The Light We Don't See and the Light we Do

 Many of you may already know this, but I am a military brat; my father was in the Air Force.  I moved a lot as a child; we usually didn't stay in any one place for more than about two years. I was blessed to live in California, Utah, Ohio, Israel, Idaho, and then Alaska where I attended high school. I have learned many things from interacting with diverse people and cultures.

One thing I love and miss about Alaska is the Northern Lights. There is something so awe-inspiring about them; it makes me think about all the things I cannot see with my mortal eyes.  I found this picture on the internet, but it reminds me of what they looked like, just with my eyes, no camera in hand, when I saw them several times living up there. (This is where I found the photo How to photograph the northern lights - Lonely Planet)

When I married my husband, we decided to settle in Utah instead of Alaska.  As much as I love many things about Alaska, the long winters are very hard, and I wasn't sure that's where I always wanted to be. We talked about both possibilities, but in the end, we decided to live in the lower 48. I figured I wouldn't really get the opportunity to see the Northern Lights again, unless we took a winter trip up there, which is unlikely. Usually if we travel to Alaska, we go in the summertime.

Enter some stellar geomagnetic storms in the past few years. In May 2024, I saw in my news feed that the chances that Northern Lights might be viewable as far south as Utah, and so I stayed up late reading, and checking on the sky to the north every 20 minutes or so, realizing that if you miss it, you miss it, and knowing that sometimes the best viewing really only lasts for minutes, rather than hours. At nearly 1 AM, they came out. I woke up my husband and children and brought them out to show them, and we were all amazed. It was a really wonderful experience that I will never forget, running outside in our pajamas with our cameras and phones and marveling at how beautiful it was, sharing this beauty that I loved so much with my family. I could barely tell they were there with my eye, just a little bit of a faint glow on the north, almost like the clouds were backlit a little bit; but I knew what I was looking for, and I knew where to look. Once I pulled out my phone to try and take pictures, it was able to take in more light and I could see far more color and light through the lens than I could with just my eye. I pointed them out, and everyone was able to see the amazing beauty that I have missed seeing for the past 25 years or so. This was taken in the middle of the night in May of 2024. The colors are much more spread out, and the ribbons of light are far less defined this far south, but it is incredible nonetheless.

A few weeks ago, I got lucky (or maybe blessed) when a friend of mine posted a picture she had just taken of the Northern Lights on her Facebook feed. I happened to be on Facebook, it happened to show up in my feed within minutes of her posting it, and I dropped everything I was doing and ran to my front porch, finding them again by camera. This time I really couldn't see them well with my eye, but my phone found them again.  I texted a few groups I was part of, telling friends and family to go outside and look to the North through their camera lenses, because this time it wasn't the middle of the night, and they were pretty hard to spot with just the naked eye, but I wanted to give more people the chance to see and experience this AWESOME sight. 

This one was less glorious than in 2024, but I was so thrilled to be able to share it with more people I love, and it was still beautiful to see the Northern Lights again. Funner still was seeing the pictures that several of my friends and family sent in after I had messaged them about going to look for the lights.

Why am I even sharing this at all? Since I was a teenager, I have felt closer to God when I see the Northern Lights. Ribbons of light with bright spots that flowed and moved appeared to me like Heavenly corridors with beings that we caught a glimpse of, as if Heaven accidentally drew too close to Earth and we couldn't help but detect it.

Jesus Christ called himself the "light and the life of the world" and light is often used as a metaphor for truth and goodness, besides being a metaphor for Christ himself. When he came to Earth, one glorious sign of his birth was a new bright star in the sky, once again tying the idea of light with Jesus. So the Northern Lights always feel like a slice of Heaven to me.

Experiencing light feels so good, we want to have those experiences over and over again. We want to share them with those we care about because they're impactful and awesome. When I look back at the times I've seen the Northern Lights, the light and the way it felt sometimes almost seems surreal, but the experience was real and beautiful. This feels like my experiences with Jesus' light as well. There have been some tremendously impactful experiences in my life, where I have felt His love, His power, His grace, and His help, and where ideas and inspiration hit me, and it didn't feel like it came from me at all; it came from Him. I am so grateful for those experiences, and I want to give others the chance to experience that light so they can feel it too.

Because I knew where to look, I was able to share the Northern Lights with others. Sometimes, finding light or finding answers is all a matter of knowing where to look.  This concept can apply to spiritual answers, but it can also be applied to many other situations. It hit home particularly hard on the night I woke my family to show them the Northern Lights in May 2024. I remember my oldest son telling me he was glad I knew where to look, and that I had stayed up watching for the Northern Lights, because this was something he had always wanted to see and experience, but he never would have seen it if I hadn't pointed it out, and if I hadn't stayed up to watch for them. At this time of year with Christmas approaching, I am reminded that there were some wise men from the East who knew what they were looking for. "we have seen his star in the east and are come to worship him. When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy." (Matthew 2:2, 10) They had been watching for signs of the Messiah's birth, and once the signs appeared, they felt joy and began a long journey so that they could have the opportunity to meet Him. I don't know how they knew what to look for, whether they had prophets in their country, or scriptures that had been passed down for generations, but somehow they knew where to look and what they were looking for, and it made all the difference for them. 

I was also deeply impressed by the idea that there is so much more going on than I can see, and that with the right lenses, there was FAR more going on than I could comprehend with my body alone. My eyes could barely detect the Northern Lights in both October 2025 and May 2024. I'm too far away (unlike when I lived in Alaska and had a much more up-close view). When Gideon passed away, I was very overwhelmed with sadness, but also very overwhelmed by the "why?" Scott and I love our family, we try so hard to be good parents and losing him felt so unfair. Scott's faith inspired mine during that time, even though we both struggled through the loss. Even as we cried together, he said to me "I believe that if I could understand Gideon's part in God's plan for us, I would shout for joy." Neither of us is there yet; we're not ready to shout for joy over that loss. It still hurts immensely, especially at the holidays. But we're closer. And I also believe that God knows what he is doing, and that I will be able to thank Him one day for the experiences He gave me, and what they did to help our family learn and grow. Scott's health struggles have led us to feel similarly. It has been really hard, and I can see that these experiences have helped us to grow, and I'm almost thankful for them, but maybe not quite yet. Like the Northern Lights, there's a glimpse of that gratitude there as I begin to see the influence these experiences have had on my life, but I can't see very much with my mortal lenses, it's barely there on the horizon. I believe there is far more going on than I can understand. If I had a "camera lens" to capture more of what I can't see, I'd discern more of the magnificence God is setting in motion in my life. I absolutely believe that God is doing amazing things that I can't fully understand or recognize because I only have mortal eyes to see with. As I look with spiritual eyes and try to comprehend more, I can see glimpses of amazing things, but I am sure there is even more going on that I still can't see.

So...I guess this is my way of celebrating the birth of Christ by talking about celebrating the light. I want to acknowledge the light I do see and that light I don't, knowing that it is there and that I need to keep looking in the right places at the right times with the right lenses to help me see more of God's hand in my life.

"For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder; and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace." (Isaiah 9:6) Merry Christmas friends and family!! 

Ah perspective

Guys, life continues to be hard. Scott has a lot of unexplained pain. I ended up in the ER in June with diverticulitis (after Scott was laid off, it was terrible timing.) We have had many challenges over the past months. And we have experienced many miracles. My perspective is deepening, and my ability to trust in God's plan for me grows, even as I still wonder how this is all supposed to turn out.

For the past 9 months, I have tried to take one step into the darkness at a time as I try to find whatever path I am supposed to be on. I feel like the Lord is testing my ability to trust Him because I keep getting one piece of the puzzle at a time, and I don't know what the final product is supposed to look like yet.

Impression number 1 came in January: Let go of your job at the end of this school year. This is not what you're supposed to do next year.

This was really hard for me. I love my coworkers (I still love them, they're just not my coworkers anymore.) I love teaching music. I love working with children of all ages. I loved this school community and the children I had worked with for the last 3 years. And I had just moved my two youngest girls to that elementary school so we could all be together (which is not our boundary school), so pulling myself from the school meant I probably needed to return them to our boundary school or change schools. I began to explore options for what I should do.  My impression really only told me what I should NOT do, but gave no further information, so I began exploring options. I auditioned at Weber State University in their music department in February, thinking I might try the route of becoming a music educator. I was offered a vocal scholarship (in April, it took a while for them to make their decisions). I considered this very strongly. In the end, after meeting with advisors and planning my route, I walked away from Weber State with another impression.

2. Going to Weber State and pursuing music education was not it. I felt almost sick to my stomach as I left. Even with the excitement of being offered a scholarship, knowing it would take several years to finish school just felt like far too long a timeline. And it felt inflexible. If I pursue music education, I'm locked into additional performances and rehearsals not only through college but through my career. Back to the drawing board.

3. Go on the field trip. I felt like I should go, so I went on a field trip with my kindergartner. I was a last-minute add-on chaperone. While we were driving down the road on her school bus, I saw a sign that showed a new charter school was opening up in our area. I had seen the sign many times before, but always as the driver in my car. For some reason, seeing it as a passenger hit different. The impression hit me HARD: apply there. And if I were going to apply, then I should also apply to have my kids attend there. I started looking into their open positions and saw that the music teacher position required a teaching license. I realized that it might be in my best interest to get my teaching license. My children got into the charter school.  I did not even get called for an interview (I had applied even without my teaching license.)

4. I started looking at other music teaching positions, many of which required licensure. I started looking into online programs that would help me get my teaching license, and wondered if, rather than Weber State University, I should attend Western Governors' University online and obtain my teaching license as fast as I possibly could, ideally within a year.  End the end, this is what felt right. I would have liked to have started May 1st, but there were some transcript delays, and my start date had to be pushed back by a month. For a while, I considered math education. That's what I initially applied to WGU under. I considered music education. I considered elementary education. That is the one that felt right.

5. Scott lost his job. Again. This is the second time in 2 years that he has been laid off.  I had already committed to starting school, and despite our now incomeless status, I proceeded with the plan. Thankfully, most of my tuition was covered by grants, so we only had to pay a few hundred dollars for this semester and I was able to jump straight in at the beginning of summer. With my stress levels so high and my determination peaked, it was wonderful to be able to jump in and work on school over the summer. It gave me something I could control Weber State would NOT have worked out that way. As Scott searched for job offers, we considered a move to Idaho. We traveled up there and looked around. This one was tricky. I felt impressed that I needed to trust in Scott's decision. This time, it was not my choice to make. I know I could have influenced Scott a lot, that's how marriage works. But I felt like I needed to let him be the driver, and so I tried hard to be as open as I could to all the possibilities and to let him make the choice.  He ended up taking a remote position that allowed us to stay in our current home. 

6. I feel really great about pursuing a degree in Elementary Education. I am loving my classes, loving the chance to do observations, and loving how they are helping me to be a better teacher AND mother. I still do not know what the next year will bring. I haven't stepped that far into the darkness yet. But this path feels like the right one, so I keep taking steps on the path.

One little story about perspective. I am currently taking a math class for elementary educators, and we have learned a lot about encouraging students to explain their thinking. I realize as a parent, that it is irritating as heck to have your child have to explain why they arrived at the answer when they added 11+ 13 and got the answer 24. Even for me, it's a little tricky to explain "It says to add, so I added it." Hear me out as an (almost) educator, though. When kids explain what happened in their brains, it lets teachers figure out if they are using the correct strategies or if they are doing something that could be improved.  My 1st grader brought home a little homework packet (her teacher gives just one packet for the week, and it is optional, but I want to see how she is doing and help her, so we try to do her homework each week.) This is the first time she has done subtraction on her homework.  She did great with the problem 9-6= ____ and she did just fine with 8-2=____   But when she got to _____=10-7 and ______ = 12-6 she put the answer 0 in both blanks. Without my current background, I would have immediately told her that she got the wrong answer and to try again.  With my current information, I asked her to explain how she came up with that answer.  Guys...since the equals sign was on the left side of the problem, she did them backwards. She read it right to left. She hasn't seen it done this way before, and did not understand that the numbers still have to go left to right. So she thought "7-10 takes them all away which is 0," and "6-12 takes them all away which is 0". When I told her we needed to try those two problems again, she ended up crying and feeling so bad that she hadn't done them correctly. Scott was able to distract her for a few minutes to give her a chance to calm down, and then help her understand that the equals sign can go on either side of the equation, but we always read the numbers from left to right. I keep thinking about this little math situation and perspective and experience. 

Sometimes, like my daughter, we take what we can see, apply whatever knowledge we have, and do our best thinking. We get an answer that makes complete sense to us. But if you look at it in a different way, it's wrong. We might be looking at it right to left instead of left to right. And sometimes we are so frustrated and upset when we realize we did it wrong, especially when we were so sure that we were correct, that we get all hung up on the mistakes and struggle to do anything besides feel bad. A simple correction in perspective can usually help open our minds up to understanding things when we weren't quite seeing the picture the right way. Someone lovingly giving us a chance to calm down, rethink, and try again can be such a lifesaver.  

The turmoil in the world right now is overwhelming and chaotic, and so many people are sure that the way they see things is "the right way". There are a whole lot of situations where we could all use a simple shift in perspective to help us understand more people. And it's OK to be wrong and adjust our thinking. Revising and rewriting are part of life that we don't appreciate enough.  A year ago, I did not think I would be rewriting my story to become an elementary teacher. But now it feels like the right place for me to be. 

Last little quick perspective story. We went hiking with our kids and granddaughter recently. Depending on your perspective, you might have been frustrated or delighted. My 6 year old daughter and my 3 year old granddaughter kept stopping to pick up "beautiful treasures" from the trail. It made the hike incredibly slow, it felt like "tai chi hiking". These are some of the treasures: 

I sometimes don't think to appreciate all the treasures that life has to offer me. Like opportunities to pursue education. A sweet family. Lots of good food. And beautiful rocks, trees, acorns, and walnuts and children with eyes to appreciate them. I hope we can all grow in beautiful perspective and keep taking slow (even tai chi) steps forward on the path.

He knows

I realize it has been a very long time since my last post.  Scott's open heart surgery was by far one of the hardest things the two of us have ever had to go through. Literally the day of his surgery as I was waiting for updates and praying and hoping everything would be OK, my nose started running more and more and more. By the end of the evening, when Scott was out of surgery and recovering in the ICU and in so much pain, I was feeling more and more tired, headachy, and having sinus pain. I knew something was not going well with my body. My brother in law stayed with Scott and I went home. I took a Covid test after coming home to sleep that night, and sure enough, I had Covid. So Scott spent the rest of his recovery in the hospital with other family members by his side. A day or two after I tested positive for Covid, kids started testing positive for strep. We had 2 with strep and me with Covid about the time he needed to come home. I was so stressed. His mother and oldest sister were so vigilant in visiting him and helping him to feel loved and watched over while I was home dealing with the sickness, and I am so grateful for their dedication to helping him, but it was awful to have to stay away the entire time he was at the hospital.  And when he got home, I had to be so careful for a few days because I still was testing postive for Covid, even the day he came home.  We were airing out the house, lysoling bathrooms, changing sheets and blankets, laundering everything...quite the struggle. We managed to keep everyone else healthy, keep him from getting it, and he has been recovering since.  He can now hike and move and lift and do most things like normal, with the exception that his chest is still somewhat tender where the wires are underneath the skin, and his stamina is not quite what it used to be.

Scott's oldest sister is a nurse who is actually normally part of the open-heart surgery team. As such, she has a lot of information and was able to provide a bit of assistance to help set things up, and she gave us some idea of all that was going on behind the scenes. It was interesting to hear about all the things that came together to help Scott have a successful surgery, from the people on the schedule (who she specifically chose so that Scott and I would have amazing nurses and doctors) to the supplies they needed for this specialized surgery. I have been struck a lot with the idea that there are often so many things being orchestrated behind the scenes that we don't know about, can't understand and can't see, but they are there, helping our lives whether we realize it or not.

There are still other aneurysms we have to worry about and keep an eye on in his body, and we don't know yet why this is happening to him. His arteries just have a natural tendency to want to tear or bulge, which is really not a great thing.

Shortly before he went in for surgery, we went to the temple together. There are many different temples, but they all serve the same purpose, to help do God's work.  We make special covenants and promises and learn about our potential in the temple, and we assist in the work of other people who have died.  Those people are still alive in heaven, but have no body, just a spirit.  Those spirits can choose to accept any of the temple work done for them, or not to accept it, choice is something we very strongly believe in.  The temple is also a place where we can go to feel closer to God, to just sit in quiet and peace and pray, meditate, study, or whatever needs to happen.  I had a really beautiful moment as I was in the temple that day. I poured my heart out to God, trying to help him understand how scared I was about Scott's surgery, about our finances if he lost his job or died or had a long term struggle with health, I prayed about how we were going to take care of our children and send our son on a mission with all of the obstacles we were facing. At the end of my prayer, I simply asked for Heavenly Father to help me know that we were in His hands, that he was on our side helping with all these things I had spent so much time talking to Him about.  

Before leaving the temple, I prayed once more, and grabbed a nearby set of scriptures. I felt that whatever scripture my eyes fell on was going to help me through this difficult time, and give me peace and answer to my prayers. I opened to 3 Nephi 13 (and honestly I was instantly skeptical because that is a part of the Book of Mormon where the Savior is visiting the Nephites, and I wondered how that was going to help me with how I was feeling) but my eyes fell to verse 32, which says "For your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things." My soul was pretty much just drenched with comfort, it was exactly what I needed to hear in that moment. He knows. My heart felt it clearly. He knows.

There have been lots of ups and downs. Healing is not a linear journey. Nights were very hard at first, and there still are occasional bad ones, where Scott struggles to sleep because of pain or stress, but mostly things have leveled out for a bit.  I have felt over and over that God knows what we are going through, that He loves us so much and has a hand in so many of the details of our lives that we just don't always see and understand. 

Since I could not be at the hospital as Scott was recovering, we tried to think of some way that he could see us and we could show him love and support while also keeping him and the other hospital patients and staff safe. We came up with the idea to create a few sidewalk chalk messages where we knew Scott could see them, and he came to the window and watched us. He was able to walk over to look at those messages whenever he practiced walking, and we also wrote some notes to thank the amazing caregivers at the hospital. It wasn't as great as being able to see him face to face, but it was what we could do in the moment. You can see him looking down from the window in one of the pictures. The words "You are loved" are written facing the window he could see us from.  My mother had come up to help during the time Scott was recovering, and since I got Covid, she ended up staying with my sister and brought us meals regularly. She met us at the hospital on the day these were taken, and was there with lunch so we could focus on getting the messages written and then get out of the cold. Again, there are so many pieces in the background that we don't always think about, but God knows.

Total Eclipse of the Heart, Pollyanna, and Peace

 Quick shout out to 80's music. I love it so much.  And I love the song Eclipse of the Heart, which has absolutely been present in my brain since an experience I had a few weeks ago.

A few weeks ago as I was praying and crying, I asked Heavenly Father for help. I wasn't even sure what kind of help. Can I handle this? How do I handle this? What do we do? How do I keep going in the face of such a mountainous thing?

The basic answer that I received as I stopped to think and feel was this: if I did not focus on gratitude, the weight of this situation was going to eclipse all the joy and faith and goodness I might find in it. It would still be there, but I wouldn't be able to see it.  However, if I was able to keep gratitude and goodness at the forefront, then they could upstage the frustration and feelings of being overwhelmed. Basically, I get to choose what is at the front of the eclipse. One thing will overshadow the other, and I have control over which thing.  I am seeing the truth of that inspiration, and I am still trying very hard to control the eclipse in my heart.

So...I've been playing Pollyanna again.  (And this reminds me that I haven't watched it in a few years, and it's time to pull it out so I can enlist my children's help in playing "the glad game.") 

Trying to find the bright side in our situation is a challenge, but it has really helped both Scott and I to function as people and parents.  Scott has found that he is grateful for the pain he has been in, because without it many of these problems would have been undetected until they were either an emergency or until they killed him. Pain is miserable and he still has a lot of it and gets tired of it, but at least we have an idea what is going on (though we are still trying to figure out why it is happening.) I have found that I am treasuring the time with my husband and my children, as I have all too frequent reminders that life is precious, that our status may change at any time from being just fine to definitely not OK. I treasure the moments when we're all OK, and I am grateful for the days we do have to spend together.  Scott and I have had to have open conversations about "what if" the worst case scenarios happen, but they have been full of love and goodness, and I am grateful for them.

On the Monday before Thanksgiving, we have a tradition that we put up our old, hand-me-down tree (we got it from my husband's grandparents early in our marriage) and as we put each branch on the tree (yes, you have to put it together branch by branch and it is not pre-lit, but that's OK), we talk about what we are grateful for.  (We add the lights and decor the weekend after Thanksgiving, so it has a few days to be our "thankful tree" before it becomes our Christmas tree. I think that the last year has helped my children to deepen their gratitude as well, because some of the things they thought to be grateful for are way beyond what I would have thought of at their age.

These came in a random order, but I will group them by which person from our family said them. James mentioned being grateful for "sleep, medical technology, priesthood power, and repentance." He was also working on homework while we did this, so he didn't have quite as much to say as some years.  Alydia was grateful for "psychology, Mira (that's my granddaughter), modern revelation, hands, creativity, the opportunity & ability to learn, and genetics" Hyrum said that he was grateful for "tastebuds, health, the Atonement, hugs and snuggles, eggrolls, individuality, humor/jokes, the Holy Ghost, and books."  Miriam appreciated "home, clean water, the plan of happiness, technology in our homes, flushing toilets, light, peace & comfort, increased fairness in the world, life, and songs." Annabeth had to have a little bit of prompting to ask her what she loved in life and what she was glad for.  She mentioned "family, mom & dad, food, games, friends, and birthdays."  I put a few branches in too.  My branches of gratitude were "we're alive, our hand-me-down Christmas tree and its memories, agency, and music."  The kids noticed that Dad hadn't said anything yet, so they asked him to do one, and he said "I'm not dead yet" in the voice from Monty Python and the Holy Grail (if you don't know what I'm talking about, I'm so sorry, and I recommend watching the movie but realize that it's not something that everyone will find as funny as our family does.) Truly something he has learned to appreciate is that he is still here, based on the crazy things his arteries seem to want to do (and I felt gratitude for that as well, which is why I was feeling grateful that we were alive.)

On the subject of my children and gratitude, I also was able to experience an incredible tender mercy a few weeks ago.  James is getting ready to go serve a mission for our church and was recently ordained to be an Elder in the Melchizedek priesthood. (For anyone who has no idea what that is: he already had the Aaronic priesthood, which is sort of a practice priesthood where youth begin to learn how to feel the spirit and serve others through baptism and the sacrament. This newer advancement that can be made once a young man turns 18 and is worthy of the higher responsibility and power.  This is to a higher priesthood that comes with more abilities to bless other people, like blessing someone who is sick or needs comfort, or helping to give someone the gift of the Holy Ghost.  It requires a little more faith and depth of ability to feel and recognize the Holy Ghost as it prompts you to bless others.) Scott was feeling particularly overwhelmed and in need of peace and comfort, so we went to his family's house. James was able to participate with Scott's dad in giving Scott a blessing.  Many moms do not get to watch their sons use the priesthood to bless others the first time, the first blessing they give often happens when they're away at college or away on a mission, but I got to hear James' first blessing, and watch him take that privilege and responsibility so seriously as he prepared for it by reading his scriptures and patriarchal blessing and seeking the spirit to guide him.  One of my favorite things that he promised Scott was that he would be able to see the Lord's hand in his life if he was looking for it. It was a moment I will cherish forever, and the moment wouldn't have happened if our family had not been approaching this difficult situation.

One last thing to share. Of course, seeking peace, Scott and I took a trip to the temple a few weeks ago (and we need to go again because there really is a depth of peace and comfort and a feeling of focus there that is so awesome). We went shortly after we learned that his doctor wanted him to have surgery, but before we had the chance to actually speak to the doctor in person learn more details about it.  We were both a little bit in shock and not sure how to proceed, so we went to where we could feel God's presence a little better.  As we sat and prayed in the celestial room, I plead for help, pleading for our family to be able to make ends meet if Scott had to go months without work, pleading to know that God was watching out for us, even if I wasn't 100% sure how to handle it all.  As we were getting ready to leave the temple, I quickly grabbed a set of scriptures and said one last prayer.  I basically in my mind said "Heavenly Father, please give me something good from here." After my "give me something good" request, I felt like I could open the scriptures to wherever and whatever popped out at me would be my "something good." I opened up to 3 Nephi chapter 13.  My first thought as I looked at the top of the page was "3 Nephi is when Jesus came to visit the people in the land of Zarahemla, which is great, but how is that going to help me right now??" But I closed my eyes, and then let them open to wherever they would on the page.  They fell on verse 32 "For your Heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things."  It hit so hard and I could feel the power of that truth in my heart. It may seem like a coincidence to some people, but of the millions of words, the millions of possibilities of pages and verses I could have found, that is what my hands and eyes fell upon, right after I'd spent so much time asking for help, and asking to know that he was there. To me, it felt like He answered it all with just one verse, and even a verse I had never noticed before. This moment was a powerful one for me, it reminded me that God can hear me and He is right there with us through this whole thing. He can understand my prayers, and He gave us tools and words to help us feel His love and to give us His advice so we can know what to do.

Don't get me wrong, there are still lots of moments when the fear wants to eclipse my faith, when the gratitude is swallowed by the potential grief of this situation and what we could lose. But as I try hard to keep my focus, I am finding that I am able to control the eclipse, just as God prompted me that I could.

If anyone WANTS to know what Scott is up for: he would be needing a surgery they call a "valve-saving aortic root repair" which is when they keep your valve (since his is normal and healthy), but replace the bulged section of aorta right where it attaches to the heart.  Ordinarily, with the bulge the size it is, they'd watch and wait to see if it grows bigger, and they typically would not recommend surgery until it grows bigger, because the surgery has its own risks...but because he has a tendency for his arteries to tear or bulge, they worry that this one could too, and if it does, there are many very serious risks.  They'd like to do the surgery before it becomes a bigger problem.  It is going to be a doozy of a recovery.  His chest will need to be cut open and his heart stopped in order to do this.  We do not have a date set for this surgery yet, but the doctor said he didn't think we needed to rush and do it before Christmas or anything, and that we could take a little time to think about when we wanted to do it and to prepare ourselves for it. He did, however, recommend not putting it off for a long time.  He actually worried enough about Scott's situation that he took it to a board of cardiologists before talking to us about the possible surgery. Anyway, the left picture shows a bulging aortic root, and the picture on the right is with that section replaced (which is what they're hoping to do).  We'd love and appreciate any prayers and good vibes and well wishes as we approach this surgery.

Time to learn to walk on water, I guess

 For years, I have been so impressed with the story of Peter. As a child, I remember judging him harshly--he was walking on the water with the Savior and then he just started sinking??  How could that happen with Jesus right there? He denied Jesus 3 times??  But as I've grown up and real life slaps you around a little bit, I am much more aware of how Peter might have felt, what he might have been experiencing, and I have come to realize that faith and fear often exist in the same space and can really be a raging battle between the two.

That is how I feel right now.  In January, Scott and I went to the ER because he was in so much pain and they discovered that he had a few kidney stones he would need to pass.  They also discovered a dissection (which is a small tear in the inner lining of the artery wall) in his celiac artery (in his abdomen).  It is a big concern and something to keep an eye on, so he has regular CT scans now to be sure it has not grown.  Throughout the last 9 months or so, as he has had increased pain in his head and his chest, we have discovered more and more problems that he has--there is an aneurysm in his carotid artery near his spine.  And the most recent discovery is that his aorta has an aneurysm too. All these problems are normally eventually treated with surgery, if they get big enough or bad enough, and his are at the threshold where they'd typically watch and wait. But that aorta...since he seems to have a propensity to have his arteries bulge or tear, that one is a big concern, because if it tears, it's likely to just rupture, and that's deadly. So he's facing a major surgery (we're not sure how soon, we'll hopefully learn more about that this next week when we visit the doctor.)  Like they have to open up his chest and replace a section of his aorta.  He'll probably spend several days recovering in the ICU before hopefully returning to a regular hospital room and eventually coming home.

For those who have been following our very challenging 2023, you also know that Scott was laid off at the beginning of summer, so the job he has now is relatively new, he started this new job in late August.  The potential problem this presents is that he is not protected by the Family Medical Leave Act and could possibly lose this job if his company doesn't want to have him gone for several weeks. We hope not, but it's a real possibility, since they're currently in the middle of a project and it's behind schedule, and he is in charge (when he started there, he took over for someone else who had been the project manager.) The timing is terrible for him to have to take several weeks off.

AND I have a second mammogram this week, because they want another look after the one I had done in late October. All by itself, this would be less scary, but throwing it on top of what Scott is facing and I just feel a sense of dread about it. 

There are moments when I feel this absolute peace, I know I'm stepping out into the darkness a little bit, and I know that this might be a scary, bumpy journey, but I feel like I'm doing it while holding Scott's hand in one hand and the Lord's hand in the other, so it's all going to be fine.  I truly believe that whatever the outcome, the Lord knows how to make beautiful things out of chaos and confusion, and He has shaped my life in beautiful ways already, even using tragedy that I've had to experience.

And then a wave of fear will hit and I will start to sink. I am feeling ALL the Peter vibes lately.  I can be doing the impossible--walking on the water with Jesus and feeling peace despite all the craziness, and then I look at the medical appointments and the holiday season coming up and the possibility of a lost job, or of Scott not waking up (he STRUGGLED to wake up after his hernia surgery a few years ago, so that's a big scare for me too) and I just feel so nervous about it all that I want to cry and hide and puke and it's hard to breathe. I want to have all the faith and just calmly walk with Jesus, but those waves are REAL. They hit hard. And when I see them and feel them, they're hard to ignore. I have had to call out for help lots of times as I start to sink. 

I know what I have felt as I have had those moments of peace.  I know I was inspired to go back to work 16 months ago, which didn't make logical sense to me.  At the time, my youngest was 3 and still at home so I had to find her childcare and I've missed out on some of her last time before she goes to school, and at the time, we did not need the money, Scott makes plenty for our needs. I truly felt like I was being guided to do this as preparation in case something happened to Scott, and we've saved every single penny I earned because we didn't need it at the time, it was just extra money to build up our rainy day fund. In hindsight, that inspiration makes much more sense now than it did then.  I know that God watches out for me.  But it's easy to forget it, and worry and freak out, even just minutes after that peace comes.  

 Our family is still so young in so many ways, and I feel so overwhelmed by all that we are facing right now.

Peter was able to call for help and reach out for the Savior's hand to lift him back up, then walk on water with Jesus.  And I feel like that's what I've got to do too.  Except I think Peter is WAY stronger than I am, because he only sank once, and I feel like even while holding Jesus' hand, I'd probably start sinking a little about every 5 seconds and have to call out for reassurance again and again and again. I truly believe that Jesus will respond to my repeated requests though and has the patience to help me despite my weakness. I appreciate this story so much, especially right now.

Mourning with those that mourn

 

Matthew 5:4 in the New Testament declares “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Mosiah 18:8-9 tells us “…as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens that they may be made light; yea and are willing to mourn with those that mourn...” D&C 42:45 shares this beautiful idea “Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die…” I think sometimes in our world, we neglect the importance of mourning, of really feeling the sense of loss, whether it’s for our health, a loved one, or a change in relationship.  We seem to have this idea that mourning makes us weak, not recognizing that it is a healthy and natural part of loving another person, that when they pass, we will mourn them.

A family member of mine was talking about how she felt like she really missed out on mourning the loss of a close loved one, and it has affected her mental health for years. It gave me pause, and made me dive in and think about how well I give myself and others the chance to mourn. I realized that sometimes I don’t even give myself the space to feel the feelings that I have, whether it be anger or mourning or terror or whatever.  It is good to move on from strong negative feelings, we can’t necessarily stop all the other things happening in our life just because of them, but they ARE important to feel and recognize and to process.  Sometimes when we have a friend (or ourselves) going through grief over a loved one, we tend to diminish it or to try to encourage them to quickly move on or get past it.

A perfect example of this was the Savior himself when his friend Lazarus died (take a look at John 11 for the full story).  When I was a teenager, a few of my friends that were in my Sunday School and religious classes joked that their favorite scripture was John 11:35  “Jesus wept.” (It’s very easy to memorize, and super short: just 2 words.) But think of the impact from that…Jesus knew that Lazarus was going to be perfectly fine, He was going to raise his friend from the dead in just a short while.  And He did. He called this friend back from death (4 days after his passing.)  But when He arrived in Bethany, He still took the time to feel the feelings with Mary and Martha, to weep with them, to truly mourn with those that mourned.  He followed his own counsel to “live together in love” and also to “mourn with those that mourn”.  He also brought sweet comfort to his friends.

I am not saying we all need to wallow in sadness forever, and I don’t think that’s what Jesus is saying either.  Ecclesiastes 3 reminds us that there is a time and a season for all things.  We need to be sure that we don’t just pass over the time to mourn, the time to lose, or the time to break down.  We also need to be sure that we don’t spend all our time in mourning and loss either; we should definitely take the time to feel joy, to gain purpose, to build up. All things in balance, of course. 

When our son died, we literally had people say things like “Well, it can’t be that bad, you only got to have him for a week, so you didn’t really know him that well.” Or “Do you feel like you’ve moved on yet?” We don’t spend all our time mourning him, but we loved and love him, and there are still days when we really feel that loss, when we wish he was here with us celebrating family events and moments. And that is OK, and nobody should make us feel like we’re broken for loving and missing our son. Mourning with those that mourn might mean different things to different people, but definitely it can mean taking the time to weep with someone, even if you know things are going to work out alright in the end, just as Jesus did.

 

It is Well with my Soul

This is not the first time that a song has touched my life at the right time, and I'm sure it will not be the last.  In order for this to make sense, you must understand both the song I'm talking about as well as the situation my family is in right now.

We'll start with the song. It Is Well With My Soul was written by Horatio Spafford, back in the 1800s, who had lost nearly all of his family at sea in a ship wreck. His wife and 4 daughters had been aboard a ship headed to Europe when the ship collided with another boat and all of his daughters died, and his wife and very few others survived. While he was crossing the ocean himself to be with his grieving wife, the captain mentioned to him that they were at the spot where the ship had gone down, and in that very spot his mind filled with words, and he wrote the lyrics to "It Is Well with my Soul."  

1. When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
   When sorrows like sea billows roll;
   Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
   It is well, it is well with my soul.
   • Refrain:
     It is well with my soul,
     It is well, it is well with my soul.
2. Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
   Let this blest assurance control,
   That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
   And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
3. My sin—oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!—
   My sin, not in part but the whole,
   Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
   Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
4. For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
   If Jordan above me shall roll,
   No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
   Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
5. But, Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
   The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
   Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
   Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul!
6. And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
   The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
   The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
   Even so, it is well with my soul.

If you've never heard it before, I highly suggest listening to it, it has touched my heart so many times in the last few weeks. 

I am part of a choir that has begun working on this piece.  I did not realize when we started how much I would need it.  

You see, in my life right now, the sea billows definitely roll, faith is really hard, and trials are feeling very overwhelming.  

In January, I took my husband to the ER in dreadful amounts of pain in his abdomen.  We thought perhaps he had kidney stones or something like that.  When we were there, they ran several tests checking to see what might be the problem.  They discovered a celiac arterial dissection (which is a tear in the inner wall of the artery near your stomach) which raised some eyebrows and gave a reason for further investigation.  If these grow problematic enough, they can require surgical intervention, as it's likely that more troubles will arise around that spot. When he saw his regular doctor, he also explained that he'd been having a lot of unusual and strong, sharp pain in his head, so the doctor ordered a CT scan of both his abdomen and then his head as well.  They did find some aneurysms near his celiac artery dissection, which will require that he goes in for CT scans every 6 months to be sure they're not growing, and even more alarming, when they did the CT scan in his head, they found that the interior carotid artery also has an aneurysm, up high near his brain.  It is currently small enough that they do not feel it is worth the risk to operate on either problem, but both problems could turn ugly really quickly if they grow or rupture.  And it continues to frighten us, as there are frequently nights where, out of nowhere, he has a lot of pain that wakes him from sleep and prevents him from getting back to sleep.  It happens so often that we don't really know if it's an emergency or just part of our "new normal." 

Of course news like this has been a tough pill to swallow. We have had some hard conversations about finances, planning for "what if?", and some very tender conversations where we express our love and gratitude for each other each day, as we want to make each moment count.  In many ways, it has been a beautiful experience, as we try to be sure that every day is a day that we cherish, that our children realize that they are so important to us and so beloved, and we are learning to treasure our health and our time even more.  But it is also a little bit terrifying, realizing that our world could turn upside down quickly if either problem got much worse.

Two mornings after we got the news about the aneurysm in his brain area, I woke up with the song "It Is Well with My Soul" in my head.  As the words swam through my brain, I was touched by their message, and felt the truth so strongly in my heart.  "No matter my lot, Thou has taught me to say 'It is well, it is well with my soul.'" The reminder that there is more than what we experience right here, right now was beyond helpful.  It is so easy to get caught up in the overwhelming feelings of our problems, but this song has given me a very needed perspective, reminding me that while my problems are big, there is more going on here, and there is a being full of light and love who understands, who took them on--who took on not just part, but the whole of my sins and sorrows.  One day, my faith shall be sight, I will understand so much more of my journey, I will be able to see the growth, the depth that have come from my experiences, and I will be able to more clearly see the hand of the Lord. 

This song also reminds me of many of the feelings I experienced as I buried my infant son.  Hoping for a miracle now, but realizing that miracles sometimes have to wait, and it's still a miracle. Feeling that Christ was there with us, even though it was time for Gideon not to stay. Even in those very difficult times, I remember feeling sometimes like "peace like a river attended my way" even though I couldn't explain it.  And so this song now reminds me of two of the hardest, but also very beautiful times in my life. Now and then.

For now, we are doing our best to plan and prepare for who knows what... Our medical bills are not going to be delightful this year, and we're still at the early end of trying to figure out what is going on and why he's got arteries with so many problems. He does have high blood pressure, which is being treated, but there is likely more at play here.  It's pretty certain that our future contains many tests and the need for a lot of faith and patience.  We have had many people reach out and offer us help and support, and we are so grateful.  But I honestly feel that one of my biggest comforts came the morning I woke up hearing that song in my head and feeling it in my soul.