Entering Wonderland 'Part One'

It was 119 degrees and I remember laughing, literally laughing, at how hot it felt outside.  It was July 4^th, 2007 and it was our first summer in the blazing heat of Arizona.  My family (Mr. Wonderful, our 2 boys, and I) had been in this new and exciting place for a short 5 months.

When Mr. Wonderful was offered a promising job in Arizona I was excited.  I was ready and fearless and confident and ambitiously ready to take on the world.  And so, we moved. 

It was the first time Mr. Wonderful and I weren’t living within 5 miles of at least 20 of our relatives; his parents, my parents, his siblings, my siblings, my grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles, etc.  But we were thriving in our new life.  We loved our neighborhood.  We loved our ward.  We loved the people we were meeting and the friends we were making.  I loved how strong our marriage was growing because, for the first time, we were forced to rely on each other completely.  We were communicating with ease and supporting each other in ways our extended family normally would.  We were each other’s everything… and more. 

I was happy.  I loved the sunshine.  I felt like, not only was it 119 degrees outside in July, while my little family sat on the asphalt waiting for the fireworks to start, but it also felt like it was 119 degrees inside my own heart and soul.  I was just.that.happy.

When the doorbell rang in the evening of July 5, 2007 I answered it without a thought.  The kids were in bed, the dishes were done, the evening had arrived and I wondered who was stopping by for a visit.  When I opened the door a familiar face in a suit stood on my front porch.  I struggled trying to remember exactly who this man was.  I knew he was a member of my bishopric, but I wasn’t sure if he actually was my bishop!  In an attempt to hide my confusion from him, I smiled curiously.  I remember thinking it felt a bit strange when he pushed his way through my front door without me announcing that my husband was home first (normally, in my church, a man won’t barge in {or even enter} a home without first knowing that another man is home).  Just as I was thinking how strange this was, Mr. Wonderful bounced around the corner welcoming our BISHOP into our home.

“Hello bishop” I said, in a way that would make anyone believe that all along I knew he was my bishop.  The bishop shook my hand nervously and took a seat in our big blue chair.  I joined as Mr. Wonderful awkwardly sat on our couch…

…and here is where my life changed forever.

…and here is where things get very blurry.