The Quiet of a Storm, Part II

Today, I share a personal story that is an example of the Lord's love and wisdom. He has awesome capacity to perform miracles in our lives, even when an unexpected outcome is not what the world would think might be best.

In October, Heath and I found out we were expecting. This was entirely unexpected. What was even more unexpected were the feelings of exhilaration and excitement I had upon finding out. My son was only 21 months old at the time. I had some concerns, and I was still sort of in denial when I went to the doctor at six weeks, but when I saw the tiny heartbeat, I smiled and began to really embrace the idea. Still, I tried to keep myself at least a little detached, waiting for week twelve to get here before I made any announcements or pulled out any maternity clothes. Yet I could not help but begin to feel excited, especially about telling Jesstyn. Sadly, on Saturday, November 12th, I began to bleed. The doctor said to wait until Monday to come in unless the bleeding was really heavy.

I knelt in prayer and poured out my heart, pleading with the Lord to save the pregnancy if that is what would be best for us at this time. Nevertheless, I acknowledged that He can see our lives more clearly than I can and I expressed my willingness to accept any outcome, knowing that He would not give me any trial I could not bear. I closed my prayer and rested for a while.

Though the outcome was still unknown, I think I spent part of Sunday submitting to the belief that I was miscarrying. Though the bleeding had subsided, it did not stop. I came to understand that this would likely be a loss and began preparing myself to have that confirmed on Monday. Although many feelings of sorrow came to me, something else came with them: powerful love and gratitude for my husband and two children. Pure joy and a cherished vision of each of them came to my eyes anew. I knew that the Lord wanted me to carry away these new visions from this experience. So I was really already at peace about it before I heard the news. We scheduled the D&C for Wednesday, Nov 16th. The feelings of joy have continued after the surgery as I cherish the time I have with my children and look forward to playing with them more than I did before. In particular, a much stronger bond has formed between myself and my son, James.

When Jesstyn was born, she was the granting of a very long and drawn out desire to have a child of our very own. We miscarried once before she was conceived. I am seeing now that our two miscarriages are mirror images of one another emotionally. I have often thanked the Lord for the strong bond I formed with my daughter during her first year of life. It was filled with some of the most intensely joyful feelings I have ever felt. Because of the first miscarriage, I deeply desired to enjoy every single moment of mothering my first baby. And I took the time to do it.

When James was born, however, there were many more difficulties associated with his birth and first year that left me feeling emotionally detached from him. I longed for the same feelings of exhilaration that came with baby Jesstyn, but they were only there in fleeting moments. It seemed that I could not relate to this little boy as well, or that I was not capable of devoting as much of myself to him. Now, with the passing of another miscarriage, the Lord has taken my heart and stitched it together with my son's and we are knit together as closely as we ever could have been. My eyes are open wider to see the joy in his eyes as he discovers new things and masters new skills each day.

My husband and I have grown closer through all of this as well. I know that it is not easy to pass through the loss of a child, unborn or not. I know that everyone's experience is different. I do not wish to belittle anyone's sorrow, for I know that there are many experiences much, much worse than mine. I just can't help but share how this experience, for me, has strengthened my faith in the Lord. He does know our needs. He knows what will help us grow. Someone said in church one Sunday that the Lord loves us enough to allow us to hurt so that we can grow and become better from it. I know He knows what is best.

I must say that through all of this, my perspective and pain would have been much worse if I did not have the light of the gospel of Jesus Christ in my heart. My surgery happened on the 14th anniversary of my baptism into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I cannot think that this is mere coincidence. Because of this Church, I know that this life is a test of our faith. I know that the Lord loves me and would not allow me to pass through anything I could not handle, as long as I rely on Him for help. I know that He intends for me to learn from my experiences. I also know that families can be together forever and that our relationships in families will endure beyond this lifetime. I know that there will be opportunity for me to have more children in the future, whether immediate or in eternity. Knowing all this as well as having the Gift of the Holy Ghost to guide me, and being a woman who has made covenants with the Lord, all work together to help me through trials such as these. So I will not allow my loss to place any seeds of doubt about whether or not there is a God or whether or not He cares for me. On the contrary, the blessings that have come to us because of this loss are proof to me that God does exist and that He is very active in our lives in trying to orchestrate experiences that will make not only us, but our families, better and happier.

Lately, it seems as though we, as well as our extended family, have been bombarded with trials all at once. As I've pondered this, I remembered the snowstorm I wrote about two years ago. A weekend that was to be filled with the hectic frenzy of the holidays turned out to be a quiet, cherished weekend enjoying my husband and daughter. Now it seems as though our family has entered a snowstorm of trials and I can't help but wonder whether the Lord is trying to help us to be quiet and still, and know that He is God and there is still much joy to be found in this life.

White Doves and Gratitude

Today was wonderful! This is not the first time this has happened to me, where a period that feels like a mist of darkness is followed by a day that is simply perfect. I mean, so perfect that I grew more and more pleasantly astonished as the afternoon turned to evening and the day continued to be filled with joy and goodness.

Okay, okay, so the morning did not start off the greatest, I guess, now that I think about it. The time change helped my 21-month-old wake up at 5 am asking for “ro-ro's” (cheerios). And I went to bed late the night before. I laid in bed until he brought me a marker with no lid. Then I figured I'd better get up and see what he was up to in the next room. It helped my attitude that he had not marked on anything but himself and I was hungry, too. So we shared a bowl. These early morning wakings also afford us more time to just play and look at books. It was time for me to enjoy my son. When it was time, we woke up sister with a cheerio book and the morning was off. Somehow, I stayed on task and everyone was happy and she got on the bus on time with all of her breakfast actually in her tummy.

Then I was able to go back to sleep for an hour before my husband left for work. This made up for the 5 am awakening. We said another prayer together before my husband left for work, a humble plea for help at the beginning of a new week.

So...then we played trains. Then I was able to accomplish a few things while James played by himself. Oh, okay and I guess nap time went a little awry, too...didn't feed him enough lunch, apparently. But somehow it didn't mess up my day. He still went down for his nap and I still had plenty of time before Jesstyn got home. Then I was inspired to write. And I finished a chapter! The chapter I'd been trying to finish for a year and a half! Hello!? That was awesome. And the timing was just perfect. I finished right before Jesstyn got off the bus and James woke up.

And when I went outside to get her, it was a beautifully perfect day! Picturesque. Except a picture can't convey the perfect temperature and the feel of the sunlight or the crunch of the leaves. Or the shrieks of laughter from my children or the thrill in their eyes as they played. My dad came by for a surprise visit. We raked up the biggest pile of leaves of the season. Jesstyn made leaf angels. We went over to our neighbor's house and picked some turnips that were beautiful.

The highlight of the afternoon, though, was watching two white doves fly above our heads. It was the first time I'd ever seen white doves. These magnificent creatures stood out brightly against all that was around them. No matter where they flew, we could still clearly see them. I was so impressed with their loveliness and thought it is no wonder that Heavenly Father chose this bird as a symbol of his Holy Spirit. Those who are filled with the Holy Ghost are a light to the world and all who are around them. The Spirit brings an amazing light to our understanding.

My father and I gazed at them in wonder. I commented on their whiteness and he told me of a vase he created in honor of my mother. It has three candles at the top, the middle one higher. It stands for Christ and the two side candles are for the thieves who were crucified beside him. The base is snow white. He said, with tears in his eyes and his face turning red, “That is what your mother is to me.” He paused and added, “I know none of us are perfect and white, but to me, that's what she is.” I nodded as I gazed into his eyes and felt thankful for him and his genuine love for my mother.

We said good-bye to “PePop” and went inside to do homework. We had an early dinner and used our “Thanking Cap” inspired by last night's Family Night lesson, where we had to say five things we were thankful for when wearing the cap. The sun set. We caught the beautiful scene out the front window of the glow of descending twilight on the yellow-leaved trees. We had time for baths. We had time for a card game together with Daddy when he got home. We read scriptures. My daughter said our prayer and she said “We thank thee...” for more than just “this day.” I enjoyed putting my son to bed. I enjoyed a conversation on the phone and the feeling of helping someone. Now I am writing about it all. It is the way a day should end.

What is different about this day? Certainly, the Lord intervened. Yet does he not intervene each and every day of my life to give me blessings, even many times blessings I do not deserve? What was different about today?

The difference was that I felt grateful for it. Because I was not busy being negative or complaining or worrying or stressing or feeling behind or feeling obligated or feeling resentful or feeling disconnected...I was free to feel joy.

I felt so much joy that I could not help but feel grateful for it. Grateful to the Lord, whose hand is in my life each day. How much clearer I see my life when I acknowledge His hand in it! D&C 59:21 says, “And in nothing doth man offend God, or against none is his wrath kindled, save those who confess not his hand in all things.”

Instead of lamenting the loss of sleep, I enjoyed the time with my son, hoping that I would sleep later. When the morning went well, I was pleased. When I napped, I was grateful. When I kept a slow pace so I could just play with my son, I enjoyed watching him learn how to properly play with the train set. When I worked on some things for the end of the year, I was not unhappy about it taking up my time, but was grateful to have the time to do it before life got too busy and overwhelming with the holidays. When my son wouldn't go to sleep, I was still able to let those events flow with my housework and still get things done – and I was happy for it to work out that way. When I sat down to write, I prayed for inspiration and then received it. I was so grateful.

I continued throughout the day to notice its beauty and how well the timing of everything was working out. Each time I took note of a blessing, my thoughts were underscored by the knowledge that it wasn't my doing; it was the Lord's. That is what made the difference. My husband told me about the beautiful doves just yesterday. He sees them often, apparently, but I told him I'd never noticed them. And do you know what he said? “Look up sometimes.” Today, I did.