Finding the Good...

"I'll lend to you for a little time,
A child of mine," He said,
"For you to love the while she lives
And mourn for when she's dead.
 
"It may be six or seven years
Or twenty-two or three,
But will you till I call her back,
Take care of her for me?
 
"She'll bring her charms to gladden you
And should her stay be brief,
You'll have these precious memories
As solace for your grief.
 
"I cannot promise she will stay
Since all from earth return.
But there are lessons taught down there
I want this child to learn.
 
"I've looked this world over,
In my search for teachers true.
In the crowds that throng life's land,
I have selected you.
 
"Now will you give her all your love
Not think the labour vain,
Nor hate me when I come to call
To take her back again?"
 
It seems to me I heard them say,
"Dear Lord, thy will be done.
For all the joys a child shall bring,
The risk of grief we'll run.
 
"We'll shelter her with tenderness,
We'll love her while we may,
And for the happiness we've known
Forever grateful stay.
 
"And should the angels call for him
Much sooner than we've planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes
And try to understand."

"Let the little children come to me and do not forbid them;
for such is the Kingdom of God." Mark 10:14
 

This week I’ve lacked in posting due to a significant and tragic event that has forever changed my life.  Last Saturday, February 4th, I was driving my brother and cousin home from grocery shopping.  It was around 4:15pm, so the sun was timidly starting to fade to gold and the skylight was dropping.  The entire world seemed to be slowly progressing into nighttime.

We were driving on a rural road when I could see in my rearview as police were rushing up the street, their sirens blazing, followed by several firetrucks and ambulances.  Hastily, I pulled out of the way and let them pass, but the road was empty of almost all people, and they were heading in the same direction.  I silently vowed that no matter my curiosity, I wouldn’t follow them.  

I started out directly behind the last police officer, and gained speed behind them.  We rushed past homes and through the streets.  We began to approach the cutoff that leads to my ward boundaries and my home.  I planned on turning into my street and watching the police drive on, but to my surprise, they took the same direction toward my home.  

Immediately I felt prompted to follow—any previous thoughts against it were forgotten.  I hastily turned onto my street and passed my home, following the cops and ambulances as we climbed higher and higher into my ward boundaries.  Fear and heartache began to build up—this is my ward.  These people are my stronghold. We really are all a family, each of us neighbors.  The worry that thronged within me seemed to only get stronger and harder and more painful to bear.

I could see from a distance now where the accident was.  There were very few cars lined up, but instead police officers, two firetrucks, and two ambulances.  It didn’t seem to be a car accident, which only made me more nervous as I watched from a distance the mere frantic group of people, the scads of firemen and policemen running about.  I took a more remote, back road over to the opposite side of the accident and parked, frantically running out to find many members of my ward huddled in the driveway of a more recent family who I didn’t yet know well.  Only five to ten feet from the close group of people laid a little baby girl, her beautiful white-blond hair strewn around her white face, and blood dripping from her small mouth.  

There were two moments for me then.  Two very distinctive “moments” that I will never forget.  For the first moment, I saw my baby sister, Isabel.  My sweet, two-year-old sister Isabel lying on the ground.  Baby Isabel, the one who dances for our family, and laughs her head off, and kisses us when we’re crying, and sings to us every night.  My innocent, beautiful baby sister was lying on the ground, covered in blood, as ambulances and firemen and police officers swarmed her, trying hard to keep her little heart beating.  

And then I saw an angel.  I saw a beautiful, innocent angel sleeping on the ground.  Her white hair was in ringlets, and her white cheeks were flushed pink.  She was beautiful, and she seemed to glow with health and bloom.  She was too good for this life, I thought.  That moment was comforting, and gentle, and kept me at peace.  But this angel wasn’t there yet—she was just asleep.  And true as it was, she was unconscious.  A helicopter landed nearly twenty yards from me and I watched as her helpless little body was lifted and sailed away.  

The image became implanted into my brain.  All night, I cried for her and for her family, who reminded me so much of my own.  They were beautiful and selfless and happy, and now their sweet baby girl was in the hospital, dying.  The following day, Sunday, was the humbling day for me.

I woke up with no drive to attend church.  I had no feelings inside of me that said, “Ah, church, yes.”  Having 8:00am church usually restricts that on a weekly basis anyway, but it was different on February 5, 2012.  I slept in—I didn’t attend my first two hours, but nearing the third, I began to feel the emotional upheaval subside and I heard a voice tell me to go to church.  You cannot disregard those voices.

I went to Young Women’s.  The moment I walked in, I was stopped by the mother of one of my friends, who asked me about the event that went on the night before.  With my heart aching, I told her.  I explained everything, and the spiritual outpour fell from me like a heavy weight.  I could no longer carry this burden.  Following my conversation with her, I went to my classroom to find my next-door neighbor, who is like a second mother to me, teaching a lesson on Happiness and Joy.  Despite the upheaval and terror that struck us all—and each person cried throughout the lesson for the pain of possibly losing little baby Elle—we were blessed.  We felt at peace.  My previous Mia Maid leader leaned into me and said, handing me tissues and holding my hand tightly, “Your smile has always lit up my classroom.  Each time I taught, I’d look at you, for the privilege of feeling so much better and having the confidence to keep teaching, and to teach by the Spirit.”

…..I’ll conclude my story in the second part.  I just want to give people incentive to read both instead of admiring a post from a distance and deciding it’s too long.  

These words are purely mine… but all those there who struggle with the concept, feeling, or understanding of love, allow me to at least help you to the best of my ability.

LOVE is not LUST. They are similar in feeling and emotion, but different between what is bad and what is good.  LOVE: 

L is For:

Loyalty…hmm, whenever people say “loyalty”, I personally always just say, “Who cares?” because loyalty is one of those random words that you throw into a description box when somebody asks you what ‘qualities’ you like.  But if you think about it… isn’t it a meaningful quality? Having someone who is loyal to you—having someone who respects you, who admires you, who knows you well?  It doesn’t sound meaningful, but think of this: imagine your best friend with all of those qualities.  Picture situations where loyalty would come into play.  Then, picture your friend doing the opposite of that—having a friend or companion who doesn’t support you, who doesn’t respect you and your home, and who doesn’t know you or make any effort to know you.  Do you really want that in your daily life?  The best way to find loyalty is to BE LOYAL.

Life… when I say this, I mean that you should find someone who has a purpose to life.  Life is AMAZING, and I’m not just saying that as a preppy Mormon girl, I’m saying this as someone who loves and enjoys their life.  Why? Because I have a purpose, or multiple purposes, to it—I’m looking for someone to love rightly, I want to go to school and get an education, I’d love to be married and someday raise a family.  These goals that I have are my purposes.  If you don’t have them now, you don’t need to be concerned.  I know there’s more things to add to my list, I just haven’t found them yet.  Someday I will.  But listen to this: when you look for someone to love, look for someone in your life.  Someone that has life.  Someone that cares about life and doesn’t abuse life by doing things like smoking, drinking, drugs, pornography, the works…you have INCREDIBLE potential in life (this is for boys and girls), why not find someone that looks to thrive off of that potential as well?

Learning… you have to be patient with your love.  It will come, but only if you learn as you go.  Trial is GOING TO HAPPEN. Trial is going to come at you like a train.  The more you have, the stronger your Spirit must grow, and that’s what God has told us.  You’re going to make mistakes—I’ve made plenty already—but the point of all this is to learn from them.  Here’s what you should do: go write a list about everything you have dealt with before.  Write down all of the troubles that you’ve endured and mistakes that you’ve made, and write down the consequences.  (i.e. I know someone who was driving with his friends and got caught up drinking and crashed into a nearby accident, killing a police officer.  He must now endure the pain of ending someone’s life and many other consequences, like a job, jail, family, or potential education).  You should look at this list as a reminder of all the things you’ve learned.

L IS FOR LOYALTY, L IS FOR LIFE, AND L IS FOR LEARNING.

Loyalty: make a list of qualities that you desire in a future spouse.  Keep that always, and as you date and meet people, watch as the list grows and changes.

Life: the greatest suggestion I have for you is to discover yourself—pray, search your Scriptures, and think of Christ…but don’t just think of Him, act like Him.  I dare you, for just one week, to go through each day, every moment thinking, “What would I do if the Lord were with me right now?” I did it this past week, and I can truly say that although it was EXTREMELY hard, by the end of the week I felt a sense of happiness and satisfaction with myself for pulling through, and I felt extremely spiritually blessed. 

Learning: make the list that I told you about, and look and see what you’ve done.  Imagine what you could have done differently, and then say a prayer of gratitude.  There are no undoable things, everything you’ve done can be forgiven of if you pray and ask the Lord for forgiveness.  Learn from what you’ve done in life.

I never realized how many miracles are in my daily life.  I had never really given  it a thought, to be honest—but today, I realized many important things. Firstly, let me introduce you to Connor, my absolute best friend in the entire world.  Connor and I met ‘formally’ on trek last summer, despite being in the same ward for almost two years and saying four or five words to each other.  After trek, we became inseparable.  When school started back up, my mom said, “Don’t get too caught up with him, because school will throw you back into your old friends.”

But it wasn’t like that.  Connor and I are spiritually connected—we are undoubtedly tied together by the choices we make and the Spirit we’ve discovered together.  When school started back up, we only grew closer.  Yes, a lot closer.  Our friends from two different sides merged together because of us, and truthfully great things have started to happen.

Connor is my Priesthood guide.  I have a lovely father, and he’s a wonderful Priesthood holder and very worthy, but Connor and I have come together in no way I ever thought possible. He always confirms to me the truth of things—my testimony does not rely on him, but he has definitely helped in the strengthening of it.  And today, a miracle happened…

Connor has an indescribable relationship with his father.  They are both craftsman, very religious, and extremely faithful.  Connor never cries unless he’s bearing his testimony, in which he always mentions his dad.  Anyway, to the point, Connor’s father is about three hours away at their cabin down South, helping to repair damage and fix things due to the snow downpour.  Him and two or three other men went down ten days ago to work on the cabin—no reception, no service.  He calmly explained to his wife that he would be home in six days, but if it took seven or eight, there was no need to worry.  Snow storms were expected to be extremely heavy and they were likely to be trapped with no service.

So she waited patiently.  Her husband did not show up on day six, and as she is the mother of five boys and one girl, panic began to set in.  Day seven, nothing.  No phone call, no message.  She decided to put her trust in her husband and wait.  On the eighth day, there was no recognition of his returning home.  She began to grow extremely panicked as the ninth day, yesterday, rolled around and she couldn’t get ahold of her husband.  Today, around five o’ clock, she called her brothers and her oldest son, Connor, to go down and find them.  They were given a half-hour to pack, and she wandered frantically, trying to hide it from her younger children.  Only Connor knew.

Within ten minutes, Connor was at my doorstep.  I was surprised as he wandered in, took off his shoes and said, “We need to talk.  I’m leaving.”  It was so abrupt, and so… terrifying.  My heart fluttered in disbelief as I guided him down the stairs and into our home theatre room, sitting beside him on a recliner.  

Immediately, his eyes welled with tears.  He couldn’t look at me, but he grabbed my hand and held it tightly.  The moment his skin touched mine, it was like instant Spiritual contact.  I felt this heavy, emotional damage put onto my shoulders.  Connor said very quietly, holding back tears, “My dad isn’t responding…my mom is beside herself. She’s been praying, and she has now lost all comfort and believes that he may be dead.”

My heart stopped, but for some reason, I didn’t.  My mouth opened right then and words poured out like liquid, flowing all over.  I told him, “Connor, look at me.”  I took his face in my hands and looked him squarely in his wide dark tear stricken eyes and said, “Do not mistaken the shock and worry you feel from not knowing where your father is, for the Lord’s message of discomfort.  You may think that the Lord is telling you that your father is in a wrong state, but unless you truly, truly know that, don’t think it for a second.  The Lord is the Comforter, but only if you choose to overlook your discomfort and accept Him.”  

I then asked if he’d like to say a prayer.  It took him a moment to decide, but when he did, both of his hands grasped mine and we bowed our heads while I said a gentle, quiet prayer.  And you know… the Lord works in mysterious ways.  Less than ten minutes later, Connor’s father called for the first time in days to announce that the storm had passed and they were now coming home, right as Connor was about to leave.  

There are simple miracles everywhere.  I think recording them will be healthy.  We’ll just have to wait and see…