Released

(Soooooo random, but this was the super-healthy meal we were eating when the Bishop called at 8:30 pm Thursday and said, "Something has come up, can I come over?" I don't think I'll ever think of our hilarious drive-thru night again without remembering how I nearly threw it all up when he said I was going to be released, haha!)

I was three months pregnant with Cora when I was called to serve in the newly-reorganized Relief Society Presidency in our ward. We were still new to Los Angeles and I felt lonelier and less connected than I've ever felt in my life. I had no idea at the time how this calling would change my experience in this city and in this ward; I had no idea how it would change my life. I dove in feet first, fully committed to giving all of my time, all of my energy, all of myself to this new responsibility. I started meeting others and serving others, and oh my goodness did I start loving others. When Coco joined our family, she became the Relief Society mascot and from day one accompanied me on all of my service adventures. I heard that someone in Elders Quorum joked a few weeks back that no one in the ward served more than Cora because she was always on my hip as I ran around doing my duty, and I laughed so hard because it's true. That baby has been such an angel and has allowed us to do so much good. All of my kids have, really. They've logged more hospital and nursing home visits, more storehouse runs, more meal and relief deliveries, more babysitting jobs, more hours spent patiently waiting for Mom to get off another phone call then just about any group of kids I know. Wigginton's are helpers, and boy do they know it! I love them for being my wingmen. 

Now, after nearly three years of serving, serving, serving, I am being released. James was just called as the new Ward Mission Leader and I've been asked to serve by his side. I'm thrilled for him because he is so faithful and so good and with him at the helm, I know amazing things will happen. But if you want to know the truth, I'm still mourning my release just a little. In my experience, being released from a calling allows you to see how much it's become a part of you, and Relief Society and I have become so intertwined that it's hard to determine what is me and what is my calling. It's uncomfortable and actually really sad to think about letting it go. I keep telling myself that my feelings are valid and the sadness I feel is actually a beautiful indication of how much I've loved the women around me. It would be tragic if I wasn't a little heartbroken, right? Because how lucky have I been to have a birds eye view of all the amazing ways the Westwood women care for one another? I've seen miracles. I've seen the hand of the Lord. I know without a doubt that our Savior is real and that He loves us all and I've gotten to know Him so much better over the last three years. I love Him. I love our Relief Society. I will truly miss being in the mix of it all. 

That being said, I know myself well enough to know that I'm proooooobably going to keep busy, I hope so anyway. I'm a doer through and through and I hope jumping into this new calling feet first feels as natural as my last opportunity did. I recently found a quote by Marjorie Hinckley and afterwards all I could say was an audible "Amen!" I'll cry a few more earnest tears and then ward mission, I'm coming for ya.  

"I don't want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing beautifully tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed, and with long, perfectly manicured fingernails. I want to drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids to scout camp. I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbors children. I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping to weed someone's garden. I want to be there with children's sticky kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a friend on my shoulder. I want the Lord to know that I was really here and that I really lived."