Spritual Cure-All (Part 1)

I've had a rip-roarer of a summer. Lots of ups and downs and busy times. Mostly quite a bit of stress based on The Unknown. Isn't the unknown the worst kind of stress sometimes? I once read a quote:

"There is no pain so exquisite as the agony of suspense." --- Joseph Smith

So, this past week, just as things seemed to really pile up (including, but not limited to, learning of the failure of a marriage of someone very close, a health crisis for one of my children, and having to be the one to choose to put down our cute little doggy due to the ravages of cancer) I was getting pretty overwhelmed by it all.


It wasn't exactly a "Why me?" It was more a "Woe is me," putting my head in my hands and slowly shaking it back and forth. Isn't life like that often? When it rains it pours? Or we have periods of time when all these hard things happen seemingly at once?


Well, I was trying like crazy to keep this all in perspective, and to not let myself wallow. But it was kind of hard. I thought maybe if I did one of those psychology things where you write down all your things and then tear them up and throw them in the trash I'd get over it. However, I instead found I liked looking at my list of challenges and thinking about how tough things were. I stuck that list in the back of my scriptures and glanced at it in the mornings and took comfort in the idea that I was being tested. Warped, right?


So, that approach? Not helpful.


As I was studying the scriptures, I realized I'd been taught many times over the years in lessons, talks, and by the hymns, that gratitude might help me. There's the old standby

When upon life's billows you are tempest tossed

When you are discouraged thinking all is lost

Count your many blessings

Sigh. I decided I'd try it. I'd done it before. Not lately... but it had actually worked in the past.


So I looked up "thank" in the topical guide of the scriptures, and I found this.

2 Nephi 9:52

52 Behold, my beloved brethren, remember the words of your God; pray unto him continually by day, and give thanks unto his holy name by night. Let your hearts rejoice.

Several things hit me. I had been praying continually by day, through all these trials, but I hadn't been doing step two and three. I hadn't been as thankful, especially for the trials, as I should be, each night as I prayed. And I definitely hadn't heeded the counsel to LET my heart rejoice.


So, I decided I'd pull out my Wallow List from the back of my scriptures. It was about fifteen items long, all the heavy things I'd been facing for the past few months. Several of them had already worked themselves out. Well, God had worked them out.


An illness? Healed. And a greater appreciation of my general good health was gained. Losing the dog? Hard to see a good side to that, but the kids did gain an appreciation for the sacredness of life of all God's creatures. That was a good thing. My child's terrifying health challenge? Tests came back positive, and treatment is simple and not merely inexpensive--free. Wondrous!

And like this, I went down my list, taking note of how the Lord had supported me in my trials, and starting to be more thankful, and actually LETTING my heart rejoice.

And in no time, I found I had much to rejoice about. God has really blessed me, protected me, comforted me, in all these difficult things.


I realize that I'd often just brushed off the blessings of a relief of one trial with the whiny answer, "But I still have this one."


Yes, I am still in the midst of some difficult things. The "agony of suspense" remains.


But despite the struggle, I can still find the cure to it by gratitude. I really believe it might be the great cure to most ills.


God is good. His teaching bring peace.

Crying in the Darkness

One of the most dramatic and inspiring stories in the Book of Mormon, in my opinion comes in the 5th chapter of Helaman. In it, there are two missionaries imprisoned, bound, starved and their captors have come to kill them when a miracle occurs and they are delivered by a pillar of fire. Awesome. (I love the stories in this book so much.)



However, the part that struck me this morning was in verse 40 and 41, which comes later in the story, and doesn't happen to the missionaries, but to their fellow prisoners.


The prisoners have watched this miracle occur. And then they hear this voice out of heaven come to them. It tells them to repent and seek no more to destroy the servants of God. It comes two more times. The prisoners don't know what to do.

And then, a huge cloud of darkness comes and blots out all the light.


Okay. So that's got to be scary. Probably at the time the prison was some deep pit, too. (Just guessing.) They are really worried. They ask:

 40 And it came to pass that the Lamanites said unto him: What shall we do, that this cloud of darkness may be removed from overshadowing us?

And then a fellow-prisoner speaks up. His name is Aminadab, and he's been there with them a while. Probably not a great guy. Possibly a dissenter from God's path. But something awakens in this man and he knows what to do. Here's the quote:

 41 And Aminadab said unto them: You must repent, and cry unto the voice, even until ye shall have faith in Christ, who was taught unto you by Alma, and Amulek, and Zeezrom; and when ye shall do this, the cloud of darkness shall be removed from overshadowing you.

The thing that just slammed into my mind this morning was the "repent, cry unto the voice UNTIL ye shall have faith."




So, the repent thing isn't something that's going to take forever. It can be an instant change for them, a change of heart. But they still don't have faith, perhaps. But they have to cry unto the voice until they have faith.


Sometimes we've been in darkness. We are scared. We don't know what to do. We don't even know what to believe or how. But if we repent--soften our hearts and turn from hardness--then cry unto the Lord UNTIL we have faith, it is granted. The light does come.


In this story, as soon as they cry out for faith, the light comes. And understanding. Oh, yeah, and angels! (I told you this story was dramatic.)


But I also like the verb chosen: cry out. It's not the same word as pray. I sometimes think the word "pray" connotes a softness, a calm effort, a meditation almost.


Not this one. Instead, it's "cry out." This is an active, involved, urgently motivated calling upon God.


I'm pretty sure we've all been there at some point. I know I have. And I also know that the light does come. He loves us. He hears our cries.

How Should I Approach Prayer?

The Savior Jesus Christ visited the American continent after his death and resurrection. He taught them and blessed them and organized His church among them. The incident is recounted in the Book of Mormon, my favorite book. I love the Bible too and the stories of Christ's life in Jerusalem while He lived His perfect life of service on the Earth.




At the end of the first day of His teaching of the people in the New World, He told them He was going to leave, but that He would come again on the morrow, so please go gather up all their friends who hadn't been there that day.




However, then a miracle occurred--even beyond what miracle they'd experienced already. When He announced this, they looked on Him with tears in their eyes, as if they would ask him to stay.


They didn't have to say anything. He knew the desires of their hearts.




And because of the desire of their hearts, he said, in great love, that they could bring to Him their sick and afflicted, and that He would do for them what He'd done for their brethren in Jerusalem: heal them.




As I read this a few days ago, I thought about this, and several things struck me. One, that the Lord truly saw and knew the deep desires of their hearts. Two, that their eyes were trained on Him, and filled with emotion.




I wondered to myself, would that be a better way to approach my prayers? To (mentally/spiritually) train my eyes on Him, and then express my deepest desire to be healed, and for my loved ones to be healed physically and spiritually?




Maybe so. And I have a lot to learn about the true nature of prayer, it would seem.

On a morning quite a while ago, I was freaking out.


There were a lot of things going wrong with stuff I thought I'd had organized and squared away totally. But all my best-laid plans had gone awry. It was stuff I was doing for Church, and I was feeling pretty alone in my efforts, despite great support from my husband and some other people I serve with.


Still, the struggle persisted, and stuff had to be done and fixed and I was truly discouraged. I spent quite a bit of time on my knees. Should I admit that I was in tears too? I guess I will. Maybe it's good to tell people that I cry about stuff? I don't know. But there it is: I was crying. Probably ugly-crying (which is *obviously* why I had unexpected company show up in the midst of that morning. Luckily they only stayed a few minutes.)


Finally, I decided that I was going to do what I felt I should do in asking for help, and that I'd begged the Lord to help me with. Not knowing if what I was doing was right, or whether it was just a product of my own frenzied mind, I muscled through the fog of indecision and discouragement.


Within just a few minutes, like seriously, fifteen minutes, the situation resolved--to my huge relief and satisfaction and gratitude.


Later that morning I came across this scripture and it pierced me. I know it's true:


2 Peter 3:9


 9 The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward.


The Lord was so longsuffering with me. So kind. So gentle and helpful and generous in giving me what I needed as I was trying to serve. He'd promised to help me and guide me as I try to serve, and on this morning, He surely had not been slack concerning His promise.


He never is. He is true. He is unchanging. He is love. We can trust the goodness of our great God.

When You Have to Say No

Quite a few years ago, my husband was asked to serve in a certain position in the Church. His family has always taught him, just as mine has taught me, that when the Lord asks, the answer is yes.


However, in this case, there were some real complications to saying yes. Without going into detail, there were phone calls made to higher ups in the state as well as in the Church, and ultimately, my husband had to say no, he wouldn't be able to serve.


(Strangely to some, I'm sure) this was kind of a trial. Part of me wanted to know why the Lord wouldn't just let the issuers of the invitation know that my husband wasn't going to be able to do it and inspire them to move on to another man instead.


I thought about it for a long time.


It also made me reflect on something that had happened a couple years before that. I'd been serving as the president of an organization. At the time that organization seemed very difficult to staff with leaders. As president it was my responsibility to seek spiritual guidance and make recommendations on who might be right to serve with me. However, it seemed like my recommendations were regularly rejected. But I'd been so certain! I started wondering if I even had any right to inspiration or if I was just a total dud.


These two situations I juggled mentally for a long time. Finally, I talked with someone who suggested a completely different idea to me. He said,


Sometimes the Lord will inspire a leader to ask someone to serve, not because that person will ultimately fill the position, but so that the person being asked will know that the Lord considers them *worthy* to serve in that capacity. It is a confirmation to them that God loves them.


Huh. This put a new spin on things for me entirely. I reflected again on the many names I'd tendered to the bishop years before asking for help in my organization that were ultimately not selected. And I realized that the Lord hadn't given me bad information, and that He hadn't either left me high and dry. And that my spiritual guidance detector hadn't necessarily been broken. (Frankly, that was my greatest fear.)


And so, I realized too that this may relate to young men and women who have been out serving as missionaries and for one reason or another have come home before the originally planned time period, despite their worthiness and willingness to serve.


But I think it's good to recall that life is more of a "to be" list than a "to do" list. And the "to be" in all these cases comes down to those two "W" words: Willing and Worthy.


So, I guess those two "W" words are what I guess I should work on this week. And remembering that the Lord loves me. And you. And all of us. And He is aware of our hearts and wants to let us know in myriad ways of His great, abiding love.

When the Light Comes On

Last night when I got home from the youth group meeting (after being gone from 3 p.m. to almost 9:00), I was beat. But my 9 year-old said, "Mommy, can you help me with my math?"


Sigh. It has been a long year with the workbook she's using. It just won't click with her cute little mind. So we sat down and ... it was long division.


Do you remember learning long division? Was it the easiest, most fun thing ever? I'll wager my whole plate of blueberry muffins it wasn't.


I had a feeling we had a long night ahead of us.


Step by step I worked the first problem. Then I handed her the pencil and walked her through the second problem. And the third, and the fourth. Then on the fifth, I put her on her own. She started great. And got stuck. She couldn't remember to bring down the digit. So I drew an arrow on all the earlier problems, and then she drew the arrow on her own and brought it down. The visual clue kind of helped.


She worked it, found the answer, and then ... the smile. "Oh, Mommy. I think I get it."


She didn't. On the next three problems she got stuck in the same place after bringing down the digit.
But with a little reminder, telling her to look at the problems she'd done earlier for the steps, she did get it. She did!


Then I wrote down the steps:
1- Goes into
2- Multiply
3- Subtract
4- Bring down
Repeat 1, 2, 3, 4.


Maybe that won't make sense to anyone else, but it was how we were talking it out. I wrote it in the front cover of her workbook.


She worked the rest of the problems--including the story problems, and anyone out there who doesn't give a slight shudder at the term "story problem" ... is pretty much alone.


When we shut the book an hour later, she said, "Mommy! Long division is easy!"


The light had come on. And it shone! Not some dull little 20 watt bulb, either.


She went to bed happy, and so did I.


So this morning, I helped her double check last night's work with multiplication, and she still remembered the formula and still thought it was easy.


Is that success? I submit to you, gentle readers, that it is.


So now I sat here remembering the sweetness of it and thinking, I wonder if this is how the Lord feels when he has given us a challenge, walked us through it a few times, held our hand, given us the chance to work it out ourselves, and then sees us think we learned it, and then sees us rejoice when the light of understanding and growth really comes on.


I truly believe He rejoices with us. And I believe He gives us problems--including stuff akin to long division, and even worse, story problems of life, and the guidance to get through them. Best of all, His Son was there to set the example for how to get through any and all of our struggles. He felt the pain and will bless us through them.


He is the perfect Teacher.


I love Him so dearly.

Finding Peace in Times of Despair

A dear friend of mine lost a child last month, right before Christmas. He was a sweet little boy, so precious. Their loss is terrible and heartbreaking.
And yet, as I read how she is faring, through all the sorrow, I continue to see positivity, strength, faith and hope.
How does she do it?
Well, all her posts refer to her great belief that there is life after this life, that death is not the end, that the children who belong to us here will be ours even after we die, that families are forever--in other words, that the eternal family is part of God's great plan for His children.
In times of extremity we can feel to despair. Without sure knowledge, how can we help but feel tempted to do so? However, setting aside doubt is possible. And when we do, when we let go of doubt, we can find incredible peace. It's like a door in our souls opens up and lets in a wash of light that brings happiness and hope and direction.
I admire my dear friend's faith, and especially her willingness to sacrifice her doubt. Because that's what it is--a sacrifice. Her strength is a strength to me. I think of the losses I've faced in my own life, though not the same as hers, and I can see that belief is so much happier and better than unbelief. Surrendering the crutch of doubt lets me run in the light of faith.