Thank goodness for the Smiths

This semester is proving to stretch and cultivate me in ways I never have been before. I recognize this opportunity as an incredible blessing, and I really am enjoying the experience (most days? I think?), but sometimes the cultivating is a little intense. I have classes all day Tuesday and Thursday (minus devotional) and my last two classes of the day make for a very intense three hours. The only decent analogy I came up with to describe how it makes me feel was a little dramatic, so I'll just say that those two classes back to back make for an intellectually and emotionally harrowing experience.

I think we often throw around the word "harrow" without giving it a lot of thought. Let's take a closer look...

Don't laugh because it's a toy... I picked this picture from the Google Images because it gives a clear bird's eye view of each part of the machine. (And because it was a Case model, of course.) Harrows vary from model to model--most have two rows of disks which are either followed by a several large bars like you see below or lots of spikey little tines. Their purpose is the same:

disc harrow, n.
1. a machine with sharp-edged slightly concave discs mounted on horizontal shafts and used to cut clods or debris on the surface of the soil or to cover seed after planting;
2. a cultivator that pulverizes or smooths the soil

I know I definitely have some intellectual and emotional surface debris, and that a lot of seeds have been planted and need to be covered, but isn't it only natural to start shaking in my boots when I see Mr. Cultivator-Pulverizer-Soil-Smoother heading straight for my soul?? I'm not sure yet, but I think I might be betting my money on the harrow...

Today, I made it successfully through Class #4 of the day, but not without one tear sneaking out the corner of my right eye while no one was looking. After the bell rang and I started booking it to the MARB, I felt so weighed down I just wanted to sit down in the middle of the sidewalk and cry for my Mom like a lost kid in K-mart. I refrained, and said a prayer in my heart instead: "Heavenly Father, I don't know how I can make it through one more class today. Please help me." After walking down the MARB stairs into the basement and less than sixty seconds after my prayer, I see this girl walking toward me in the hall:

No, I don't attend class in Paris, but this is just one of my favorite pictures of her that I took the liberty of borrowing (cough--stealing...) from her blog.

She was probably a little alarmed when I saw her face and pretty much burst into tears. They weren't the same lost-kid-in-K-mart tears; they were more tears of relief at such a tender mercy. There were only two people I'm aware of on that campus at that moment that could have legitimately filled a nurturing role on my behalf. (The other also happened to be a Smith...) Heavenly Father zeroed in on His resources and inspired a sweet Pathophysiology TA to go fill her water bottle, or get a drink, or whatever it was she was doing out in the hall before class started. I didn't need much, just real arms around me and the real love of a real friend.

• Thank you, Melissa, for living in a way that you can be the answer to someone's silent cry for help.
• Thank you, Mliss & Suzy's Mom, for raising your girls (and boys) the way that you have. I've thought many times how indebted I am to you. I know your kids wouldn't be who they are without you. Well done, Sister Smith.
  

And I have someone else to thank again when I kneel down tonight...

"God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through another person that he meets our needs." - President Kimball