Faith

"Hold the ground you have already won. Be true to the faith you have."
~Holland

 The past few weeks, my heart has been so very heavy. I have tried so hard to be faithful, to believe, and to have hope that things will be ok.  A couple weeks ago, as I met with my Bishop, I sat sobbing, as I told him how tired I was, how overwhelmed, and how quickly I was losing hope for my sweet son.  He had me read some scriptures, and told me that I needed to be very specific in my needs for my son in prayer.  I have been trying my friends.  My heart has been broken, and I have begged and pleaded with the Lord for my son.  I know He hears me. I know He is blessing him, and me.

Today, as I listen to Conference, Elder Holland's talk spoke to my heart.  It was the answer I sought for all of these long months. "A partial blessing, a glimmer of hope"....  that is all I ask now.  

My heart is too full, to speak all that I feel inside.  Please listen to his words.  I have already listened to it 4 times today, and learn something each time I hear it.  The words he speaks about the Mother of the child that is waiting to be healed by Jesus, are the words I have spoken in sacred prayer too many times to count.  

 "Hold fast onto what you already know, and stand strong until additional knowledge comes."

He is Risen!

 

"He is risen! He is risen!

He hath opened heaven's gate.
We are free from sin's dark prison,
Risen to a holier state.
And a brighter Easter beam
On our longing eyes shall stream."

My heart has been so full this week.  I have been praying for miracles.  So many I love have been struggling, I have been struggling.  There have been some very real, and very hard things we have struggled through as a family, and as individuals.  

I've been praying so hard for those I love who are struggling, For Adam, and Reagan. I pray constantly for my Wyatt Boy, and I've been praying for myself.

I felt discouraged earlier in the week, and felt like my miracle would not come.  I wonder if that is a bit of what Mary felt as she went to the tomb to attend to Christ's body, discouraged, overwhelmed, sad.  And when she got there, thinking he had been moved, she did not know what to do, so she cried.  I imagine her faith might have wavered a bit in that moment, as she poured her heart out to God, wondering why she did not have her miracle after all her suffering.  And then, as Christ spoke to her, and she realized who he was, that he had indeed Risen, and her miracle came.  I felt that way this week.  Discouraged, overwhelmed, and sad.  Wondering when and if my miracle that I have prayed, and begged for would ever come.  Then in a tender moment, as tears filled my eyes, as I spoke to my sweet girl, about the miracle that is Christ's birth, life, and the miracle of his Resurrection, as I explained to her, that when she hurts, he hurts, and that he knows.  As I told her about praying for peace, and help when she is sad, or worried, and that it will always come.  It was then as I choked back tears as I told her that he died for her, so that she would never be alone, even when she felt so very alone, and that he died so that she could live again with us, and Heavenly Father, my miracle came.  

It did not come as I prayed, or as I had planned.  But what came, was exactly what I needed.  My heart was filled was love, and understanding for God's love for me.  I was reminded that even when I feel so very alone, I am not.  There is One that knows. There is One, that has taken that pain, and has stood by my side weeping with me as I have hurt.  There is One that knows the pain of my sweet boy, and comforts him when I cannot.  And there is a Father in Heaven, that knows just what I am feeling as I watch my baby suffer.  He weeps with me, and he knows how broken my heart is.  And He will heal me.  He will heal Wyatt. I know it won't be today, and it won't be tomorrow.  It will take time, and it may be a hard trial forever, but with his stripes I am healed.

On this Easter Sunday, when that very first Easter Miracle occurred, my heart is full of gratitude for a all knowing and loving Father who sent his perfect Son to die for ME.  For my Boy, my sweet girl, and my love.  He allowed his perfect son, to suffer, and bleed, and finally die for me.  And then, as promised, when three days had past, He rose again, and through that miracle, bound us to him forever.  

My heart is full. 

Faith in Action

I hesitate to share this yet, but it keeps coming to me, so I guess I will.

This month, it seems like the floodgates of financial problems have opened.  We lost our sons full coverage insurance, and now we face massive medical bills, expensive medicine, formula, tests, and specialist that we have to pay for.  Both of our cars need major repairs that we were not expecting and cannot afford. 

In times of financial crisis, it is very difficult to pay tithes to our church, but is a promise we have made to do.  We reached the "should we, or shouldn't we" talk again the other day.  It is hard to see how spending money we need desperately for other things, will benefit us fixing what we need.  Although, every time that we do, we are incredibly blessed. 

I am positive that this time will be no different.  As I handed in our tithes, I prayed once again, that the Lord would see our wiliness to be righteous, even during difficultly, that He would see our faith, and would provide a way for us to fix our cars, and pay our bills. 

Each time I pray, I have flashes of thought come to my mind, that all will be well, if we are faithful, and pay our tithes.  It has been promised to me countless times. 

I know the Lord will bless us.

Humbling

Tonight, I called my sister in tears.  I was overwhelmed, exhausted, and stressed out beyond words.  There is a lot happening in my world, and some days, when I haven't had any rest, it becomes too much.  It was late.  Very late, but since we both seem to carry late hours with our sweet kids, I took a gamble and called her, before I had a complete emotional break on the freeway. 

Ever have those days where it all hits you at once?  She listened as I cried, and poured out my soul and told her how bad my life was, and how I didn't know how to fix it.  I cried as I told her about my boy, and my worries for him, and how I did everything I could to help him get better, but I just didn't know what else to do.  My heart was lifted, as we talked, and it was exactly what I needed. 

I was at the store picking up medicine, and milk, and as I left, feeling much better than when I walked in, I saw an old cripple man, homeless, in a old wheelchair, searching through the trash can, and eating food he found in there.  My heart broke, as I watched him shiver in the cold, and try and maneuver his wheel chair around.  He looked at my kids, and his face lit up.  He told me how beautiful and perfect they were, and how much light and hope they had in their eyes.  I agreed, and dug into my wallet, and slipped him some money.  I couldn't shake the feeling of sadness and pity I had for this poor man.  I always feel so sad and compassionate for the homeless people I see.  It breaks me, and I feel helpless as what to do.  Tonight, as I prayed in my heart for him, with everything inside of me, begging to know what to do to help him in some way, I felt the strongest feeling to take him some food.  I worried he would be gone by the time I found somewhere open, but luckily when I returned, he was still there, digging in the trash.  I handed him his dinner, told him I hoped it would be a nice treat, and it would help him to know how much God loved him.  He told me I looked stunning, and that he hoped God would bless me too.  As I walked away with tears in my eyes, trying not to sob, I knew that He already had. 

When I got back to the car, I tried to explain to Reagan why he was eating trash, and why he was living outside.  Not an easy task with an inquisitive 4 year old.  I told her that he was someone's Grandpa, and he was special as all of God's children are.  I told her it was very sad, because he didn't have a home, or a bed, or even food to eat.  That he didn't have anyone to watch out for him like she did.  I told her that he was probably very cold, and sad, and that Heavenly Father needed us to help watch out for people that didn't have anyone because we are very blessed.  I told her that Heavenly Father takes care of everyone, and that she shouldn't be scared, but when she got older, I wanted her to help other people when she saw that they needed it. 

I often have the words come to my mind: “God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through another person that he meets our needs” President Spencer W. Kimball

Tonight, I felt this promise 3 fold.  First, through the comfort I found in my sister's words.  Second, through serving the homeless man.  And third, and most importantly tonight, I was blessed by the homeless man, by understanding several truths; that no matter how terrible, hard, and dreary your life may seem, there is always someone else that has it worse than you; that when I pray for help and peace, the Lord will bless me to see my life through someone else's eyes, see my blessings, and that he will bless me to be able to serve someone else.  

As I spoke to Reagan tonight, about the homeless man, I cried.  I was sad for him, but mostly my heart was full, I had been humbled, but I was caught on fire with the Spirit, blessing me to know what to do, and how to do it.  Even though it was a small gesture, I think that my actions, helped that man to know that he was loved, and God was watching out for him.  When I spoke to her, I told her how loved she was, and how lucky we were that we had a home, and a bed, and food.  We may be struggling in many other ways, but we are so blessed to have the basic needs, that many do not have.  We are so lucky.  So very, very lucky.  We are not hungry, in fact, despite a hard financial situation, we have enough food to be ok for at least a month.  We have beds, warm bedding, more than one pair of clothes.  We have phones, and many people who love us.  We are not alone, in every sense.  We are very loved, and very blessed.

4 Years

4 years ago, my Dad finished up his last cancer treatment.  Every year, at this time since then, he has to go into the Cancer Center, and have a bunch of tests done, and be checked to see if it has come back.  Then he has to wait a full week, before he sees the doctor and finds out his results. 

Needless to say, there is a whole lot of praying that has been happening in our house this month leading up to his appointments. 

Prayers for health, healing, and a strong body.  Prayers that everything will be ok, but mostly prayers to understand God's will, help us accept it, and for peace.

Thankfully, things were looking good.  And in one more year, we will breathe a little easier, the 5 year mark is something special. 

There is an added strength we get from such obviously answered prayers for healing and health.  Moments like this bolster my faith, and help me get through the times where it is a bit weaker. 

Thoughts

I'm still here.  My sweet boy has been pretty sick, and I have been distracted with that.

The past week, there has been a common theme.  I've heard it from friends, close family, and others I have come across.  I've also read it in blog posts from strangers that feel like life long friends.

Life can be so hard.  And that's ok.  It's ok to know that your life is hard, and it's ok to feel upset that it's hard.  Sometimes, I think we feel like we have to be positive every second of every day.  We feel like we have to show others only the best of ourselves, and that talking about, or showing that our life can be difficult is a sign of weakness, makes up lose ground with people we want to feel equal too, and makes us seem ungrateful for what we have.  I really struggle with this.  I feel like owning how difficult my life can be means that I am not grateful for the good things that I have.  Owning our struggle does not make us weak.  It makes us human, and it helps others to feel emotion with us.  This is how we connect, and how we share our lives, and allow other to help us.  Sharing our weakness with others, and our struggles, can also bless others who are struggling, knowing they are not alone, and that someone has been where they have been.

I realized today, that this connection that we share, when we share our struggles with others, is how The Lord allows others to bless us, and in turn, helps us to feel the blessings of the Atonement. 

2 Corinthians 12:8-9: For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me. And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.

I cannot tell you have many times I have been on my knees, sobbing, begging for The Lord to take a trial away from me, make it easier, or make me stronger.  I often forget that I am being made stronger through my weaknesses.  What a blessing that promise is.

I'm Back :)

I kind of failed for about a month there on my goal. But I'm back now :) My apologies for disappearing for a bit.

This week has been rough. I haven't had much sleep, and I feel like I have never needed it more.  My boy has been struggling.  He always struggles, but he has really, really been struggling the last month.  It has been hard on me, to try and comfort a comfortless boy.  My heart has been broken for him, and full of constant prayer.  Some nights, it feels like He is not hearing me, as I sob with my sobbing in pain boy, pray, and beg for relief and comfort for him, and for answers to come to me to how to help him.  I know, that without him, it would be worse, but in those moments of desperation, it is just. so. hard. to feel heard. 

Some nights, when things are very hard, and I feel so desperate for him, and for myself, thoughts come to me about before he was born, and when I struggled to keep him alive inside me.  Those were dark days. They were so hard.  I begged for the Lord to keep him alive, to let him live, and be mine.  I longed for the days with him, holding him, rocking him, and comforting him, and singing him to sleep.  I dreamt about what his life would be when he came, and who he would be, and how I could help him.  I loved him since I dreamed about him years ago, and in the moment I knew he was to be mine, I knew that I would do whatever it took to let him live a full, wonderful life. 

I realized today, that those incredibly difficult days of praying for this baby to be conceived, then praying for him to survive my pregnancy and birth, those days, where preparing me to love him, and comfort him through these hard days now.  His pain, long sleepless nights, and days filled with screaming and crying, do not inconvenience me, or anger me.  His pain, is my pain, his joy, and moments of triumph are mine.  I think this most be a little bit of what Heavenly Father feels.  He feels every bit of anguish, pain, and despair we feel, and just like I feel for my boy, our joy, and moments of triumph are his.

Hard nights like this, are when the Atonement comes alive for me.  I always felt like people only notice the blessings of it during the good times, and after the storm had passed, not in the thick of it.  I guess He knows I need it now, and not when this trial is over.