 days. I was also told they were looking for people to help with my children so I could sleep. I had visitors dropping by constantly with dinner, fresh baked bread, treats, games for the kids, and to simply sit and check on me. I had random babysitters. And every day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I would have a bowl of veggie soup.
After a week had past, I was feeling somewhat better, still tired. I was amazed at the love and service that had been given me. I sat and wondered if there was anything else that these wonderful neighbors could have done for me, and decided there was nothing! They had done it all! While the children were all taking a nap, I decided to be a "good patient" and take a nap. Well, about two months before this all happened, I had undergone surgery where my meniscus in my knee had been repaired. Climbing into bed, I re tore my meniscus. I was instantly unable to bend or unbend my knee, and because of my previous experience, I knew walking would be very difficult until I once again underwent surgery. Do I need to mention that these wonderful people once again took care of me while I recovered from that surgery.
It is funny. I have heard people say that miracles no longer exist, if they even ever did. I have heard people say if God cared for them, or wanted them to believe, He could send them a miracle. I have heard people ask how anyone in the scriptures could stray after they had a "miracle of that magnitude" occur. I think back to this time of my life. There is no doubt God could have sent an angel to tell me I would make it. He could have sent an angel to testify of how much He loved me. However, would it have been any more of a miracle than to send a sweet woman, with a big bowl of green goop? And could He make me any more aware of His love for me, than to send exactly what I needed when I needed it?
I now try to live my life as a woman with a bowl of green goop, trying to do whatever God can ask for me to show my love for others, even when I may not know what they need.
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