A Lesson on Trials

This post probably isn't what you think. Since my mom has been battling with possibly terminal cancer, it would seem likely that this post would be about how hard things have been knowing that she could pass away. This is not that. That was the last post. It was very sad that day, when we were all sure that my mom was going to die, and thought that her last hope for treatment hadn't worked. It turned out that wasn't entirely true; she didn't come back from the cancer clinic in Mexico because they were giving up; they came back because they didn't have the resources to deal with a certain problem she was having, so they gave her some special low-dose chemo drugs and sent her back to the U.S.

The other good news is that since then, she has been to the Huntsman Cancer Clinic in SLC and got a new doctor, and all her blood tests are improving and the chemo drugs seem to be working really well. She got a treatment that allows her to breathe again and is functioning much better and may very well continue to improve. Although her situation is still serious, I consider this a miracle. I said before that I had complete faith that the Lord could still heal her, I just didn't think it very likely that He would. It looks like He is doing that, at least for the moment.

And I am so very, very completely, totally grateful. I feel blessed beyond words or expression. Maybe we just needed to be tested to the very limit to see if we would still have faith when it looked pretty sure that our prayers wouldn't be answered. I don't know. Maybe we will still lose her, but for the moment I am filled with gratitude.

But that is not what I really wanted to write about in this post. Last week was one of the saddest weeks I have ever had, contemplating saying goodbye to my mom and spending the rest of my life without her. BUT I knew exactly what to do when that storm hit. I felt like the rains came pouring down, and I thought to myself, "I have learned in seminary and Sunday school and from the scriptures and prophets that when a really hard trial comes, I should pray and turn to the Lord for comfort, and I will find His guidance and reassurance through the scriptures and the Holy Spirit." So that's what I did, and that's what happened. He was there for me, and though it didn't make me feel happy, I knew I could get through this trial no matter what. I felt comforted and strengthened, even though I was still very, very sad.

But this week has not been like that. This week has not been near as sad, but in some ways harder. It is difficult to explain why. I have been extremely lonely, which usually makes me feel depressed. I weaned Lily last weekend, which went surprisingly well, but she has had a terrible time going to sleep since then. So she stays up really late and I don't end up spending any time with Adam. She has also been waking up really early, so I don't get enough sleep and am really tired (which makes everything worse). And I have just been feeling really, really lonely. I have friends here in Corvallis, but they are busy with their own kids, jobs, families,etc, so Lily and I end up spending most of our time by ourselves. In the end, I am not sure why it's been so bad, but I have felt extremely lonely this week and it has been really hard.

It's not the end of the world. But at certain moments, I have really struggled to know what to do about it. For example, I sang in an Easter cantata yesterday with a very good stake choir, and I was really excited about the music. But no one came to see me in it. There were a few people I knew in the audience, but none of them came to see me. Adam tried to come with Lily, but she was really tired and threw a tantrum during the first number, so he had to take her out and heard hardly any of it. I didn't realize how hard it would be on me until afterwards, when I didn't have anyone to talk to. I just wanted to be able to ask one person, "So did you hear the Hosanna number? Did you like it? It was really difficult and wonderful and I was so excited that we nailed it spot on. And what about the cool gothic-like number in the middle with the awesome loud organ?" But there was no one to ask.

It just made it all the more obvious to me that I am fairly alone out here. Now, really, it shouldn't have been a big deal. Nobody came to my concert, boo-hoo. It's not like I even had a solo or anything special. But it brought to the forefront of my mind how alone I feel here, and I couldn't figure out how to overcome that feeling, which I have been fighting all week.

So, to the point of this post. I guess I realized today that sometimes the less hard trials are actually the most challenging to learn from and face with courage. When I am sitting at home feeling lonely and inadequate and depressed, I don't automatically think, "Wow, I am in the middle of the difficult trial of being at home with my daughter today, so I should pray for help from the Lord and I have complete faith that He will strengthen me." Of course, that is exactly what I should do, but it's somehow not as obvious. I am often more likely to think something along the lines of, "Why am I so depressed today? It's not like my life is that bad. I have a beautiful daughter and a wonderful husband whom I love and who love me. I have the gospel and a home to live in. I have no right to feel depressed today. There are people out there with real trials, like dying from cancer, or their spouses leaving them, or who have no food to eat. I should just be grateful I don't have any of those trials." And of course I just beat myself up over that and feel worse and it doesn't help at all.

Don't get me wrong, I do pray for help and strength in these times, but I don't think it's with the same kind of faith. In the depth of my sorrow last week, I knew what to say: "Please let my mom be healed, but if not, I will still have faith in your plan, and I know that whatever happens is Thy will." I was heartbroken at the thought of losing her, but I knew without a doubt that God would never leave me alone in dealing with something of that magnitude. When it's something like feeling depressed, or disappointed, or inadequate, sometimes I don't even know what to say. In fact, sometimes I even feel like prefacing my prayers with, "Please forgive me for being so unhappy about this when it really shouldn't be a big deal."

Now, please don't think I am saying that my little trial of being lonely sometimes is actually harder than losing a loved one, or any number of other super hard trials that many have gone through. But sometimes it is harder for me to know how to face smaller trials or how to learn from them. Does that sound like the pride cycle? We don't remember that we need the Lord until He gives us something really, really difficult and then we suddenly remember that we can't do it alone. I don't think someone who is "cursed" with riches and fame would easily remember to get on their knees daily to beg and plead with the Lord to help them get through one day of worldly comfort without pride. Although that kind of trial certainly doesn't feel harder, it may ultimately be harder to learn from. If the point of this life is to learn and grow, then perhaps those are the hardest trials.

Maybe it's like preparing for a licensing exam. You could take several really, really hard classes in college and know without a doubt that if you passed those, you would pass the exam. Alternatively, you could take the easiest classes possible and then study on your own for the exam, but you would have to be entirely self-motivated, with no sure way to tell if you are ready or not. In that way, the self-study option almost seems harder even though in the moment it certainly doesn't feel harder.

I am not saying that I would rather go through really hard trials than the ones I am experiencing. Maybe I just need to acknowledge on a more regular basis that the hard things I experience regularly are legitimate, and that I truly do need the Lord every hour, even if it's just to get through spending the afternoon by myself.