(January 2017 This post has been tucked away in draft mode and tucked away in my heart. My blog has been on hold because I didn't know how or if to share. Because this experience colored the rest of my year I felt stuck anytime I thought of writing. But this year needs to be written, so here goes.)
Written April 14, 2016
Nathan turned in his mission papers on Sunday. It was exciting to see him glow with excitement all day. He has worked really really hard the last year to overcome some weaknesses in order to preapare for his mission. I could tell that though excited, he was a little sobered by the reality of it as well. He was excited to tell Grandpa Millington that night that the papers were in! Dallin's family rejoiced with us as we anticipated the call that should come within the next two weeks.
When we got home, I was burdened with an incredible heaviness. I knew that part of it was jumping back into life after Spring Break, but I could tell it was more than that. I often feel excited to get back into the schedule after a break, but I was feeling so much fear and dread about going back to my life of trying to plan things out and improve, only to have interruption after interruption. I was nervous about the struggles with Brandon and school. I was feeling badly about my own weaknesses and unmet expectations. I did NOT want to get back on the mountain and climb. I spoke to Dallin about my feelings a little, but it was late. I asked for a blessing, but he felt he needed some time so I said it was okay to wait till tomorrow. I already felt a little better just for talking about it. I was getting some ideas about waking up early and helping Brandon get a good start. We prayed, and I specifically prayed for Nathan, knowing that he was likely to have some opposition from the adversary for his decision to serve a mission. I prayed that our ancestors would come and help us and protect him.
When I awoke the next morning, Nathan was at school and Brandon was at seminary. I had gotten up early and read scriptures but gone back to bed. I was geared up to get a schedule written out with some assignments for Brandon. I called a friend to ask what she had done for her older kids, but she didn't answer. I checked my phone for messages. My world fell apart.
In checking my messages, I discovered a mistake that Nathan had made that could jeapordize everything he had worked for. And I knew for sure his mission was at best on hold. For a horrible couple of hours I tried to get ahold of Nathan, tried to get ahold of Dallin, talked to the younger kids and we prayed together. I met Dallin at work to talk for awhile and make some plans. I finally got to talk to Nathan. Many of my worst fears were unfounded, but it was still a devastating mistake.
The rest of the day was spent counseling Nathan, crying, praying, wondering how I could take care of my family with such a heavy burden on my heart. I remember the Spirit giving me specific instructions to just keep moving. "Write that check....Get an envelope....Put the stamp on...." Of course because I have little ones there were moments of smiles and joy, but the weight was ever before me, with so many unknowns.
I took the kids to violin group lessons and tried to pretend I was okay. A meeting with the Bishop--not good news, scary news, even. Dinner. Keep going. Family Home Evening. We can Sing. Brandon came through with an impromptu lesson. Get milk and a treat at the grocery store. Put kids to bed. Keep going. I was so tired, so so tired. Sleep? Please come, sleep. Give me a break from this weight, this sadness, this disappointment, this hurting to see my child hurt, this wondering what will happen, this wishing, wishing it hadn't happened. If only I had....Don't go there. A noise in the hall--is it him? Is he okay? A sleepwalking child rushes into my room thinking its the bathroom. A tender-hearted daughter can't sleep for worry. I grab my pillows and lie by her in her bed. For a few minutes I drift off, grateful for some respite. But it is still there when I wake up. Not a dream. Real. I went back to my own bed. Sleep, please come. Thoughts swirl and haunt and I try to sleep, to pray, to escape. I try praise. At least it distracts me from the incessant thinking. Praise to the Lord, the Almighty the King of Creation...I sing in my mind. Praise God from whom all Blessings Flow...Why couldn't I remember the words to any other hymns? Concentrate, focus away from the pain, away from the thoughts. After over an hour, Dallin got up to use the restroom. I asked him to check on Nathan. And finally I slept for 3 hours.
When I awoke at 6, I knew I needed to go to the temple. I was really tempted to just go back to sleep. I was SO tired and sad. But I didn't want to ignore a prompting from the Spirit. A friend had asked Ruby to babysit so she could go to the temple. I felt I needed to ask to go with her. I thought maybe I would be helping her with her own difficulties, getting myself out of the self-pity bubble. Thoughts flooded in, trying to convince me that it wouldn't work. Who would watch the baby? Brandon needed to do school work and the girls would both be gone. A name came to my mind. She was willing to rearrange her morning to come help with the kids. Lovely, wonderful person! On the way to the temple I asked about my friend and she assured me she was doing very well and was excited to go to the temple with her dad, who was following us in his car. I shared some of my burdens, and she shared that she had told Nathan's sunday school class the story of Peter on Sunday. Of Peter facing the Savior and saying he would serve him and die for him. But the Savior knew him and knew he would deny him 3 times. And Peter denied him, and was devastated, but he carried on, becoming the leader of the apostles. I was stunned. How perfect that she had shared that with my son on the very day he would have a similar experience.
I sat in the temple with Emily's temple name card in my hand, and my friend with another ancestor of mine, Lottie. I prayed for them to be there today. To be with me. It became apparent how much I needed my friend with me. Throughout the session as the tears began to flow, she put her arms around me and I was not alone. By the end of the 2 hour session, I was very tired. It was hard to stay awake, and we were at the back of the line to go through the veil. As I finally approached the veil, a small weakness of mine came to mind. Then I was flooded with my weakness, my smallness, my insignificance, my inability to be successful in so many ways. I went to the veil feeling utterly humble. I sobbed through the veil ceremony and stepped into the celestial room. I sat and sobbed, continuing to let the emotion flow out. I thought of my insignificance in the universe. I looked around the room of the beautiful brand new City Center temple Celestial room. It was full of loveliness. I was there. I looked back at the veil. "That was all?" I wondered. That was all I had to do, and I was in this lovely place. Me, insignificant me, with all of my faults and weaknesses. I had "humbled myself before the Lord". How often do the scriptures ask us to do that? I had never paid attention to that phrase before. I looked across the room. Directly in front of me were 2 empty chairs. Emily and Lottie.
It was time to go. I walked into the sunshine and blossomy fragrance of a perfect April day. My friend asked me to drive her car home so she could go out to lunch with her dad. I drove home alone, feeling a little less concerned about my troubles, mostly anxious to be with my baby and little children whom I had been away from much longer than I expected. I was not quite conscious of what had just happened.
When I got home, all was at peace. A neighbor was helping Simon with his reading. The kids had had lunch and it was cleaned up. Brandon was working on school. The baby was asleep. The other children were playing nicely together. I sat at my table to eat lunch and it hit me.
I was free.
My burden was gone. Completely gone.
I knew all would be well. Knew it.
I felt clean and pure, unspeakably clean, inside and out. It was sweetness, it was joy, it was freedom. I have known of, worshipped, loved, and tried to trust Jesus all of my life. I have been comforted by his love and peace, I have been directed by his Holy Spirit, I have had many witnesses of the reality of his life and mission and love for me. But I realized I have never felt the atonement. Not like this. It is truly the sweetest thing I have ever felt. I can not describe it, but I can say that as wonderful as it was to be at the ocean in a vacation home, I wouldn't have traded this feeling even for that.
Like Enos, I have to exclaim, "Lord, how is it done?" How could I have gone from being beside myself with sadness, to utter humility, to this complete joy?
"Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows....and with His stripes we are healed."
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We've Given Up the Easy Life for the Good Life
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