"New Parents on a Plane"

Photo by Sourav Mishra from Pexels

"On our first flight with our first daughter, we had been told repeatedly how important it was for us to feed her while taking off so her ears would pop and she would be comfortable. Eager to follow all advice, we were preparing for takeoff. Unfortunately, she was completely asleep. So asleep that we couldn’t arouse her by blowing on her, speaking to her, changing her position, tickling her feet etc. Nothing would work. We had the genius idea to pull down her pants and hold her up to the AC vent. After a few minutes, she woke up. We were able to feed her, and she was happy for the remainder of the flight. What I loved most about this experience was how we couldn’t stop laughing at our ridiculous efforts to wake our daughter. As a new parent, there seems to be a never-ending list of expectations to meet. We probably could have skipped this one and avoided holding her, pant-less, at the vent. It's essential to laugh along the way."

My Son's First Birthday - Lisa

“I was coming up on the first birthday for my son who had passed away at 3.5 weeks old. It was a really raw and emotional time for me and I knew it would be a really hard day, but I wanted to do something to celebrate Aiden's life that was meaningful.  My mom inspired me by setting up a service project for our whole family to participate in - to put together "baby kits" for an organization that provided needed supplies for refugees. Since I was the only one of my siblings who lived away, it would be hard for me to participate. So, I set up my own service project for my ward: donating needed supplies to a domestic violence shelter here in our town, and then handing out cupcakes to those who donated, in honor of Aiden's birthday. 

The day came, and it was actually a really great day that was full of tender mercies. Many friends and family reached out to express their love and support, I was able to get a lot of supplies for my own service project and the people at the domestic violence shelter were so surprised and happy with our many donations, and to top it all off, my husband's sister had organized service projects for his entire family to do in honor of Aiden and they surprised us with a beautifully put together video showing of all of them participating in their chosen service and holding "Happy Birthday Aiden" signs. 

The last tender mercy of the day was that I was able to attend the temple with my husband, because our good friends offered to babysit our 3 year old, but most importantly, a young woman in our ward had previously invited us to attend as she received her endowment - which was a huge blessing because the temple was only open for scheduled live ordinances at the time because of the Covid-19 pandemic. This young woman had no idea how much that meant to us on that specific day. As we were in the temple, I felt very strongly that Aiden wanted us to celebrate him by doing service for others, and that was why my mom, myself and my sister in law all felt so inspired to set up service projects to honor him. I felt Heavenly Father's love very strongly for me, my husband and both of our sons, and I felt that both He and Aiden were pleased with us that we were sealed in the temple and were striving to keep our covenants. Losing a child is not something that I would wish on anyone, but I absolutely believe there are tender mercies in trials, and that they can make us better if we let them.”

The Faith of a Child's Prayer

Image from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints media library

 

"A few years ago I experienced a series of health problems involving my heart and my endocrine system, and not long after, I was diagnosed with colon cancer. I felt like my life was hijacked by frequent encounters with doctors, nurses, technicians, and hospital settings. For me, it was unsettling, upsetting, and undignified. I hated feeling exposed and prodded. I often felt judged by indifferent strangers. My faith remained strong, and yet I found myself anxious and afraid far too much of the time. Feelings of self-pity and resentment crept into my thoughts and I found it difficult to overcome them. At one point in the middle of all this, I had a conversation with one of my daughters about her youngest child preparing to start kindergarten. He was frightened about upcoming immunizations. The night before his appointment with the pediatrician she knelt with him in prayer. He prayed that he would be okay when he went to the doctor, and that Heavenly Father would help him to be a “brave boy.” The next morning at the appointment he was calm, and as the nurse administered the shots he looked ahead and did not complain or cry out. He later told his mom that he knew that Heavenly Father loved him and had heard his prayer, and had helped him to be brave. I was touched by this account of my grandchild’s faith and trust in a loving and compassionate Father in Heaven. 

I thought about his faith often, and inspired by it, I started adding a new petition to my own daily prayers. Although I am a wife, mother, and grandmother, I felt impressed to ask the Lord to help me to be a “brave boy” too. I even used that exact phrase in my prayers! My emotional state had been that of a young and frightened child and I wanted to be brave. The same loving Heavenly Father who heard my grandson’s prayer heard my prayers. Although I still found these situations distressing, I was more aware of the help and comfort that I was receiving from God. I was able to face painful and difficult procedures and treatments with greater faith and trust in Him. I experienced less frustration towards my own body and towards health care providers. Through God’s help and mercy, I was able to be brave. My physical heart and body gradually healed. Even more significantly, my spiritual heart was healed as well."

A Wake up Call

Photo from churchofjesuschrist.org

"When I found out I was pregnant with my third child, it was a surprise and had come sooner than we had planned. We were a bit nervous about having three children under three, but decided to embrace the announcement with a full heart. 

When my son was born at the beginning of the 2020 pandemic, it was an overwhelming time. My normal coping mechanisms were all but impossible. I was quarantining and unable to see people. I had an injured hip and was unable to run. I loved to serve and felt lost with no clear way to minister to others and no calling. I was lost. It took me weeks to realize that my stress was making my anxiety levels rise. One day, I was so frustrated with my daughter, I threw a shoe. Luckily the shoe didn’t hit her, but it was a wakeup call for me. The rage I was feeling in my brain had never been there after my other kids, but it was present far too often now. I realized I needed to make changes in my life immediately to stop the spiral before it felt too hard to change. 

Once I recognized my need for help, I reached out to family and made goals to get in some self-care. With the supportive help of a loving husband, and the kindness of so many others, I have learned how to better recognize what I need to do to invite the Spirit into my life more. I have felt strength and support. My weak moments are less, and my ability to stay in control has increased. I feel grateful for this experience that has given me much greater empathy for others."

Praying in a Haunted House - Lindy

Photo courtesy of author

Over the years I have gotten into the habit of saying little prayers throughout the day. This helps when I am feeling scared, anxious, worried, etc. I guess it’s my way of always having a prayer in my heart. One day while vacationing with my daughter and her best friend in London, we unexpectedly found ourselves in a haunted house. Yep, one of those classic Halloween date night versions complete with a bloodied man running a chainsaw. As we were walking through this “haunted” experience, single file with our hands on each other’s shoulders, just like they told us to do because it was dark and narrow, I found myself praying for safety. Praying that nothing bad would happen to us. Then it hit me. I am in a stupid haunted house! Was Heavenly Father really going to help me here? Did I actually need His help anyhow? I am the fool that didn’t read the description of the venue properly. The absurdity of me praying and asking for peace and comfort as I walked through a haunted house, one that, not only did I choose to go to, but had paid money to enter, hit me like a brick. It was hilarious! That thought made me laugh out loud and kept me chuckling the rest of the time even as chainsaws roared and spectacles jumped out in front of me. It was hilarious! Here I was in London, in June and yet, somehow, we had managed to find a hidden haunted house. What the heck?! So maybe my “always have a prayer in your heart” had found one time where it just wasn’t necessary...or maybe just another time where that little prayer was answered so fast and so completely that I never even realized it. Oh, and if you ever visit London, take note that the London Bridge Experience starts off as a dramatization of what it was like living on the London Bridge, but then turns into a full-fledged haunted house experience.

Sunflowers - Mignon

             Picture courtesy of Brett Sayles · Boise, ID, USA

 As a child, one of the first flowers I remember was sunflowers. They were all around where I grew up. I would see one growing alone across the street in a vacant lot, or I'd see whole fields of them from the backseat of the car. They were everywhere in my small world. I probably didn't pay much attention, but they were always there.  I remember them as the last flower to give up when winter came, and the first to begin to grow in the spring. A teacher in a Relief Society lesson once suggested that every woman should have a symbol for her that would be a guide and focus in her life. It must have been in the Fall when sunflowers were blooming because as I looked at some growing in my yard, they were so familiar and comforting, my light bulb turned on. There is my symbol.  It is a bright, happy flower that blooms and thrives wherever it finds itself. The most amazing thing about sunflowers is that as the day goes on, they follow the sun. After my husband died and my years alone went by, my gratitude for that symbol became more focused. My plan for my life is to follow the SON, My Savior Jesus Christ. Family and friends have picked up on my love of Sunflowers. My home has Sunflowers everywhere. My thoughts always turn to my Savior Jesus Christ when I see them around me."

"If you are helpless, He is not"

photo from https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/

After each of my sixteen-year-old son’s pseudo seizures his mind struggled. He became moody and it could take days before he was back to his usual fun loving, responsible self. A psychiatrist placed him on medication because of the mood swings, hoping that the seizures would improve. They did not.

It had been a long trial as weeks turned into months. It was difficult to watch him struggle; to try everything the medical community had available to us and still watch him suffer. He had been to the hospital so many times that we had taken to calling the ambulance the “sparkle bus.” I could sit over him as a seizure lasted minute after minute and watch him as his body shook but he was trapped inside and couldn’t speak or escape. More disturbing than watching him trapped in seizures were the moods that came afterwards. He was brooding and angry. Self-loathing was a prominent theme in his moods. I could not help but think the adversary was tap dancing all over my family, with the bulk of the kicking happening to my son.

Months before his health adventures began, I was standing in my kitchen, looking out over my family in the great room. They were laughing as we usually did. We had always had a happy home that was, by and large, free from anger, raised voices, or deep troubles. My husband and I had fashioned such an atmosphere and relationship with our children purposefully. In that particular moment the sure knowledge that all waters are not calm came to me as an unmistakable prompting from the Holy Ghost. I knew something was going to happen and I knew the moment of time I was watching should be treasured up. So, I treasured it. I looked carefully at my loved ones, memorized the melodic sound of their laughter, and learned by heart the peace their happiness brought to my soul. I used that memory to calm myself many times through my son’s health trials. Some days our family was barely moving mechanically through our routines. Everyone hurt for my son. He was dearly loved by many and we felt that love in abundance, but he still suffered in body and mind.

A particularly bad mood swing hit him after a difficult seizure. He left home without warning. Our ward family was at our house within hours and organized efforts to find him were deployed. It was as though they had brought Heavenly Father’s love right to our hearts. Luckily, my son was found unharmed two cities over, having walked for hours in a daze. He was returned home without much trouble.

The next time he disappeared after recovering from a seizure he left a suicide note. My heart went cold as I read it. I did not call the ward. Beyond the bishop and relief society president, I only called the police. After finishing the phone calls, I sat, staring blankly, and realized I had hit an end of what I could do. There was no difference I could make for my son. I had been learning about true faith through my personal scripture and spiritual study. Elder Boyd K. Packer said to parents, “If you are helpless, He is not. If you are lost, He is not. If you don’t know what to do next, He knows. It would take a miracle, you say? Well, if it takes a miracle, why not.” (Improvement Era, Dec. 1970, p. 107.)

With great faith I told Heavenly Father that I knew this boy was also His son, that he cared about His son, and most importantly that He knew where this son of his was. I told him I knew there were numberless concourses of angels at His command and asked that they could help my son. I thanked Him for all the good years I had had with my son, for all the joy my son had brought to others, and for the many abundant blessings we had seen pouring into our lives as our family endured these trials. I asked Him to save my son but acknowledged that if that was not His will, that I would know where my son was and would be glad that his suffering would be over. I thanked Him for the peace His Plan of Salvation brought into our lives and would bring if my son’s suicide attempt was successful. I knew I would see my son again because we had gained a hope and promise of an eternal family when my husband and I chose to be married and sealed in the temple.

Having prayed with perfect faith, I found that the worry was gone. I truly believed that my Heavenly Father loved, me, my son, my family. I knew He was perfectly aware of what was going on in our house. I knew that He was not stumped even though I was. He was not pacing about Heaven wondering where that boy went, wringing His hands in distress. He knew where my son was. I knew that He knew and my soul, for the first time in months, was restful.

As the night wore on, with police checking in often and reporting their progress in the searching, I comforted my family with a sincerely cheerful countenance. My mother found me in my room and asked why I was not crying or upset like everyone else. I told her about my faithful prayer. I explained that Heavenly Father knew where my boy was, that Heavenly Father loved my boy, that even if I did not understand, these trials were somehow for our good. I told her that I could not worry because worry was not faith and I needed then to operate on faith because I had nothing left but to stand on the promises of God.

Luckily my son was found by police, bloody and wounded but very much alive. It was a while before we discovered the medication was contributing to the pseudo seizures and wild moods. It was weeks before he was himself again, seizure and mood swing free. But that time, the time sliding down from the peak of the trial, moved quickly. I truly feel like the difference was my living from a place of faith. I began to realize that in all my trials I could acknowledge who Heavenly Father was to me, who I was to Him, and I could rest knowing that He was never stumped as I was. I knew the difference between a hand wringing, begging, pleading prayer, and a faithful prayer. I understood how the peace He was bringing to me was not something I could reach out and take, but rather it was a way to rest my heart in trust that no matter what was happening in life He was there and it would work out right in the end so long as I stayed close to Him. Instead of trying to save the world on my own, I worked with the confidence that when I was doing His will, He was working beside me.

Now my son is doing well, and I often pause at the kitchen counter to watch my family laugh. I still treasure it up every single time because I know that although all waters aren’t calm, my Heavenly Father knows how to navigate the tempests.