Forget Me Not

I'm tired. I'm worn. My heart is heavy.

Lyrics from a Tenth Avenue North song that ring true in my life right now.

I am run down.
Burned out.

I am weighed down with concern for two of my children who are dealing with different health issues. Struggling to learn how best to help them and move forward. And it's difficult to keep balance in other areas of your life when you're just so weary.

I have been putting up a good fight, though. Most days I feel emotionally, mentally, and spiritually secure. Most days. Not all days. Certainly the daylight hours after a night of stress-induced insomnia can bring anyone's spirits down, though.

Through all of this, I have deliberately made an effort to stay focused on keeping the Spirit in our home. And I have found one of the most assured ways to make certain that this happens is to be obedient to the promptings of the still small voice when they come.

It's not always easy.
It's not always convenient.
And just to be perfectly clear-- I am completely imperfect at both listening and following through.
I am trying, however.

And so it was that I was driving along after dropping off our two oldest at school, with these thoughts and worries weighing on my mind. 

I had errands to run, and I was planning on going to our local supermarket when I had a vague feeling that I should instead go to one not too far from where the kids attend school. It seemed fairly reasonable, so I headed in that direction. As I continued down the road, I passed a store that I seldom enter: Intermountain Farmers Association.

When the store came into my sights, I suddenly had a very strong but very short prompting that I should go there. Being that I am not a farmer by any stretch of the imagination-- and had absolutely no reason to stop-- I was seriously doubtful about it. After the thought popped into my head, I actually said "Really?!?" out loud in what may or may not have been a terribly sarcastic tone.

I drove past the store.
And then I felt guilty about it the rest of the day.  

Yesterday morning, I decided to take a leap of faith and follow through. As I saw the store approach, once again I felt that I needed to go in. This time I did.

Getting out the car, I took a deep breath and just said a silent prayer that went something like this:

I have absolutely no idea why You have sent me here, but here I am. Please help me know why, because I really feel like a complete idiot right now. If there is something I am supposed to do here, please show me and I will try to do Thy will.

Looking around, I decided to head for the very small garden nursery on the side of the building. I was pretty sure I wasn't there for livestock feed, after all.

They had flats of pansies.
I love spring pansies.

As I admired the flowers, I noticed that there was a small display of potted shrubs for sale. Looking closer, I couldn't believe my eyes.

A variety of butterfly bush that I had spent the greater part of last year searching for without success was sitting right in front of me. On sale for half price, no less.

Heading inside to pay for my beloved little plant, I decided to look at their garden seed display. In years past, I hadn't been too terribly tempted by their varieties-- much preferring the heirloom and rare to the common hybrids typically sold. But I figured while I was here, why not? In the constant stress of the last couple of months, I hadn't had time to order my favorite seeds by mail.

Again, I stood in amazement as I found every single variety I had been lacking. Even the strange and rare gourd seeds I traditionally get for my mom each year for her birthday-- all there.

As I headed up to the counter, I saw a packet of seeds out of the corner of my eye. Picking them up, I smiled and added them to my collection.   

Forget-me-nots.

The words of a much beloved sermon came into my mind, and I clearly understood why I was there that morning:

...Forget not that the Lord loves you.

As a child, when I would look at the little forget-me-nots, I sometimes felt a little like that flower—small and insignificant. I wondered if I would be forgotten by my family or by my Heavenly Father.

Years later I can look back on that young boy with tenderness and compassion. And I do know now—I was never forgotten.

And I know something else: as an Apostle of our Master, Jesus Christ, I proclaim with all the certainty and conviction of my heart—neither are you!

You are not forgotten.

Sisters, wherever you are, whatever your circumstances may be, you are not forgotten. No matter how dark your days may seem, no matter how insignificant you may feel, no matter how overshadowed you think you may be, your Heavenly Father has not forgotten you. In fact, He loves you with an infinite love.

Just think of it: You are known and remembered by the most majestic, powerful, and glorious Being in the universe! You are loved by the King of infinite space and everlasting time!

He who created and knows the stars knows you and your name—you are the daughters of His kingdom.

(Dieter F. Uchtdorf, "Forget Me Not," Oct 2011 Conference Report)

I learned an unexpected lesson yesterday. One I will never forget.
The Lord wants us to know and understand just how much He loves us.
The question is, do we stop to listen?

How many times had He tried to tell me before, and I hadn't even noticed?

He has my attention now-- love washing over me with a peace and stillness that has been lacking in my world lately. Mending my heart that has been frail and torn.

I'm worn.
But not worn out.
And for that, I thank Him.

A Letter to a Friend

Dear Emily,

You have been on my mind so much as of late. Even though hundreds of miles and several states separate us physically, I have felt a close kinship to you spiritually. I suppose that is to be expected and cherished with childhood friends.

Entrance to Enlightenment, oil on board, 1988, by Johan H. Benthin

I hope you know how much I admire you. To me, you represent the pinnacle of triumph over adversity. You have overcome so much in your life, and while many things could have made you bitter you choose to move forward in your life as a radiant, powerful daughter of God and follower of Christ.

I know things have been difficult for you lately. I understand how challenging it can be to continue on in the face of raging storms and obscured paths.

As I read the words you wrote recently, I found myself completely empathizing with you-- for I have stood in similar shoes time and time again. You said:

These past few weeks have really gotten me thinking about Job. How do you lose everything and still praise God? That is such an amazing Faith that I do not yet have. When you feel like the devil is running rampant trying to take everything you have, how on earth do you trust that it will ever end positively? ...Haven't I proven my strength? Why do I continue to be tested? When does it all end?

You and I may not have journeyed down identical roads of trial and tribulation, but I have also walked through stretches of deepened darkness and despair. I have echoed in my heart so many times the song of David:

Have mercy upon me, O Lord; for I am weak: O Lord, heal me; for my bones are vexed.

My soul is also sore vexed: but thou, O Lord, how long?

Return, O Lord, deliver my soul: oh save me for thy mercies’ sake...

I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears. (Psalm 6:2-4,6)

Although we may cry out, "The Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten me!"
Our God reassuringly speaks peace to our anxious hearts:

Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.

Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands. (see Isaiah 49:13-16)

I cannot answer all the whys of this life. I do not fully understand why some people have to experience tremendous pain and suffering while others do not.

But what I do know is this:
That in Christ, all things are possible.

He Himself said, "These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace.  In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)

C. S. Lewis phrased it this way, “God, who foresaw your tribulation, has specially armed you to go through it, not without pain but without stain.”

Someone whose sermons I adore is Jeffrey R. Holland. In my faith tradition we sustain him as a modern-day apostle of the Lord. His retelling of the story of Elisha and the Syrian army cheers and sustains me through the difficult moments in life:

Elisha, with a power known only to the prophets, had counseled the king of Israel on how and where and when to defend against the warring Syrians. The king of Syria, of course, wished to rid his armies of this prophetic problem. So—and I quote:

Therefore sent he thither horses, and chariots, and a great host: and they came by night, and compassed the city about. . . . an host compassed the city both with horses and chariots. (2 Kings 6:14–15)

If Elisha is looking for a good time to be depressed, this is it... It is one prophet and one lad against the world. And the boy is petrified. He sees the enemy everywhere—difficulty and despair and problems and burdens everywhere... With faltering faith the boy cries, “Alas, my master! How shall we do?”

And Elisha’s reply? “Fear not: for they that be with us are more than they that be with them” (2 Kings 6:15–16).

“They that be with us?” Now just an Israelite minute here. Faith is fine and courage is wonderful, but this is ridiculous, the boy thinks. There are no others with them. He can recognize a Syrian army when he sees one, and he knows that one child and an old man are not strong odds against it. But then comes Elisha’s promise:

Fear not: for they that be with us are more than they that be with them. And Elisha prayed, and said, Lord, I pray thee, open his eyes, that he may see. And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man; and he saw: and, behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha. (2 Kings 6:16–17)

In the gospel of Jesus Christ you have help from both sides of [heaven and earth], and you must never forget that. When disappointment and discouragement strike—and they will—you remember and never forget that if our eyes could be opened we would see horses and chariots of fire as far as the eye can see riding at reckless speed to come to our protection. They will always be there, these armies of heaven, in defense of [God's children].
(Jeffrey R. Holland, "For Times of Trouble," BYU Devotional, 18 Mar 1980)

When hurricanes of life barrel down upon me, I try to remember those unseen angels helping me fight my battles. One of my favorite modern-day scriptures states, "And whoso receiveth you, there I will be also, for I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up." (D&C 84:88)

Or, as Chris Tomlin says in more modern vernacular, "I know who goes before me, I know who stands behind: The God of angel armies is always by my side."

That thought in tandem with these words of Isaiah give me tremendous comfort and peace:

Sing, O heavens; and be joyful, O earth; and break forth into singing, O mountains:  for the Lord hath comforted his people and will have mercy upon his afflicted. (Isaiah 49:13)

I wish I could be with you in person-- to give you a hug and tell you just how much I love you and am thankful to have our friendship to bless my life. But these words will have to suffice for now.

But please know of my love.
And more importantly, His love.
Cling to His promises, and find solace in your strong supportive faith community.

And when those darkening moments come, take heart.
For all of the greatest heroines of this life have overcome formidable and unyielding obstacles.

And you, my dear friend, are one beloved heroine.  

With much love,
Tiff

• • •

Over the weekend, our faith's General Conference of the church was held. For two days we gather to listen to thoughts of comfort and counsel from our church's leaders. I thought these words from another beloved modern-day apostle were timely and moving. I am certain I will return to them often on the difficult days ahead.

Dieter F. Uchtdorf, "The Hope of God's Light," Apr. 2013 Conference Report

 

And some more comfort from one of yours & my favorite people-- Chris August, along with Group 1 Crew. Always a good reminder.

The Sunset

Around five in the evening on Sunday, I happened to look across the kitchen to our sliding glass door-- which was perfectly framing a magnificent sunset.

"Reilly," I called as she sat playing at the kitchen table, "look at that pretty sunset!"

She turned and approached the glass, marveling at all the colors.

Look, Mom! There's pink and orange and blue... and a little purple too.

Her eyes were wide with wonder. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked.

She smiled and nodded. Then turned back to the table and proceeded to document the moment in bold Crayola strokes. The silhouette of a mountain, embraced by a breathtaking riot of color.

Handing it to me with both hands, she smiled at me sweetly.

Here, Mom, this is for you.  

And she turned back to the glass to admire the sky once more.

I stood, watching her.
Her silhouette now being embraced by those same colors she had replicated with her best six-year-old effort.

My sweet little first grader.

And the tears, they come again, as I think of a town where the sun has already set.
A town where several parents no longer have little first grade silhouettes, no six-year-old giggles outlining their evenings.
A silent night.

I have shed a lot of tears for Newtown, Connecticut.
I imagine that there will be many more still to come.
My breath catches and my heart stops every time I let the emotion of those twenty-six victims at Sandy Hook Elementary wash over me.

The parents in anguish, the frightened children, the grieving community.
No. Not community-- nation. Aren't we all grieving alongside one another?
The pain has been intense.

Yet even in despair, there can be peace. I have felt it wrap around me and comfort my soul several times over the last few days, as the God who weeps (see John 11) succors His children.

I find strength in all of the good people that are still out there in the world, giving themselves to the service of others.

"The helpers," as Fred Rogers called them:

When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.

To this day, especially in times of "disaster," I remember my mother's words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers-- so many caring people in this world.

This is what I tried to teach my children this week as I held them a little tighter, a little longer.
There may be terrible evil in this world, but guess what? In the big picture, love wins. Every time.

Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.
God bless Newtown.
God bless us all.

That Which Endures

At the Ragnar Wasatch Back finish line in 2009

I've been thinking a lot about endurance this year.

You see, to be completely honest it's been a pretty tough 52 weeks for me and my family. If I were to put it in athletic terms, I'd call it a "building period."

We've been stretching. Growing.
Physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually.

It hasn't been entirely pleasant all the time. In fact, some days have been almost comical in the way Murphy's law continually played out right in front of my eyes.

I've laughed a lot. I've cried a lot.
I've even done both at the same time! A lot!

But truly, despite the struggle of some days, it has been a wonderful year. There is much to be thankful for, even in the hardest moments.

In scripture, we read frequently about "enduring to the end."

Behold, we count them happy which endure. (James 5:11)

Be patient in afflictions, for thou shalt have many; but endure them, for, lo, I am with thee, even unto the end of thy days. (D&C 24:8)

In our culture, it seems that we typically interpret this phrase "endure to the end" as one of those necessary evils of life. A drudgery, akin to slaving away in a chain gang ripped out of a Carson McCullers novella. 'Endure' is synonymous with pain, difficulty. Just thinking about it makes people tired.

Coming from an athletic background, this take has always intrigued me a little.

I swam competitively for over ten years, and coached for many, many more afterward. Being that I am decidedly short and curvy, I myself have never been praised for my natural sprinting abilities. I simply don't have the physical attributes necessary to succeed against a competitive field of Missy Franklin look-alikes. But the endurance events, ah! That's where I finally was able to find my niche.

Which leads me to this important thought:

In athletics, endurance is not a bad thing.  
To the contrary, it is something to strive for.

Jarom running his 135 mile ultra through the mountains of Brazil

To illustrate, Bryson and I have a crazy friend named Jarom. (And he knows that I say that with the greatest degree of affection!)

He is a professional ultra-marathoner.

His every-day training runs are distances that I have to train for months on end just to have a prayer at even finishing!

When I think of endurance, I think of Jarom. In my head, he is endurance incarnate.

But here's the thing. Even though he has seemingly super-human stamina, he doesn't just sit on his laurels looking down at us peasants. I suppose he could, but he doesn't! Instead, he uses his abilities, his hard-earned endurance level to help those around him.

Pacing runners at local marathons that are trying to set personal records.
Teaching children in local public schools.
Helping former addicts turn their lives around by working with Addict II Athlete, a group that helps individuals substitute a healthy physical habit for their previous self-destructing one. 

Look what endurance can accomplish.

Albert Einstein once said, "In the middle of difficulty, lies opportunity."
Opportunity for growth. Opportunity to serve. Opportunity to lift.

Is it tough? ABSOLUTELY.

Anyone who has trained for a distance that seemed ridiculously impossible can tell you of the challenge in meeting their goal. But with continued discipline and a fixed determination, gradually the training becomes easier. Why? Because our fitness level has risen up to meet the challenge. The end goal becomes closer, and increasingly more realistic.

Maybe life is a little like that too.

Wasatch Back - 2009

After all, if muscle needs to be broken down by the tiny micro-fissures that result from proper training in order to be built back stronger, then perhaps it is not such a far-off conclusion that our spirits grow best in a similar manner.

What would happen if we thought of difficult times as building years? What if we approached the dark and desolate days as opportunities for trusting in our ultimate Coach and continued forward in faith to increase our endurance?

How much spiritual strength could be gained?
And how might we be able to then turn around and serve those around us?

As I look back on the events of this year, I realize how much I have grown. Oh, I am still a big huge mess most days, but slowly God is polishing some of this roughness away. And if there's one thing He has taught me these last couple of months it is that I am stronger than I have dared to realize and that through Him nothing is impossible.

 Wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and all men. Wherefore, if ye shall press forward... and endure to the end, behold, thus saith the Father: Ye shall have eternal life. (2 Ne. 31:20)

And so I plod along the path as best I can, running "with patience the race that is set before us." (Hebrews 12:1)

All the while, this anthem plays on repeat inside my heart:

 
Take my life, take all that I am.
Take my heart, take all that I have.

It's just a building year, nothing to be afraid of.

His grace is always sufficient. Like an avalanche.
So, come along.
Let's do it together.

Darkness to Light

When your childhood and youth are spent living a somewhat charmed existence, often the darker and uglier side of life isn’t even on your radar.

Things like

ABUSE

and

MOLESTATION

and

RAPE.

These ugly words were absolutely foreign to me.  I had no comprehension of what they even meant as I grew up in a loving home environment.

When you discover that these horrors were actually the reality for a loved one during those same tender years, however, your entire world changes in the blink of an eye. 

Their pain suddenly becomes your pain.

Their betrayal quickly becomes your betrayal.

Your reality becomes filled with

OUTRAGE

and

SORROW

and unequivocal

FURY.

Your faith in an all-powerful, all-loving Father in Heaven is questioned.  Resentment toward those who neglected to protect the innocence of a young child festers.  You begin to close ranks as trust in your fellow man utterly dissipates with the wind.  

Not too many years ago this became my reality.   

How do you move on when confronted head on by an unspeakable crime?

How do you help your loved one work through the unimaginable pain and betrayal that only a victim can truly understand?

How do you find faith or peace when you find yourself in such a dark place?

As with most things in life, the answer is always

LOVE.

For us specifically, it was to cry out as Bartimaeus, the blind man along the road from Jericho:

'Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me.'

And many charged him that he should hold his peace: but he cried the more a great deal, 'Thou son of David, have mercy on me.'   (Mark 10:47-48, emphasis added)

For us, the only option was to let go of the anger and grab hold to the yoke of Christ.
To listen to and trust in the still small voice.
To cling to one another in His boundless grace.

I'm fairly certain that to do anything less would have torn us apart.

No matter our circumstance or position in life, trials and tragedy will come knocking sooner or later.  No one is immune from sorrow and suffering.

But this I have learned for sure:
We are not alone in our anguish.

I recall a priesthood blessing I received during one of the more difficult moments in my life, and vividly remember the words directed by the promptings of the Holy Ghost which stated that our Father in Heaven is pained to see us in pain.  That He grieves to see us in the midst of grief.  I know that is true.

I also know that if we will turn away from the darkness which so often surrounds us, that His light can lift us to greater heights.  We can emerge from tragedy stronger and with greater empathy and understanding.  It does not please God to see his children abused and made to suffer.  But if we let Him, He can turn even the darkest nights into a beautiful sunrise.  His grace is sufficient for all.

There is peace to be found in the words of our Savior:

These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace.  In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.  (John 16:33)

When the storms of life catch us off guard, and we find ourselves crying out as did the apostles of old, "Master, carest thou not that we perish?" -- if we can just hold on to the smallest shred of faith and trust in Him whose children we are, He can bring peace to our souls.

And through that peace, we are forever changed.

• • •

If you or someone you love suffers from the horrors of sexual abuse, I highly recommend reading this discourse given by Sister Chieko Okazaki at BYU in 2002.

My love and prayers go with you.

This post is part of a Wordfull Wednesday link-up hosted by Chocolate on my Cranium.

Have you ever had an event in your life occur that challenged you to adjust to your circumstance?

Post your experience and link up with us.

Silent Tears

Reilly with the stuffed bear she received from the hospital.

  

Her resonant cries brought silent echoes of my own.
Trying to be the strong reassuring mommy I stood close to her side, rubbing her legs softly as Bryson held her hand and gently stroked her hair away from her face.

Our promises that everything was going to be alright weren't very encouraging to Reilly in the difficult moment.

Undergoing a very uncomfortable and slightly invasive procedure for a little five-year-old girl while in the middle of a painful urinary tract infection, the entire experience was more than she could bear.  Her sobs echoed throughout the radiology wing of the hospital.

At the peak of the discomfort, Reilly looked at Bryson and pleaded through her tears, "Oh, Daddy, please make it stop!"

There was nothing I wanted more than to take her pain away.
I wanted to cradle her in my arms and make her feel safe and secure again.   
But I couldn't.

As a parent, I knew that this test was absolutely necessary to her well being.
But still, her pleas cut deeply into my heart.

Life can be full of difficult and painful experiences.  There have been times in my own life when I have found myself in the middle of a desperately bleak situation and have wanted to cry out to my Father in Heaven just as Reilly did, "Oh, Daddy, please make it stop!"

Sometimes we have to go through the heartbreaking trial anyway.
Sometimes it is absolutely necessary for our well being.

I realize-- and empathize with the fact-- that many people have difficulty in making peace with the idea of an all-loving God with the amount of suffering that is so pervasive in our world.

How could God allow such a thing to happen?

It's an all too common refrain.

But standing in the radiology wing that day with my sweet little girl, I gained an entirely new perspective.

This life is not meant to be an exercise in pleasure and constant leisure.  We are here to learn, to grow.  To gain necessary experience, which will refine the soul.  It is not an easy thing.  Many times we are placed in decidedly uncomfortable and painful situations.

Elder Neal A. Maxwell once opined:

Therefore, how can you and I really expect to glide naively through life, as if to say, "Lord, give me experience, but not grief, not sorrow, not pain, not opposition, not betrayal, and certainly not to be forsaken.  Keep from me, Lord, all those experiences which made Thee what Thou art!  Then let me come and dwell with Thee and fully share Thy joy!"
("Lest Ye Be Wearied and Faint in Your Minds," April 1991 Conference Report)
  
But just because God does not see fit to take the pain away does not mean that He is not there, cradling us in His arms with silent tears of His own.  He is always there, even in the most lonely of trials. 

When we stand shaking and alone, thinking "The Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten me."

He answers softly but reassuringly:

Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb?  yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.

Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands...

Sing, O heavens; and be joyful, O earth; and break forth into singing, O mountains:  for the Lord hath comforted his people and will have mercy upon his afflicted.
(see Isaiah 49:13-16)

Never alone.
We are never alone.

Finding Gratitude

Sometimes, being thankful comes naturally.

We look around us and see the bountiful blessings that have been freely given and praise God for His goodness.

At other times, however, we might search with discouragement, for God seems so very far away.  Life is not always a smooth and beautiful ride, laden with luxury and ease.

Sometimes, being thankful is hard.

I have been thinking a lot about my friend Paige, and the tragedies she and her family have been living through recently.  Even though I have been through some very difficult and trying times in my own life, I am uncertain how I would cope with the loss of one husband, let alone two.  I am pretty sure I wouldn't move through those tragedies with the same grace and faith as my dear friend.   

How is it possible to feel gratitude at a time like that?
Where is the justice and mercy of an all-loving God?

A few weeks ago, my good friend Hope sent me a link to an essay written by Carlfred Broderick, a therapist and former stake president.  In it, he tells the story of an event he attended for eleven-year-old girls who were matriculating from the church's Primary program to the Young Women's organization.  As part of the event, they had a beautiful, over-the-top program based on The Wizard of Oz.  An eleven year old Dorothy and her friends skipped down the smoothly paved yellow brick road on their way to Oz-- which cleverly was made to resemble a beautiful temple.  Once they arrived at "Oz," they had it made.  All along the way, there were no bumps in the road.  No missing bricks, no flying monkeys, no wicked witch, nothing.

At the end of the program, the Stake Primary President invited President Broderick to the pulpit to make some remarks.  He knew that what he was about to say would most likely not be especially appreciated by those who had put on the program, but he felt it was crucial to make a few points clear.

He said:

Girls, this has been a beautiful program.  I commend the gospel with all of its auxiliaries and the temple to you, but I do not want you to believe for one minute that if you keep all the commandments and live as close to the Lord as you can... that bad things will not happen to you.  And when that happens, I do not want you to say that God was not true.  Or to say, they promised me... that if I [was] very, very good, I would be blessed.  

When [tragedies] happen, do not say God is not keeping His promises to me.  The gospel of Jesus Christ is not insurance against pain.  It is resource in event of pain, and when that pain comes (and it will come, because we came here on earth to have pain among other things), when it comes, rejoice that you have resource to deal with your pain.     

Rejoice, because we have resource to deal with our pain.

Even in the midst of darkness and despair, we can be thankful-- for we are not alone.  We are not left comfortless.

President Marvin J. Ashton affirmed, "Sometimes as children we were told that everything would be all right.  But life is not like that.  No matter who you are, you will have problems.  Tragedy and frustration are the unexpected intruders on life's plans.  Someone has said, 'Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans.'  It is important that we do not look upon our afflictions as a punishment from God.  True, our own actions may cause some of our problems, but often there is no evident misconduct that has caused our trials.  Just the normal journey through life teaches us that nothing worthwhile comes easy."
("If Thou Endure It Well," October 1984 Conference Report)  

A song that I have been listening to a lot these days is "Gratitude," by Nichole Nordeman.  The message in the lyrics is that even when we don't receive the blessings we so earnestly desire, that we can give thanks for the lessons we are learning as we diligently seek the Lord and strive to do His will.  It is a lesson I am continually learning piece by piece in my own life.

In the Book of Mormon, Amulek delivers this powerful testimony:

...Take upon you the name of Christ; that you humble yourselves even to the dust, and worship God, in whatsoever place ye may be in, in spirit and in truth; and that ye live in thanksgiving daily, for the many mercies and blessings which he doth bestow upon you.

And now my beloved brethren, I would exhort you to have patience, and that ye bear with all manner of afflictions... with a firm hope that ye shall one day rest from all your afflictions. 
(Alma 34:38, 40-41) 

I love that.

Even in the midst of afflictions-- deep and dark ones-- we are still blessed beyond compare.  For we are children of a King, and He will strengthen us, help us, and cause us to stand.  (See "How Firm a Foundation," verse 3)

Our personal road of mortality is fraught with twists and turns.  But just because we stumble and fall-- sometimes hard-- it doesn't mean that our journey is at an end.  It is only part of the process.

These words from Ammon from the pages of the Book of Mormon also fill me with a joyous hope:

Now when our hearts were depressed, and we were about to turn back, behold, the Lord comforted us, and said... bear with patience thine afflictions, and I will give unto you success.

Now have we not reason to rejoice? Yea, I say unto you, there never were men that had so great reason to rejoice as we, since the world began; yea, and my joy is carried away, even unto boasting in my God; for he has all power, and all wisdom, and all understanding; he comprehendeth all things, and he is a merciful Being, even unto salvation, to those who will repent and believe on his name.
(Alma 26:27,35) 

And for that, I give thanks.

• • •

 

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• • •

Heartache

Have you ever had a group of friends that changed your life so profoundly that they stay locked within your heart forever?

That was my experience with the five girls I lived with in my third year at BYU.  Here we are together at an impromptu slumber party on our apartment's living room floor.  Starting clockwise from the top left is Elizabeth, Melissa, me, Paige, and Emily C.  Our sixth roommate, Emily P. is taking the picture.  We became like sisters as we navigated the shaky waters of young adulthood together.  Through good times and bad, we leaned on each other.

In a lot of ways, Paige was the rock that held us together-- and not only as the foundation for our fun little pigpile here.  She seemed so poised, faithful, and wise beyond her years.  She knew exactly who she was and what she wanted to do with her life.  In contrast, I was struggling to figure out the answers to those same questions.  I had a lot of admiration for her.

Over time, we all went our different ways.  Paige married her college sweetheart, Lence.  I transferred to Utah State.  Though we drifted apart over the years, we never forgot the close ties that bound us together during that pivotal year.  And thanks to Facebook, we were able to reconnect with one another again.

Then came the afternoon, two years ago, that I learned the news.

Lence, Paige's husband of ten years and father to their five young children had been killed.  He was shot several times by a tenant of an apartment complex that he owned.  It seemed an inconceivable, impossible act.  We were devastated for Paige and her four little girls, and one baby boy-- only 8 months old.   

How on earth do you go on breathing after something like that?
I wasn't sure.

But Paige did.  She kept breathing and more.  She pressed onward, her faith in tact, and trusted in the Lord's plan for her and her family.

And once again, I could only marvel.

This past spring, we all rejoiced as she remarried a wonderful man named Brian.  We were all so happy to see Paige find love again.  It seemed only fair after all she had been through that she would be able to experience an abundance of joy once more.

And then more news came this afternoon.

Brian, Paige's newlywed husband had passed away in their home last week.

I think my heart literally stopped beating for a few seconds after I received the message. 

How?
Why?
Where is the justice?  The mercy?

Mostly, I just wanted to reach across the miles between us and give my friend a hug.  To cry with her.

I don't understand all the reasons that some people seem to have to suffer so much more than others in this life.  All I know is that through it all, we are not left comfortless.  Our Savior is there to lean on at all times, and to carry us through the moments we feel that we can go no further.

And one day, we will kneel at His feet and with a greater understanding we will be able to stand back and see with perfect clarity.

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.  (Revelation 21:4)

I look forward to that day more than I can say.
I love you, Paige.

The Do-Over

This is me, at approximately one o'clock yesterday afternoon.  Red flannel pajamas, hair unkempt, sans makeup.

Just keeping it real.

To say that the last week has been a challenge would be a horrible understatement.  Last week I was the lucky winner of a particularly unpleasant stomach bug that turned me into a walking zombie for several days.  And of course, being the caring and compassionate mother that I am, I had to share with the rest of the household.  All of us, except Bryson, have fallen victim to this nasty little virus.  Lucky duck.

Because of Bryson's challenging work schedule of late, I have been pretty much on my own taking care of our sick little brood.  It has made for some very long days and nights.  I really don't want to go into revolting detail, but just picture a first grader, a kindergartner, and two eighteen-month-old babies going through the worst stomach virus you can imagine. Welcome to my week.

It has been Vile.
With a capital V.
And I've been a mom for several years now.
There are few things that gross me out anymore.

But do you know what?

I am so incredibly happy. 
Yep, you read that absolutely right.

You see, a few weeks ago I found myself in a similar situation-- albeit not as bad-- as the one I am in right now.  Fighting a minor cold myself, I was struggling terribly as I tried to tend to my sweet little Logan-- who was suffering through an ear infection and sore throat.  He would not be consoled.  There was nothing I could do to stop his heart-breaking cries, except pray.  But my faith wasn't enough to take away my baby's pain.  As his wails continued into the night for hours, I began to feel incredibly powerless.  And resentful.

I wanted a miracle.  I wanted God to take my order and deliver immediately.  I wanted my husband to be home, where he could help me.  I wanted to sleep so that I could get over my own cold.
Wanted, wanted, wanted.

I even called up my husband at an unearthly hour and vented.
Okay, so "vented" may not be entirely accurate.
"Tantrum" is the word coming to mind that seems most appropriate here.

After I got a few meager hours of sleep and came to myself, I started seeing my actions with new eyes.

S-H-A-M-E.

I was mortified.  Had I really just presumed to counsel the Lord?  Had I really just told off my husband with complete and utter ingratitude for all he does for my family?  I wanted to crawl under a rock.  I felt like I had been given an important test and I had failed.  Miserably.

I called Bryson and apologized profusely.  I spent quite a bit of time that morning in silent prayer as I tended to my sick little boy.  I pleaded for forgiveness and for a chance to prove myself, to try again.  I prayed for the strength to do better. 

I got my chance this week.

It has surprised me how different things have been.  Even though the sickness has been so much worse in scope and severity, I have stayed upbeat through it all.  Sure, I'm tired.  But I have seen the blessings of being able to care for my family with such greater clarity this time around.

I am blessed to be in a position to care for these precious little ones.

As I have held them close and comforted them through this illness, there has been no resentment.  Only gratitude.  Instead of being so selfishly focused, I have tried to forget myself and get to work.  (Thank you, President Hinckley!)  And the funny thing is, it has only increased my own feelings of love and happiness.   

In 1984, Elder Russell C. Taylor, then of the First Quorum of the Seventy gave a fantastic discourse on service.  I happened upon it recently, and was struck by the power in these words:

I can say unashamedly, I rejoice in the service of God.  My experience teaches that the highest goodness attainable is a life of unselfish service to mankind...  Some mistakenly think that a commitment to service comes after a great spiritual experience.  This is like the man who is cold, standing before the stove, and saying, "Give me heat, and then I will put in some wood."  The joy and blessings of service follow the rendering of service. 

There comes a time in the life of all people when they must certify with their actions what they believe.  Jesus said of His own life, "The Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister." (Matt. 20:28)

Fathers and mothers, with your strength of example you will influence your sons and daughters for eternity with examples of loving, uncomplaining service far more convincingly by doing than only by saying.
("The Joy of Service," October 1984 Conference Report, emphases in original text) 

I can truly attest to the joy and blessings than come from selfless service.

As I cradled my baby girl recently, bathing her for likely the third time that day, the words of the Savior played repeatedly in my mind.

Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. (Matt. 25:40)

I have learned that as we serve our children with a deepened desire to lay our selfish interests on the Lord's altar, that He will strengthen us in ways we cannot imagine.  He will never shut us out-- and often when we are feeling that He has, it is often due to our actions-- that we have shut Him out.

If we can but humble ourselves, He will lift us above ourselves and fill us with an abundance of peace and joy.

Truly, my cup runneth over.

• • •

Celebrate giving with gratitude this month with us!

Thy Will Be Done

Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear-- not absence of fear.  Except a creature be part coward, it is not a compliment to say it is brave; it is merely a loose misapplication of the word.

- Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson [1894]

• • •

Sometimes, doing what God asks of us is a joy.
It may stretch us, naturally, but we understand that this is so and walk ahead with confidence in His plan.

Other times, well...
It's not always easy.

In the summer of 2009, things were going fantastically well for me.  I really felt that I was starting to come into my own.  I was in great health, achieving many personal goals I had set for myself, balancing the demands of motherhood relatively well, and finally making peace with my deeply ingrained (and completely unproductive) perfectionism. 

Of course, it is in those moments of absolute complacency that the Lord decides to introduce opportunities for growth.

Now at the time, Bryson and I were fully aware that our family was not complete.  We knew that there was at least one more spirit meant to bless our family.  I was just hesitant to subject my body to the rigors of pregnancy again.

I was stalling.
And to be perfectly honest, I felt justified in that mindset.

You see, pregnancy and I are not exactly on good terms with one another.

It is not always the most simple thing for me to conceive, and when I had in the past, each of the nine months spent developing those precious little babies were a physical nightmare for me.  I experienced toxemia (preeclampsia) with both, and my health suffered tremendously.

With Reilly in particular, I was especially ill.  I gained weight at an uncontrollable pace despite a balanced diet.  My blood pressure jumped to a much higher level than is normal for me.  The swelling was absolutely unbearable.  Even after my sweet girl was born I continued to suffer from these maladies.  The blood pressure increased.  The swelling increased horrifically as well, making breastfeeding physically impossible.  I was rendered fairly incapable of caring for myself, much less my family.  

My sister & I just after Reilly's birth the summer of 2006; us again the summer of 2009

I was terrified of going through that again.

I did not want to suffer through nine months (or more) of illness.
I did not want to feel that I wasn't adequately nurturing my two children who were already here.
I did not want to be dependent on the good will of others to take care of the responsibilities I felt were my own.

Seriously.
I did not want to.

It was at this time that Bryson and I had the opportunity to take Taylor and Reilly to the Oquirrh Mountain Temple open house.

There was a tremendous spirit there, and as our little family entered one of the sealing rooms we took a moment to gaze into the beautiful mirrors together-- our reflections echoing endlessly in beautiful symbolism.  As I stood there with my family, the Spirit spoke very clearly and directly to my heart.

It was time.

I felt very strongly that I needed to pull myself together and trust in God's plan. 

However, just an hour or two later I was starting to waver again.  After leaving the sacred halls of the temple, reality set in.  Chatting with Bryson as we began the drive back home, I casually mentioned that I thought we should start trying for another baby at the beginning of the upcoming year-- several months into the future.

Keeping his eyes on the road as he drove, Bryson frowned slightly.

"Really?"  he postured carefully, "I was kind of thinking that now was the right time.  We'll certainly do whatever you think is best, but that's just the impression I felt in the temple."

I groaned inwardly.

"You felt that too?" I asked, a tinge of shame entering my voice.  "Well, if the time is right now, then I guess we'd better take Heavenly Father's advice to heart."

And a few short weeks later we were expecting.
And a few short months after that we learned we were expecting double.

Twins!

My head began to spin.  I actually laughed at my physician when he mentioned the possibility.  A nervous laugh.

But after the confirming ultrasound, I was filled with such peace and joy.  I knew we were following God's will for us and that we would be sustained-- come what may.

Now, I wish I could tell you that the months that followed were full of sunshine and roses, but that isn't the case.

It was an enormous challenge.

Although I managed to avoid the complications of toxemia, I was still ill throughout most of the pregnancy.  But there were many tender mercies also.  Unlike before, where I was so nauseous and fatigued that just getting out of bed was a challenge, I was at my best in the morning-- enabling me to tend to my children and get them to school with little incident.  While the exhaustion I felt was significant, Bryson's work schedule enabled him to be home to help in the evenings when I was most sick.  Those small but substantial blessings reconfirmed to us that the Lord was there and mindful of our needs.  That He was pleased with our willingness to listen to the promptings of the Spirit-- even with my initial hesitancy.

Sometimes it takes courage to step forward in faith when the way is fraught with uncertainty.
I don't presume to put myself up as an example of bravery, but for me it was an enormous turning point in my own personal spiritual growth.

It would have been so easy to say, "Certainly God would not wish for me to put my life and the well-being of my children at risk to go through another complicated pregnancy."  To take those trusting steps into the dark before the way is lit-- it's challenging at best.  But despite our misgivings, we know in Whom we can trust.  And we need not be afraid.

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
(2 Tim. 1:7)

And yet, following God's will does not necessarily equate to being led down the proverbial primrose path.

Just because we are doing everything we are asked to does not mean that the way will not be filled with difficulty, discouragement, and despair.  But as we trust in His infinite wisdom and love for each of us individually, we discover a resilience and inner strength that will see us through the storms of life. 

President Thomas S. Monson has said:

Life's journey is not traveled on a freeway devoid of obstacles, pitfalls, and snares.  Rather, it is a pathway marked by forks and turnings.  Decisions are constantly before us.  To make them wisely, courage is needed: the courage to say "No," the courage to say "Yes."  Decisions do determine destiny.

The call for courage comes constantly to each of us.  It has ever been so, and so shall it ever be.
("The Call for Courage," Apr. 2004 Conference Report)

With the determination to move forward in faith, we can take courage in the fact that the Lord will not forsake us.  Even in the midst of adversity He will ever be there.  
And by His endless grace, we shall become more than we were before.

• • •

This post is part of a Wordfull Wednesday link-up hosted by Chocolate on my Cranium! 

He Heals the Broken Heart

Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able?  Then he is not omnipotent.  

Is he able, but not willing?  Then he is malevolent.  

Is he both willing and able?  Then whence cometh evil?  Then why call him God?

- attributed to Epicurus, Greek Philosopher (341-270 B.C.)

• • •

This seeming paradox presented so long ago still rings true to many people in the world today.

Why is there suffering in the world if God is all-loving?
Why do bad things happen to good people?  (And good things to bad people?)
Why are some prayers answered and yet others seem to be completely ignored?

In other words:

Where was God when we needed Him most?

This is a question I have considered over the years as I have lived through heart-wrenching experiences in my own life.

A couple of years ago I wrote a post that touched on some of my thoughts about this topic, and many of those same thoughts have resurfaced this week as I read touching blog posts by my cousins Robin and Melanie about the loss of their brother Scott to an aggressive form of cancer that took his life just six short weeks after diagnosis.   He was twenty-eight years old. 

I remember sitting in church just a couple of weeks after Bryson and I lost one of our best friends to brain cancer, listening to a lesson on spiritual gifts.  Much time was spent in discussion of the gift of healing and story after miraculous story was shared about friends and family members who had been saved from injury and death.  It was like a knife to the gut.  

I clearly remember thinking, "If faith is all it takes, then where was our miracle?"

Jen was twenty-eight years old, too, just like my cousin Scott.  She left behind her devoted husband and adorable three-year-old little boy. 

And that is just the tip of the iceberg.

I reflect upon those close to me who struggle with real pain.  Deep pain.  Not just physical, but emotional too.  Trauma from the horrors of past abuse, chronic and unrelenting physical pain, debilitating illness, crippling depression... and the list goes on.

The question echoes, "Why would a benevolent God allow such suffering?"

The short answer is that this life was never meant to be an exercise in constant pleasure and frivolity.  Though God loves each of us completely and perfectly, we were not placed here just so we could enjoy ourselves and bask in that ever-present love.  Life is meant to be a learning experience, a training ground.  We are taught that opposition is a necessary part of mortality.

For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things.  If not so... righteousness could not be brought to pass, neither wickedness, neither holiness nor misery, neither good nor bad.  (2 Ne. 2:11)

President Joseph Fielding Smith had this to say on the subject:

The simple fact is that we came here to partake of the bitter as well as the sweet, to gain knowledge and wisdom through the experiences which mortality affords...  It is a mistaken and foolish notion to think that mortality should be a place for the children of our Eternal Father that should be free from any pain, sickness, or trial of our faith, and eventually mortal death.  To come face-to-face with pain as well as pleasure, sickness as well as health, and eventually death-- we came here definitely to obtain these experiences.  They will be essential to our progress in the world to come, which progress would have been retarded if we had been freed from all these things.  It is absolutely essential that every soul should partake of these experiences.  They help to make us strong.
(Joseph Fielding Smith, Answers to Gospel Questions, 57, 60-61.)

Our trials can lead to a deepened humility that is conducive to greater spiritual growth.  If we do not allow ourselves to become closed off and bitter, suffering can be a purifying fire.  We can emerge from the difficult life experiences stronger and wiser.  We are filled with greater compassion and empathy for others.  We are more aware of the joyful and tender moments in our lives.  And along with a deeper spirituality comes a greater awareness of who and whose we really are.

But it is absolutely crucial to remember that even in the midst of our pain, God has not left us to suffer alone.

Always, our Savior stands ready to carry us when we feel we can go no further.

And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.

And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.
(Alma 7:11-12)

He will bind the broken hearts, and strengthen the feeble knees.
He knows how, because He has been there before.
His miraculous Atonement not only paid the price for our sins but also all of our pain and suffering.

And in ways we are unable to comprehend, He can lift our burdens and heal our wounds.

Elder Dallin H. Oaks elaborated:

Healing blessings come in many ways, each suited to our individual needs, as known to Him who loves us best.  Sometimes a 'healing' cures our illness or lifts our burden.  But sometimes we are 'healed' by being given strength or understanding or patience to bear the burdens placed upon us.  The healing power of the Lord Jesus Christ-- whether it removes our burdens or strengthens us to endure and live with them like the apostle Paul-- is available for every affliction in mortality.
("He Heals the Heavy Laden," October 2006)

Our Savior Himself explained, "These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace.  In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)

And also, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28)

I like the sound of that.

Solace amidst the suffering in this troubled world can be found in the all-encompassing embrace of our Savior.

He has not forsaken me, and He will not forsake you.
Of that, I am certain.

• • •

If your curiosity is piqued, and you would like to have a free copy of the Book of Mormon of your own, without any expectations or strings attached, please let me know and I will personally mail a copy to you.  

(Of course, if you want to have a couple of cute 19-year-olds hand deliver it to your door and answer any questions you may have, I am happy to arrange that too!  But that isn't necessary.)  

You can leave me a comment, message me on Facebook or email me at tiffanatee(at)gmail(dot)com, and I would be sincerely thrilled to do that for you.

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Of Puzzle Pieces and Palaces

There are moments when you know, without a doubt, that God has put someone right in your path-- at the time you absolutely needed it most. Today that experience came from a discussion in Relief Society.

The lesson topic was on adversity, and the shelter we can find with the Lord in the midst of our trials. What a fantastic and oh-so timely message. The Spirit was so tangible throughout the hour, as we discussed strategies for developing an eternal perspective, surrendering ourselves to the Lord's will, and trusting in His eternal plan. I couldn't even say anything, I was so overcome.

Then Debbie, standing in the back of the room, began to speak.

"I really just think that we need to be less afraid to ask for help, and to rely on one another. Sometimes we experience trials that are so overwhelming that the typical Sunday School answers just aren't enough. There are times when reading the scriptures just brings heartache, and when it seems our prayers don't get past the ceiling... In these times, we need one another. It is as if we are given a tiny piece of a much larger puzzle, and are trying to make sense of how in the world it could possibly fit in the greater scheme of things. We are left holding this little blue puzzle piece and continue over and over to try and make it fit in with the other pieces that make up a picture of a lake. We just can't understand why it doesn't fit. But when the puzzle nears completion, we pull back and suddenly realize that it isn't part of the lake at all-- it is part of the sky."

I don't think there was a dry eye in the entire class. I thought that what she said was so eloquent, so profound. I even came home and tried to look up her analogy-- it just sounded so Neal A. Maxwell-esque. But I wasn't able to find any such quotation. It did remind me, however, of some thoughts penned by one of my favorite thinkers, C. S. Lewis.

He illustrated:

Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what he is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised.

But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is he up to? The explanation is that he is building quite a different house from the one you thought of— throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards.

You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but he is building up a palace. He intends to come and live in it himself.(C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity)
Both thoughts gave me a moment's pause for reflection today. There is such truth in them. Life can be messy. Each of us has been given a path to walk, and the way is not always easy. Sometimes it looks downright impossible! But God's plan is sure. He knows each of us better than we know ourselves, and he knows the lessons we need to experience in this life. We may not understand it. We may keep trying to pound & cram that blue puzzle piece in the wrong spot, cursing at it because it just doesn't make any sense! But God does know what He is doing. We don't have to worry on that one... of that I am certain.

I have the best friends in the world. I am so grateful during these times of heartache to be surrounded by such goodness. I am always so in awe of your strength, compassion, and testimonies. As long as we have each other, I'm sure we can get through anything that comes our way. We just need to open up those blinds to the light, take a deep breath, and keep on breathing.

So thanks, Debbie. I think we all needed to hear that today.