Miracles

My house is quiet, and for the first time in a very, very long time, my heart is also quiet.  As 2012 draws to a close, I am tired, but I am peaceful.  This was a fighting year.  It was a year in which I reclaimed much that was lost.  It was a big year.  It was a celebratory year.  We bought our first home and got our first taste of what owning a home really means (a lot of work).  It was a worrisome year.  Less than 48 hours ago I returned home from Zach's third hospital stay for serious respiratory distress.  The stays are more frequent, and they are getting longer, not shorter.  During our last stay, a doctor recklessly threw out a term Grant and I did not care for one bit.  It would mean a life-changing diagnosis for Zachary and our family if it were to prove true.  I don't think it's true.  I hope it's not true.  But I don't know.  Time and testing will tell.  My heart and mind aren't ready to wrap around that one yet, so I won't.  In this moment I feel peace.  In this moment, my baby is in his own crib sleeping soundly.  And I am profoundly grateful.  A century ago, we would have lost Zach. I know that.  But I live now, in a day and age of medical advancement and miracles that make it possible for him to bounce back in a matter of days.  My heart spills over with gratitude when I think of the pioneers and those in earlier days who didn't have emergency rooms and nebulizers and oxygen tanks and X-rays and fast-acting medicines.  Add to that my gratitude for having the great fortune of knowing about the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ, to have immediate access to the priesthood, to be able to hold my baby who is fighting to breathe and tell Grant, "He needs a blessing ... now," and that blessing offers comfort and healing and expedites Zach's recovery.  I felt in a very real way the joined faith and prayers as friends and family were notified of Zach's condition through phone calls, text mesages, and Facebook posts.  Immediately I was flooded with offers to pray, put Zach's name on temple prayer rolls, with words of encouragement and support.  I believe those offers to pray were more than just nice words.  I believe they contributed to Zach's surprisingly quick recovery.  I believe they were what made the difference between almost being sent to Primary Children's Hospital to making an overnight turnaround that stunned all of the doctors, nurses and respiratory therapists.  My cup overfloweth.  I believe in miracles more than ever.

Another miracle has come to me in recent months.  Even for some closest to me it may have gone unnoticed.  But it has been deep and real and profound.  I have been extended the great gift of mercy and have experienced in a very real way the miracle of forgiveness.  For over five years I have battled with a heartache that was more than I could handle.  My world was turned upside down by an unexpected trial, and the circumstances of my life at the time were such that I was completely unable to deal with the trauma, so I did the only thing I could to survive and put it far away on a back, back burner.  But more than just not dealing with it, I made the situation worse for myself.  I let all of the hurt, pain, and anger (all of which was enormous) fester inside of me.  I slowly poisoned myself with my own bitterness.  I finally reached a point this past year when I knew I needed help.  I saw no way out.  I did not believe that my problems could ever be solved in this life, and yet I had to keep living.  But I knew the way I was "living" was no life at all -- not for me, not for my husband, not for my kids.  I was miserable.  I was deeply depressed.  I was so very angry.  At one point, I sadly recognized that the description in the scriptures of being "hard-hearted" applied to me.  I had no idea how anything could ever change, but I knew it had to.  I pleaded, though somewhat half-heartedly, with Heavenly Father for help.  I don't think I fully believed He could fix things, but I knew that if He couldn't help me, no one could.  And fortunately, in His great love and mercy, He helped my unbelief.  He took my particle of faith, and slowly, patiently, He began to work with me.  Honestly, my feelings were so numb initially, that I did not notice His workings with me.  But He guided me, at a pace I was comfortable with, to the right people, music, literature, conference talks, scriptures, and slowly, almost imperceptibly, my heart began to change.  Hope began to sprout where it had long-since been dead and shriveled.  I started to believe things could change, and where my outlook had once seemed so bleak and insurmountable, I began to envision reconciliation.  My heart was softening, which was a miracle all by itself.

But the true miracle occurred when I was able to forgive and to seek forgiveness.  Through circumstances, the timing of which was nothing but divinely orchestrated, I was able to finally let go of my anger, fear, and frustrations.  In the moment that my long-held feelings of hurt ceased to matter, I felt my burden physically lifted from me.  In a way that I can't explain, I literally felt lighter.  The sick feeling in my stomach that had been a nearly constant companion for years was gone.  It was gone.  The irony is that the situation that caused my sorrows had not changed one bit.  To this day, the situation that had caused me such internal agony has not been resolved.  God didn't change my circumstances, but He did change my heart.  For so long I had firmly believed and stubbornly insisted that I could not feel at peace until wrongs had been righted, apologies made, and great efforts extended to remedy all the damage done.  By holding to that imaginary rule, I held onto my pain.  I wouldn't let it go.  It was wounding me and making me so unhappy, but I clutched to it so tightly.  My biggest regret now is that I didn't let it go sooner.  Not to say the letting go was easy.  It wasn't.  It isn't.  There are still days when my feelings about certain people and situations surges inside of me and that anger and hurt starts to creep back in.  It takes vigilant effort to keep it from taking over again.  But I am now a firm believer in this truth shared by President James E. Faust in a conference talk given in April 2007 (just a month before tragedy struck my life, incidentally): “Keep a place in your heart for forgiveness, and when it comes, welcome it in.”

What was it that allowed forgiveness to finally come, and for me to be able to welcome it when it did?  First and foremost, I have to attribute what happened to me as a miracle made possible through the Savior's Atonement.  I can assure you that on my own I was unable to let go of such a deep level of pain and sorrow.  He alone could take that from me.  And He did.  I am humbled to think of the price associated with my freedom.  He paid the ransom for my anguish through His own personal agony.  I have always loved the Savior and believed in Him.  I have always loved Him for His sacrifice for me.  But not to the extent that I now believe and love and appreciate.  It is only through His mercy that my pain has been lifted.  But I also believe, as with all matters of faith, effort is required on our part.  I have had to work and struggle and humble myself to get to this point.  I had to sit through talks and lessons at church that were uncomfortable and sometimes hurtful to hear.  I had to let go of my opinions, feelings, frustrations and keep my mouth shut in moments when I wanted to say something but knew it was not helpful for needed.  I have to have faith that situations that are difficult and uncertain will eventually start feeling natural and comfortable again.  I have had to climb out of an emotional mud pit.  All of that has been with God's help and mercy and through the help of others He has placed in my path.  It has been hard.  It has been humbling, but with Him, it has been possible.

The critical moment of change came through General Conference.  Two  talks stand out in particular.  In the general Relief Society Meeting, something to this effect was said, "All that is unfair in the world can be made right through the Atonement of Jesus Christ."   The entire message and spirit of that meeting were very much what I needed at that time (even though in the moment, it was so hard to hear).  But the real moment that pushed me to action was this quote from President Henry B. Eyring from the general meeting: "Many of you, as I have, have felt fear in approaching someone you have offended or who has hurt you. And yet I have seen the Lord melt hearts time after time, including my own. And so I challenge you to go for the Lord to someone, despite any fear you may have, to extend love and forgiveness. I promise you that as you do, you will feel the love of the Savior for that person and His love for you, and it will not seem to come from a great distance."  When he said those words, I knew in that very moment what I needed to do, and that I needed to do it soon.  I was so scared and didn't know how it was possible.  But within less than two weeks, the opportunity presented itself, and the result was a sweet moment of forgiveness given and forgiveness accepted.

I am so thankful for the miracle of forgiveness.  It has been the greatest blessing I have experienced this year.  My world is so different now that I have allowed the clouds of anger and pain to disperse.  I feel the sunlight of hope again.  Forgiveness is not easy.  It doesn't come without a price.  But it is possible.  With Christ, all things are possible.  I know that, because He took my very hardened heart and softened it.