Let's talk about my talk

I was asked to give a talk in church today about why bad things happen to good people.  It was based on a talk from General Conference last month.

I first told the story of the man blind from birth.  The apostles asked Jesus who had sinned, this man or his parents, to have him born blind.  Jesus explained that no one had sinned, but that he had this so that the works of God could be made manifest in him.

When I thought about the reasons bad things happened to good people, I wanted to make a list, but this scripture kept coming to mind, and I knew that this is the only reason--to make the works of God manifest in us.  Things happen to people, and how we choose to see them is our test to see if we will choose happiness and life (Christ and his healing) or misery and death (any other choice).

I told them I felt like I should share three stories with them, the first one being lame.

Story number one, the lame one:
A couple of weeks ago, right before Brother Harris asked me to speak, I was at a meeting at the stake center with my husband.  Right as the meeting ended, a huge rainstorm hit our area and buckets of water were coming down from the sky.  We stood on the porch of the stake center looking out to our car and decided to make a run for it.  We put our folders over our ducked heads and ran as fast as we could to the car.  When I yanked the door opened, I pulled it right into my eye, hard.  I got in and put my hand over my eye in the dark and felt it hurt all the way home.  What happened?  I'm usually pretty coordinated and I was doing the right thing, serving in my calling!  Lame, right?

Story number two, the one about Abby Ward:
When we lived in Michigan, our friends Dan and Janie Ward lived just a few blocks from us and were in our ward.  We traded babysitting and grew to know and love their kids, Andy (Mariah and Eliza's age) , Abby and Jake (Wyatt's age).  Abby was brilliant and larger than life.  She loved chemistry and played the piano.  This summer, they were all together and having a great time as Andy returned from his mission to Sweden and Abby had just been called to the same mission.  One day in June, Abby and Jake went hiking in Little Cottonwood Canyon, near their home in Utah.  As they were climbing a waterfall, Abby lost her footing and fell 50 feet to the bottom and landed, unconscious in a pool.  Jake scrambled down to pull her out of the pool, administer CPR and call 911.  A helicopter came and life flighted her to University of Utah hospital.  She suffered severe traumatic brain injury and was in a coma for a long time.  I thought her parents' posts on social media were so tender, inspiring, and full of faith that they were worth sharing:

Day 12. My beautiful 18 year old daughter has been in a coma for 12 days. We wait. Waiting is so hard. It's so hard to be patient and to watch events that we were going to do slip by on the calendar. It is hard to "take it 3 days at a time" when each minute is excruciating. It is hard to look at events in the future and realize that they don't matter, because our entire world has changed. It is hard to be strong and faithful while I am so tired and frustrated.

We have been encouraged during therapy sessions. They sit her up, she holds her head up a little better now, she opens her eyes a little, blinks, and sometimes obeys a few commands. She's in there. She's so determined. She has always been driven and has been able to achieve so much and overcome so many obstacles in her life.

This is no exception--at least I hope it's not. I know she's in there trying to make her body work. She is fighting hard and conquering this trial like she has so many before. 

After making such progress, she's having a set back now. She has an infection somewhere and now she has a fever to prove it. I feel like this should be a small set back, but small set backs don't feel small. They feel like insurmountable mountains and our discouragement grows.

But then I look at her, I feel her presence, I see her peaceful face, and I somehow know it will be ok and I find that my hope is returned.

Please keep praying for a miracle, this will take a miracle to heal Abby. I'm placing my tender broken heart and my trust in my God "for with God nothing is impossible" Luke 1:37

15 days. I feel like months have passed, but time is standing still at the same time. My heart is getting familiar with the constant ache. We put up a bunch of pictures of Abby on the wall of her hospital room. All the kind people caring for her love to see her and the glimpses the pictures provide into her bigger than life personality. They show her healthy, happy, and full of life.

I had a moment yesterday of sadness and anger when I wanted to take them all down so I would not be reminded of her before the injury. I didn't want to remember her perfect personality; her extreme passion; her amazing determination; her trip to Europe, her diagnosis, treatment, and recovery from cancer just under two years ago; her broken leg from getting hit by a car; her love of the mountains; her love of hiking and skiing; her love of photography. There were so many thoughts of sadness that were overwhelming. I kept asking and telling myself, "Why?" and "What a waste!"

I quickly pushed those thoughts out of my mind. No matter what happens, I will never forget the amazing girl I have and all the experiences we have shared. Seeing her pictures everyday is a beautiful reminder of a life well lived and a life worth fighting for, and a reason for constant HOPE for the future.

Having the thought of wanting the pictures down was a moment of letting discouragement and fear take over. It's so easy to be scared of the unknown. This is a time of a lot of unknowns for us. When will she wake up? How long will she be in the hospital? How bad is the brain injury? Can she recover? How long will recovery take?, Should I play music for her to stimulate the brain or keep it totally quiet to let it heal? How will this all affect the rest of the family? The list of questions goes on and on. It is completely overwhelming if I dwell on it. I have decided I will not or at least try not to dwell and worry on all these questions.

I have to take the situation one day (or three days) at a time, doing my best, trusting that God will help me figure this out. That He will know I could never do this alone and carry me and guide me when I'm not strong enough. I don't know what I would do without that knowledge. It grounds me and gives me hope. That knowledge combined with some amazing and supportive people in my life will get me through.

Thank you for supporting our conquering hero! Thank you for supporting us.

Please keep praying, hoping, and loving Abby!  ❤️ ❤️ 

Over the past 19 days I've had many emotions and felt like my faith was being tested minute by minute. It really is the hardest thing to watch my child suffer, not knowing how it will end, or when it will end, and not be able to help or comfort her. I know that through this experience, I am being refined and made better, more compassionate, more patient, more trusting, more faithful, more kind, more aware of others' trials.

Of course, I want these traits, but I wish it was not something I had to learn this way. While I am learning a lot, I know that this is not about me and that ultimately this is Abby's trial. She will learn all of these things and many more and this will strengthen and add depth and definition to her life. She is already such a strong and faithful girl and she is teaching me, as her mother, much about what's truly important in life. Watching her fight hard everyday is amazing. I am so proud to be her mom!

Thank you to all of you kind people who are helping us through this journey. Whether it's through nice notes, gifts, visits, meals, or just sending love our way, we truly could not do this without you.

Thank you for all the love! Keep praying for our girl! Every prayer and thought is heard and felt, it is working!  💙 💛 💙 💛 #conqueringheroesforabby

People all over the country who know and love Abby fasted for her, and each small victory she has had as she has slowly, slowly recovered, has been known and recognized as a miracle.  On October 18, she started talking finally, and her first words were thanking all the people who have prayed for her.  She is know talking more, starting to play the piano, starting to walk with assistance.  My hope is that she will be able to fulfill her mission to Sweden.  Missionaries in that mission have been praying for her too.

Story number three, about the Nielson cousins:

My sister posted this picture on her blog of the four Nielson cousins born in 1974.  They are my sister, Kirsta, my cousin Valerie (one of the handful of diehard Chiefs fans in Utah), my cousin Lynnette, and my cousin Ryan.

On October 26, Ryan was hiking with his uncle and dad and brothers and they lost track of him.  They never found him all that night, and he wasn't answering his phone.  In the very early morning hours, his brother found him at the bottom of a 150 foot drop.  He left behind his true love Erin and 6 beautiful kids between the ages of 15 and 2.  This was such a hard thing!  But here is what Erin says:

I'm grateful for the knowledge that I'll see my handsome cowboy again. And I know he's close by watching over us. What a bittersweet time this is! People have been so good to us. Everything from the amazing Gofundme account kind Kimi Pieper set up and SO many of you have donated to to friends who've stopped and brought food or gifts or simply texted to check on me. We've been so touched by all the people caring and praying for us. I took pictures of many of the unexpected ways people have shown their love for us and I plan to share these during the next week or so. (Some things I didn't get pictures of though or might not have seen while I've been in bit of a drecky fog, so please don't be offended if I fail to mention something you did.) #myhandsomecowboy #familiesareforever.

Then on November 10, my cousin Lynette lost her husband when he took his own life and will be raising her five children alone.  This was another very hard thing--so much sadness in such a short amount of time.

My sister is having a very full life right now, and she wrote a blog post not long ago about having so little to give, especially to the people she loves the most right now.

My days have become full. More full than I would choose if I were left to my own choosing. Because of just how life is (which is mostly ironic, it turns out:)) I find myself working every day, studying in every spare moment, receiving texts from friends about play dates I can't take my kids to, and doing laundry, food, and chores during study breaks. Most days I feel like I have so very little to give. Especially to the people that matter the most to me.

It's definitely stretching me in new ways. And stretching can hurt at times. I know that those are growing pains and that the more I do the more I will be able to do. Alan Wimmer's words often run through my head these days: Do more, be more.

By Sunday I was feeling overwhelmed and like it was going to be too hard to go on. This feeling was the "wound" that I took with me to church asking for much needed grace and mercy. I have received capacity that isn't my own in response to my need.  The funny thing is that if I chose everything I wanted and were never pushed to my limits I would never have the opportunity to see where God's grace enters my life.

I can't say how enlightening it has been to be studying grace this year and searching for it wherever I go. Watching Will and Ivy at gymnastics has taken on more meaning than ever for me. Ivy's next skill to learn so she can move up is a handstand, kick-over to a bridge. For whatever reason, this skill has been especially hard for her to learn. Every time she does it, she falls on her head. Every time. BUT, she continues to try. I know that the more she tries, the more she will build muscles (and flexibility) in the right places to be able to do it.

That's what this time in my life is for. I'm falling on my head a lot. BUT, it makes me look for new ways to handle things. It makes me gain muscles and flexibility in places I have never had muscles or flexibility. This is how it's done. This is how the Lord makes me more than I am.

Then I told about Elder Holland's talk in conference a couple of years ago about another set of brothers who went hiking and found themselves on a precarious, high ledge with no place to go but up or a very long way down.  One brother helped the other brother up and then prepared to make one last ditch effort to jump up himself, first sending his brother away to go look for a branch while he made a desperate attempt that was likely to end in failure and plunging to his death.  As he jumped as high as he could, he gained enough purchase to start to grab the top, but then felt himself with nothing to hold and started to slip.  Suddenly, he was grabbed by the strong arms of his brother, who pulled him safely to the top.  

Now, said Elder Holland, "we celebrate the gift of victory over every fall we have ever experienced, every sorrow we have ever known, every discouragement we have ever had, every fear we have ever faced—to say nothing of our resurrection from death and forgiveness for our sins."

Where does that leave me with my lame story?  Well, I can at least look for the blessings.  I can at least start to try to see the works of God manifest in my life.  I know for certain I was protected.  When I got home, I didn't even have a black eye, and my vision wasn't affected.  The only loss I had was a rather large chunk of eyelashes was pulled out, and I don't know where they are. (The freeway?  The stake center parking lot?)  I was on the Lord's errand, and I'm pretty sure he sent angels to speed me on my way that night.  The other tender mercy was that I was with Alan that night, and he, more than any other human, is a comforting presence to me.  That is always a good thing.

I then testified that if we look with an eye of faith, that the Lord will be there to succor us in our afflictions.  That he will be there with strong arms to save us from all of our falls.  I know this to be true.

I forgot to thank the many people in our ward who have suffered hard trials and let me see a little of that, along with a lot of their inspiring faith.  I also forgot to end with the quote from the talk I meant to:

God invites us to respond with faith to our own unique afflictions in order that we may reap blessings and gain knowledge that can be learned in no other way. We are instructed to keep the commandments in every condition and circumstance, for “he that is faithful in tribulation, the reward of the same is greater in the kingdom of heaven.”6 And as we read in scripture, “If thou art sorrowful, call on the Lord thy God with supplication, that your souls may be joyful.”7

The Apostle Paul, himself no stranger to affliction, drew from his own experience to teach with depth and beauty the eternal perspective that comes when we endure well and with patience. He said, “For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.”8 In other words, we can know in the midst of our afflictions that God has provided an eternal compensating reward.