The day after my 29th birthday, I woke up early in the morning to hear the sound of 3 of my young children screaming and arguing downstairs. Worried about them waking up the baby, I hurried out of bed (still half asleep) and rushed down the stairs to quiet them. I lost my footing on the second stair—causing me to slip straight backwards. Instinctively, I reached my hands out for anything to grab a hold of and catch myself, but there was nothing but air. Before I knew it, it felt like someone swung a bat at the base of my skull. I blacked out for a second, and thought I was going to vomit. An alarming white noise rung in my head for several minutes. I laid there and thought, did that really just happen? My head, neck, spine, and tailbone throbbed with pain, and to make matters worse, my husband was out of town on a business trip.
But life must go on, right? I still had to be a mom and meet the demands of my day. In my mind, I had no other choice but to try to ignore the pain and continue on as normally as I could. I took my daughter to gymnastics, with her three siblings in tow. I can do hard things! I’ll be fine. I tried to be mentally tough, even though with each passing minute I felt weaker and weaker. As the day continued, I struggled more than I knew how to respond to. My head spun and my brain was in a fog.
Fortunately, my husband arrived home from his trip later that day. He took over with the kids, while I fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke, everything felt even worse and my mind felt foreign to me. It wasn’t working right. I immediately started to worry about how I was going to function as a mother. How long was this going to last? How long would I feel like this?
I’m a planner. I make to-do lists. I like to exercise. I like to “seize the day” so to speak. But that was all stripped from me in an instant. My head constantly ached with pain. It felt like a rubber band was wrapped tightly around my forehead and skull. Anything that involved mental exertion felt impossible (I couldn’t make a list or plan anything for the life of me). I always felt dizzy. It strained my brain to read. I couldn’t write. My thoughts wouldn’t process easily. It was hard to find the right words when talking. Strange noises rung in my head. I couldn’t look at screens or be in the light. Carrying a conversation was exhausting. Noise overwhelmed me. Trying to follow instructions felt impossible. I couldn’t make dinner. My vision was blurred and dimmed. And to top it off, it felt like a bowling ball constantly pushed my neck and head forward and down. I felt SO overwhelmed, SO confused, and SO helpless.
I sought to find help and answers through doctors; however, after all my tests and imaging, I was cleared as “good to go.” My tailbone was broken, but there was nothing they could do about that. Yet, with each new day, I seemed to get worse and worse instead of better and better.
To my dismay, around October of 2018 (one year after my accident), even more symptoms arose. I began having chronic, strange lower abdominal pain, along with constant internal tremors. I felt shaky on the inside and weak all of the time. But once again, more tests and no answers. During the next several months I would experience all kinds of inexplicable and bizarre symptoms (some lasting for years).
I remember my legs shaking uncontrollably while standing in line at a restaurant in Nashville. At another time, I watched my right arm tremble like I was 90 years old as I attempted to merely pick weeds in my yard. I remember laying in bed, feeling my heart beat pound over and over in my face, while at the same time feeling sensations of spiders crawling all over my head. I frequently woke up in the night to numb prickly feet or numb prickly hands. Sometimes I randomly experienced severe chest pain—to the point that my heart felt like it was being squeezed by someone’s fist (hence my cardiologist visits). Many Sundays, I recall sitting through church, shifting side to side, trying to manage the pain in my tailbone, while also trying to manage the pain in my eyes, neck, and head. I remember driving and seeing flashes of light and floaters in my eyes. Often, my eyes were so dim that I felt like I was living in a cave. It took me a new, concerted effort to simply read a book aloud to my kids. I tried my best to ignore the head pain so I could still have those important moments with my children. Day after day my head seared with pain as I attempted to live normally using an I-phone and computer. I’ll never forget the dark voices in my head that had never been there before; obtrusive thoughts regularly attacked my mind. I’ll also never forget the horrible nightmares. Some nights, I remember my brain startling me awake to see an image of someone about to hit me over the head or hearing a dark voice laughing in the room. I’ve never been so, utterly, scared.
I recall one terrible night waking up to a loud shriek inside my brain. It sounded like a train whistle within my skull. A creepy prickle spread over my whole body and I was sweating profusely. I’d never had a panic attack before in my life, so I didn’t know what was going on. Strong waves of dizziness overcame my body, and it felt like I was literally spinning and falling out of control. The thought crossed my mind that I was dying, and a horrible fear and doom filled the entire room. Completely frozen and terrified to move, awful thoughts filled my soul. I prayed and prayed for help. Finally, I was able to come to my senses, but it took me 3 hours before I could feel calm enough to fall asleep again. This experience happened more than once, and it was beyond awful.
During some wearisome moments, I would plant my face in a pillow and scream in defeat. Other times I would curl in a ball on my closet floor—crying and begging God for help. Sometimes I yearned to jump out of my broken brain—out of what felt like prison—only to realize there is no escaping it. My feelings were often distorted, totally foreign to how I used to feel. I battled suffocating feelings of discouragement and fear about my unanswered conditions. The most confusing and scary of all for me to experience was depression (something I had never experienced before), but I will go into that later on in this article.
For months and months, years and years, I went to various doctors trying to find help. I saw multiple neurologists, a gastroenterologist, a gynecologist, a chiropractor, an optometrist, a cardiologist, etc—and all my testing still came back normal. Despair tempted to devour me. We couldn’t figure out what was wrong, and I was afraid of living with these conditions. Amidst all of this, at the time I was a mother to four young children, and I wanted to function at full capacity for them. I didn’t want these symptoms to rob me of my happiness and motherhood. I also worried I wouldn’t be able to continue our family as I had hoped to.
To make a long story short, here I am 5 years after the accident, and throughout this time I have found some sources of help. Some of my symptoms have left (which I am humbly grateful for), some symptoms come and go, and some are constant. I have found help through a range of sources (a specific chiropractor and energy worker, reflexology, physical therapy, etc). My chiropractor, Dr. Julie, has helped me more than anyone else. Her adjustments aid in easing my symptoms for various periods of time. There are times my eyes will clear and the lights will turn back on after she works on me. It never lasts permanently, but I am so grateful for the relief it does give me! Someday I will share more about the medical/physical/nutritional resources that I have found help from; but, the focus of this particular post isn’t to share those details.
The main physical challenge I still deal with 24 hrs a day/7 days a week is severe sensitivity to screens. If I look at a screen (especially an i-phone), I pay for it for days. It sends pain through my head and neck, my eyes go foggy, panic spreads over my body, and depression consumes my brain. This is an immediate reaction—a physical/emotional/mental response just from looking at a screen. I’ve tried ALL the things (blue light screens, “dark mode,” sunglasses, prescription glasses, E-ink readers, physical therapy, and so on). So far the only thing that works, is for me to stay of any type of screen as much as possible (which as you can probably imagine is super hard to navigate amidst 5 kids in 3 different schools, church callings, making appointments, living in a “virtual word,” texting, paying bills, using Google maps, researching, online shopping, and on and on and on…).
The physical challenges have not been easy to live with, but far, far harder are the mental, emotional, and spiritual battles I’ve encountered. Mental illness is real. I know that now. Imbalances or injury to the brain can cause terrible mental and emotional challenges. I didn’t know it was possible to experience such distorted feelings and thoughts—even when I was doing all I could to stay close to the Lord.
For those who have known me throughout my life, you know I’m about as “goody two shoes” as they come. I’ve read my scriptures and prayed daily since I was 12 years old. I’ve always cared about being obedient and doing what is right. I’ve always cared about serving the Lord and others. I’ve sought to live by faith in the Savior throughout my life. For as long as I can remember, I have felt very close to Heavenly Father, and I’ve been blessed to regularly feel an abundance of His love. Likewise, from a young age, I was also blessed with a special sensitivity to the Spirit—leading me to become keenly aware of the Spirit and His daily promptings. I don’t share any of this to brag or put myself on a pedestal, but I share it in order to help my readers (or listeners) understand the gravity of the crisis of faith I have experienced these last 5 years.
Due to my brain injury, for the first time in my life, I felt separated from the Lord. I couldn’t “feel” the Spirit like I used to. I couldn’t “feel” God’s love. I would pray and pray to feel Him near—only to still feel nothing. For decades I had experienced FEELING His love and awareness of me. But those feelings became nonexistent. I continued doing all the things I knew to do to invite the Spirit (daily prayer and scripture study, church attendance, temple, service, turning to the Savior, etc)—yet that horrible emptiness remained. I yearned to feel what I was so used to feeling, but those feelings wouldn’t come. I felt like a child who had been abandoned by a parent—left home alone and not knowing why. In so many moments, I felt tempted to succumb to fear, defeat, and despair. Facing these hardships month after month and year after year without being able to feel God in my life brought me immense suffering. For the first time in my life, I was tempted to question my faith in who God really is.
I can honestly say that I had never truly struggled with faith before this time of my life. Even after my brother died, my faith didn’t waver. I never questioned God as I faced my trials of the past. Sure, I had challenges, but I knew through Christ and through my diligent, best efforts I would be enabled and blessed. I didn’t think there was anything that could ever change the way I felt. Yet, for a wise purpose, the Lord has allowed me to experience something that would/does painfully challenge my faith. He has allowed me to know what it is like to feel separated from Him. It is the hardest thing I’ve ever faced. It has shaken me in ways I didn’t know I could be shaken.
Faith no longer came to me easily—I had to FIGHT for it. I had to FIGHT for my testimony. I had to practice faith without automatically feeling it. I had to battle doubts that I’ve never had before. I had to keep praying, even when I felt nothing. I had to fight voices of darkness and despair. I had to believe in things I couldn’t feel. Thankfully, because of the foundation I’d spent years building on, I had the conviction to press on amidst this raging storm.
I remember one evening praying intensely for a long time, pleading to the Lord for help with the lack of faith and the doubts I felt, and begging Him to make me free of the separation I felt. I didn’t get the feeling I was seeking, but I did receive a clear, spiritual prompting that helped me drastically, “I’m allowing you to experience this to give you compassion and understanding for those who doubt and waver in their faith. I need you to be a tool to bring my children back to me. You will know how to help many in their struggles.” When this revelation came to my mind, I felt Heavenly Father convey His sorrow for His children, and also of His love and intense concern for their welfare. I understood that Heavenly Father needed me to experience these feelings so I could know how to help SO many who feel the same way. I’ll admit, in the past I’ve often been judgmental of those who questioned God or who questioned their faith. I would look at them and think, “How could they abandon God? How could they turn their back on Him?” But now, I look at those people and think, “I am so sorry for the pain and confusion you are going through. I am sorry for the way you feel.” And then I pray for those people, because now I KNOW what it is like to feel separated and lacking in knowledge. I know what it is like to wonder if God really cares. I know what it is like to battle a mind of doubt and confusion.
The truth is, all of us will face trials in our life that will crucially test our faith (Abraham 3:25). What tests our faith is different and unique to each of us—whether it be depression, abuse, death of a loved one, divorce, confusion of beliefs, physical or mental illness, and so on. No matter the cause or reason, our faith will undoubtedly be tested.
This leads me to the most important part of this article—so if you have made it this far, I hope you stay with me a bit longer. I need to share how I’ve made it through this, where I have found strength, and personal experiences that saved me in my darkest moments.
Faith is a Choice
A harsh reality to face was realizing I wasn’t the same person I was before. The pre-injured Erica was 100% dependable, capable, “on top of it,” positive, faithful, energetic, and always ready to “seize the day.” I mourned the loss of my former self. Now I was the mom who missed her daughter’s school Christmas program because I didn’t see the email. I was the mom who forgot her kid’s dentist appointments. I was the person who failed to respond to text messages all of the time. In public, I was criticized/reprimanded more than once for “not completing my paperwork online.” I was the person who struggled to get out of bed and face the day some mornings. I hated feeling so depressed.
My brain fog literally was just that—a dense fog that made it extremely hard to see, think clearly, feel, and plan. I constantly felt frustrated that I couldn’t accomplish what I used to. I yearned for my former energy and capacity. I just wanted my old brain that I didn’t need to think twice about. This new brain wasn’t reliable. This new brain gave me literal nightmares. This new brain told me to panic for no reason, to be sad for no reason, to hurt for no reason, to think negatively for no reason, and to doubt for no reason.
I had a choice. I could become a victim to a broken brain, or I could choose to be true to the person who Heavenly Father created me to become. Maybe I could no longer do or feel X, Y, and Z, but I could still choose to be a loving mother, a devoted wife, a charitable friend, and a faithful follower of Christ. I could choose faith. I could choose service. At the end of the day, I could choose.
I still make that choice every day. When my brain is “off” and screams in all distortion –I make a choice. “I am not a victim of my feelings,” I reply. Or, “Heavenly Father, please give me strength to rise above this,” I pray. When despair tries to suffocate me, I try to turn my mind to hope and faith. I turn my mind to service. Just because I feel depressed doesn’t mean I have to behave depressed. Or just because I feel impatient doesn’t mean I have to behave impatiently. I strive to do my best, and then leave the rest with the Lord. I still continually seek medical and holistic healing, and in the meantime try not to allow myself to be a prisoner to this trial. I’m far from perfect at this, but I’m trying.
Neil L. Andersen taught,
“Faith is not by chance, but by choice…How we live our lives increases or diminishes our faith. Prayer, obedience, honesty, purity of thought and deed, and unselfishness increase faith. Without those, faith diminishes. Why did the Savior say to Peter, “I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not?” Because there is an adversary who delights in destroying our faith. Be relentless in protecting your faith.”
That last statement, “Be relentless in protecting your faith,” has never felt more real to me than now. It reminds me that I must continually fight to protect my faith, daily. That I must act—making choices to follow the example that the Savior has set before me—regardless of how I feel.
I’ve learned it is far easier to live by truth than fleeting feelings. Feelings can be so deceiving! But truth is everlasting, unchanging. Time and time again, I’ve found reading my scriptures, studying the words of living prophets, and praying to God helps me to find peace, truth, and direction amidst a confused mind.
Be Still and Know
I remember a specific period of time in 2021 that was really, really bad for me. I tried a new therapy that backfired and I struggled immensely for several weeks. I felt so alone. I would pray and pray to feel God’s awareness and love, only to yet again, feel nothing from Him. I could handle the pain, bad vision, brain fog, nightmares, etc—but the separation and loneliness I felt burdened me beyond explanation. I yearned to be able to feel the Spirit like I used to—to feel that unmistakable love from above—but day after day it seemed like the heavens were shut and God had forsaken me. I recognized that it was probably my messed up brain causing me to feel that void, but I still wondered if God was really who I always believed He was. Couldn’t He help me to feel at least a small portion of love? For even just a moment?
During this time of depression and confusion, I also experienced a disturbing night that utterly shook me in my already fragile state. I awoke with the distinct smell of smoke/fire/burning filled in my nostrils. Consequently, I shot up in my bed and looked out of the window to see what appeared to be smoke rising in the window. In panic I screamed, but then realized there was no fire, no smoke, no smell. It was a terrifying hallucination. I closed my eyes and prayed, “Why? Why does my brain do such awful things? Please, please help me. I can’t do this. I fear living like this.” After my earnest plea, I still felt alone and I just cried in my bed. At the conclusion of the day, this is what I wrote in my journal,
“I wish I was stronger. I wish I had more faith. I wish I knew how to rise above a broken mind. But I’m not giving up. And as always, I will continue to wait on the Lord—it is the only way I can survive this.”
I’m so grateful that I didn’t let despair win.
After reading my scriptures and writing in my journal that night, tears slid down my cheeks as I again poured my heart out to God. I felt broken in every way and prayed in humility and desperation. Suddenly, while praying, a deep, abiding quietness came over my entire being. The Lord calmed my troubled heart and hushed my anxious mind. My soul became completely, still. I did not heal or feel freed from my burdens, but what a blessing it was to have my fears silenced. That sweet blessing continued with me for days. My head still ached, my eyes remained a blur, I still couldn’t “feel” much, and I couldn’t think clearly, but I felt so relieved to “be still.” I humbly and graciously accepted the blessing I was given. I embraced the blessing of calm and trusted in the Lord.
Looking back on this experience, I can see how flawed my thoughts were, and how ultimately turning to and relying on truth was such a gift and blessing to me. It still is. I’ve now had this same experience multiple times. As I keep trying, pressing on in faith, and turning to truth, the Lord sends me specific needed blessings. Often those blessings are unexpected and unpredictable in timing, but I’ve learned to recognize and savor them.
Discerning Truth
One day, I remember asking my son, “Do you know how much I love you?” He responded by saying, “Yeah Mom, I do.” I replied, “How do you know?” He simply answered, “By all the things you do for me.” His response reminds me that indeed, God is involved in the details in my life, sending me His love—I just have to stand back and recognize it.
Yes, I would love to feel God’s love like I used to, but I’ve learned to recognize His love in so many, many other ways—the gift to “be still,” a friend randomly reaching out to see how I’m doing, my precious children who bring me joy every single day, a child cuddling up in my lap and telling me how much they love me, my husband Brent—(who has been a literal angel on earth, helping and serving me in the most Christ-like manner I’ve ever witnessed in another person), a beautiful sunrise, the gift to bring another child into the world, receiving specific revelation on who to serve and how to serve them, financial blessings, the inspired words of a Church leader, and the energy and strength to mother my children.
A practice I’ve learned to do to help me rise above my “off brain days” is to either on the spot make a mental list or write a list of all the ways I see God’s hand in my life. Sometimes I do this multiple times a day. It always helps and uplifts me, every time. It opens my spiritual eyes to see the good that is there—enabling me to act in faith vs. being a victim. It is a way to channel my mind to truth and invite the Holy Ghost to direct my thoughts.
Through 5 years of this trial, I am better able to realize that as I have kept my covenants, the Holy Ghost truly has been my constant companion—I’ve just had to learn to recognize Him in new ways. Maybe I can’t feel Him the same way I used to, but I can unmistakably see how He has guided me, warned me, revealed truth, and sent promptings and assurances. I was and am continually blessed with the fruits of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance (Galatians 5:22-23). Although I don’t always physically feel these fruits, I am able to distinguish them spiritually. The Holy Ghost is a great mentor, revelator, source of peace, and teacher. As I do my part to stay close to Him and press on with faith, His gifts help me immensely. Amidst my imbalanced brain and foreign feelings, I still have received revelation for my blog, my calling, my personal life, and in parenting my children. I still regularly receive revelation on who I can serve and reach out to. As I invite His companionship through consistent scripture study and prayer, I am blessed to sort out my confusions and find truth.
Russell M. Nelson teaches,
“The voices and pressures of the world are engaging and numerous. But too many voices are deceptive, seductive, and can pull us off the covenant path. To avoid the inevitable heartbreak that follows, I plead with you today to counter the lure of the world by making time for the Lord in your life—each and every day. If most of the information you get comes from social or other media, your ability to hear the whisperings of the Spirit will be diminished. If you are not also seeking the Lord through daily prayer and gospel study, you leave yourself vulnerable to philosophies that may be intriguing but are not true...Make your own spiritual foundation firm and able to stand the test of time by doing those things that allows the Holy Ghost to be with you always. Never underestimate the profound truth that “the spirit speaketh…of things as they really are, and of things as they really will be. It will show unto you all things that ye should do.”
I can testify that these words are true. Becoming attuned to the Spirit takes persistence and patience, but it is worth every effort. We each have to learn how the Spirit speaks to us, personally. No one else can do the work for you or for me. It’s a pursuit, a choice, that we each must strive for. We need to invite the Spirit—daily—into our lives in order to practice “Hearing Him.” 2 Nephi 31:3 reminds us, “…the Lord God…speaketh unto men according to their language, unto their understanding.” More than ever before, I see how important it is for me to make time for the Lord, every day, in order to invite truth into my mind and heart—to help me filter out the static and confusion I so regularly combat.
President Nelson promised, “If you will sincerely and persistently do the spiritual work needed to develop the crucial, spiritual skill of learning how to hear the whisperings of the Holy Ghost, you will have all the direction you will ever need in your life.”
During a tough day of 2019, I was able to see how the Holy Ghost helped me. In my journal I wrote,
“Today had moments that felt really, really hard, but it also had moments that were so tender and uplifting. I’m still trying to balance how to respond when I feel really “off,” down, sad, fearful, anxious, etc. I’m learning to recognize that this is a result of my injuries and not me. My head really bothered me today, but I had special moments when I felt the Spirit helping me. While walking/biking with my kids to all of the yard sales in the neighborhood, I felt fulfillment and joy. While cleaning with my kids I felt joy. While putting my kids to bed I felt love and joy. I’m reminded that such feelings are fruits of the Spirit for which I am grateful.
“Tonight while doing “Come, Follow Me” study with the kids and studying Galatians 5:22-23, I asked the kids, “What does longsuffering mean?” My son replied, “To suffer a long time.” This caught me off guard but penetrated my heart. His answer helped me understand in a new way and the Spirit confirmed to me that what he was saying was true. My suffering has been long, but without question the Spirit has enabled me in my suffering, and I know He can continue to do so as long as I continue to seek His companionship.
“I’m grateful for these tender mercies today.”
Spiritual Memories
I remember listening to a talk given by Neil L. Andersen about the importance of spiritual memories in our lives. He discussed how those memories can be like luminous stones when we find ourselves in difficult times. His words touched me and perfectly described my situation. Without question, my spiritual memories were crucial to my current, suffering state. I had to draw upon past memories regularly to help me “hold on.” I recall one night making a list of every single spiritual memory I could think of. It strengthened me to remember past personal witnesses of truth.
Elder Andersen exhorts,
“Embrace your sacred memories. Believe them. Write them down. Share them with your family. Trust that they come to you from your Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son. Let them bring patience to your doubts and understanding to your difficulties. I promise you that as you willingly acknowledge and carefully treasure the spiritually defining events in your life, more and more will come to you. Heavenly Father knows you and loves you!”
Because I gained a testimony at such a young age, I thankfully have countless personal experiences with my Heavenly Father, Savior, and the Holy Ghost. I’ve also been blessed to faithfully keep a journal—so almost all of the experiences are recorded. It uplifts me to remember the many times in my youth when I felt wrapped in a blanket of God’s love as I read the Book of Mormon each day. Another experience I’ll never forget was how the Savior literally carried me and eased my pain through the death of my brother and the birth of my daughter. I also feel awe as I reflect on my time as an EFY counselor—getting to regularly bear testimony and be filled with the spirit and love of the Lord. I remember serving as a Relief Society president at the age of 18, and witnessing how the Lord led me by the hand in His work—revealing to me how to meet the needs of the sisters, how to manage my time, and filling my soul with His love for me and the sisters in the ward. I could go on and on, but those are just a few experiences that strengthen me to reflect on.
It makes sense to me why time and time again the word ‘remember’ is found in the Book of Mormon. Because if we don’t put forth the time and effort into remembering, by default we will forget. We will forget God’s hand. We will forget our purpose. We will forget witnesses of truth. Satan wants us to forget because he knows the power of our spiritual memories. He tempts us to doubt past witnesses or to diminish what we’ve experienced. Let’s not let him succeed!
On a side note, there may be some readers (or listeners) who feel like they don’t have any spiritual memories to draw upon—and that’s okay. I pray in time, and with patience, all may come to have a spiritual experience that will become a spiritual memory. That experience doesn’t have to be grand or loud or earth-shattering, but it will be an experience that is written upon the heart. Coming unto the Lord does take effort, humility, and patience—one small step at a time—but it is always worth the effort. I know God wants us all to have heart-changing, spiritual, memorable experiences.
I was Prepared
About a year before my accident, a verse from a hymn repeatedly came to my mind. This happened at various moments for months, and it never made sense to me at the time. I would ponder, Why is the Lord sending me this message, over and over? What am I to learn and understand? I enjoyed contemplating the song, but I still couldn’t place my finger on why I needed it’s message so often. It was a message I felt I already knew and believed wholeheartedly.
I vividly recall leaving the gym after exercising, walking outside to feel the warm sunshine on my face, and the words once again settling in my soul,
“Our Savior’s love, shines like the sun with perfect light. As from above, it breaks thru clouds of strife. Lighting our way, it leads us back into his sight. Where we may stay, to share eternal life” (“Our Savior’s Love,” p. 113).
Next, the thought came to my mind that this was a preparatory message—a message I would need in the future. I soaked in the feeling and moment, and wondered what was in store for me.
I had no idea, not the slightest, for what I was about to face the next year—and many years after that. I now see why the Lord sent me those words so often. I’ve needed that message and reminder every day since I fell. The reminder that on a dark, dreary, and overcast day, the sun is still shining brightly behind those clouds. We don’t always “see” the sun, but we know it’s there. And eventually, the sun breaks through the clouds—always. Our Savior, Jesus Christ, does the same. He is there, no matter the weather, and He does break through all barriers that stand in our way, if we turn to Him. He will light the way before us—that will ever lead us back to Him. I am grateful for this personalized, special message from above to help me face my darkest hours.
This year, I made another realization about how God prepared me for this trial. I gave birth to my fourth child January 2017. She was such a blessing…and super challenging at the same time. Because of her reflux, she cried a lot and needed to be held A LOT. I found myself sleep deprived and up at all hours of the night trying to help her. However, it was in those quiet moments while I held my baby, that direct thoughts started coming into my mind. The thoughts were specific, but all over the place. I couldn’t make sense of it. So, I decided to make a list of these “impressions.” When I finished, I found myself looking at a list of past experiences, insightful phrases, truths, scriptures, quotes, lessons learned. I wondered what is all of this for? What was I supposed to do with these impressions? I prayed for understanding. Was I supposed to write a book? Start a blog? The more I thought about it, the more I realized Heavenly Father was asking me to share my heart with others through a blog.
For weeks I fought against starting a blog. I did not want to do it. I tried to bury the impressions and ignore the thoughts. Yet, I felt prompted over and over to do it. In time, I finally submitted to the Lord’s will; I would start a blog. It made me totally nervous and uneasy to make my first post; but as I started typing, the Holy Ghost filled my soul with love and support from Above.
Nine months after starting my blog, I fell down the stairs. Coincidence? I think not. (To clarify, I don’t think God caused me to fall, but I do believe He allowed it to happen; and therefore prepared me to face such a trial). Some of my blog posts before my accident were titled things like, “Fear is a Lie,” “To the Mom with Noise in her Head,” “He Sees You,” and “When All Darkness Gathers In.” I didn’t know at the time that I was writing for me.
I had my blog printed into a book this year so I could easily read my past articles (without having to use a screen). I can’t begin to tell you how much reading it helps me. It feels as if each message I was prompted to write then, is exactly what I need to help me now. What a tender mercy from the Lord. Indeed, He works in mysterious, yet small and simple ways, that bring about such great blessings (Alma 37:6). I am humbly grateful for how the Lord has prepared me for my trials, and how He can prepare all of us, if we allow Him to.
Feeling Forsaken
I never anticipated that I would ever feel forsaken by God for a long period of time. However, in the early years of this trial, I did. It was scary and confusing. In November of 2018, the Holy Ghost sent me a much needed insight while studying my scriptures. He taught me that I am not alone in feeling separation from the Father. Long ago, my Savior too cried out for His Father to spare Him, but Christ still humbly submitted to His Father’s will. He too cried out, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me” (Matthew 27:46)? But he pressed on, even in feeling forsaken by His Father. My Savior knew what I was feeling. He knew what it was like to feel alone. He knew what it was like to continue in faith, even when He felt forsaken.
Jeffrey R. Holland shared a similar thought,
“I speak of those final moments for which Jesus must have been prepared intellectually and physically but which He may not have fully anticipated emotionally and spiritually—that concluding descent into the paralyzing despair of divine withdrawal when He cries in ultimate loneliness, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” The loss of mortal support He had anticipated, but apparently He had not comprehended this... For His Atonement to be infinite and eternal, He had to feel what it was like to die not only physically but spiritually, to sense what it was like to have the divine Spirit withdraw, leaving one feeling totally, abjectly, hopelessly alone. But Jesus held on. He pressed on. The goodness in Him allowed faith to triumph even in a state of complete anguish. The trust He lived by told Him in spite of His feelings that divine compassion is never absent, that God is always faithful, that He never flees nor fails us.”
In another instance Elder Holland further taught,
“…whenever these moments of our extremity come, we must not succumb to the fear that God has abandoned us or that He does not hear our prayers. He does hear us. He does see us. He does love us. When we are in dire circumstances and want to cry “Where art Thou?” it is imperative that we remember He is right there with us—where He has always been! We must continue to believe, continue to have faith, continue to pray and plead with heaven, even if we feel for a time our prayers are not heard and that God has somehow gone away. He is there. Our prayers are heard. And when we weep He and the angels of heaven weep with us.”
I hope I can always remember this—I hope we all can. God is with us. He will not forsake us. It might feel that way, but we have to trust that He is there. I have to repeat these truths to myself regularly in order to not succumb to the fear that I have been left alone.
Unexpected Answers
There is an old video recording of me from when I was a small, 3-year-old girl. I come running into the living room, filled with pure joy to see my presents from Santa. He came! But soon my chubby face is right in front of the camera, and I am broken-hearted, close to tears. In my little hands is a crumpled envelope. In confusion I say, “Mom, Santa Claus didn’t get my letter that I left in the tree. He didn’t get it!” My mom responds quickly by saying, “Oh, but I think he did! Look at the envelope, you can tell he opened it and read it!” I carefully examine the envelope and relief spreads across my face. I smile and say, “Yeah Mom, he did, he got it.” In my 3-year-old world, all felt right once I knew Santa had read my letter.
Now here I am, 30 years later, much older and wiser, yet in a childlike way I still yearn to know I am heard. My experience with Santa’s letter “left behind” reminds me that God hears me. Maybe He doesn’t answer me in the way I want or expect, and maybe at times it feels as though He doesn’t receive my prayers, but if I take a moment to step back, I see that He absolutely does listen and answer—but in His way and His timing. I’m striving to not get so focused on what I want (or think I want), but instead to, “trust in the Lord with all [my] heart; and lean not unto [my] own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5-6). I’m learning to embrace the revelation that DOES come, rather being discouraged about the answers/feelings/solutions that do NOT come.
Dallin H. Oaks taught,
“…we should recognize that the Lord will speak to us through the Spirit in his own time and in his own way. Many people do not understand this principle. They believe that when they are ready and when it suits their convenience, they can call upon the Lord and he will immediately respond, even in the precise way they prescribed. Revelation does not come that way.”
President Oaks words have definitely held true to my experience with prayer! Many times the Lord has answered my prayers in unexpected ways and at unexpected times during my hardships.
I remember a special experience I had with such a prayer. As I mentioned before, my brain injury led me to have relentless, terrifying nightmares. I dreaded going to bed at night, fearing what the night would bring. For weeks I fervently prayed for uplifting dreams and for God to make the nightmares stop. Until one morning, just as I was waking up, in my mind I saw a chubby-cheeked baby’s face, with a huge open-mouthed grin. My entire being was filled with pure joy. I did not recognize the baby, and I was not pregnant at the time of the dream, but I felt humbly grateful for how God answered my prayers with such an uplifting vision. Moreover, almost 2 years later, a few months after giving birth to my daughter Charlotte, the dream came back to my memory. I couldn’t believe it. The sweet baby in my dream was my new baby, Charlotte. My heart was so touched. What a miracle, I thought. What a tender, uplifting, personalized blessing from the Lord, sent to me in my hour of need. God hears, and He answers.
Recently, another answered prayer is that I’m finally receiving clarity and courage on how to share my story. I’ve been working on this post for 4 years now. So many times I’ve tried writing, only to feel frustrated and doubting of myself. I would think, who am I to act like I know anything? I am as weak and pitiful as ever. Or I would fear, why would I ever share my most personal demons and trials for the world to judge, mock, and criticize? These doubts (and many more) often shut me down and I would step away from writing. However, in the last month or so, the Spirit has sent me an urgency to share. I don’t know if it is because of the rampant number of suicides happening (some of these deaths from people very close to me) or the increased rate of depression surrounding us. I don’t know if it has to do with the crisis of faith going on for so many people. And I don’t know if what I say will even make much of a difference. But for whatever reason, God is making it clear to me that it is time to share. I feel naked before a crowd, but I know I’m supposed to do this. I used to think that I would share my story once I had healed and “conquered” my battles, but I’m seeing that that time may not come in this life. So, I’m grateful for the Holy Ghost’s direction as I write and share something that isn’t within my comfort zone. I thank the Lord for His hand in this blog post/podcast. I pray it will be a strength to someone out there. I know it has helped me to remember and reflect. Indeed, suffering strips one down to their very heart—and then a choice has to be made—whether the heart hardens, withers, and dies, or whether the heart softens, opens, and shares.
Conclusion: I Know My Way
Not long ago, I listened to my son, Karter, practice playing the piano. As he played and struggled, persisted, made mistakes, tried again and again—it was music to my ears. I felt so proud of him. No part of me cared that it wasn’t perfect. I just felt so much joy in his efforts. The moment reminded me of my own journey. The Lord lovingly is proud of my efforts. Even if I have to learn and relearn. Even if I stumble and fall. All He cares about is that I keep trying—which in the end will create a masterpiece.
The same holds true for each of us. We are NEVER too far gone for the Lord. He stands ready, with arms open, to receive us. “As oft as they repented and sought forgiveness, with real intent, they were forgiven” (Moroni 6:8). He loves to see us try, even if that means we stumble in our efforts. Because of Him, we all have reason to hope. We can all be free of whatever burdens our souls; for He heals broken souls—regardless of the reason they are broken. Some are broken from sin, some from abuse (sexual or physical or emotional….or all of the above), some from shattered dreams, some from the wrong decision of others, some from mental illness, some from pornography, and some from a myriad of other causes of brokenness.
Gerrit W. Gong lovingly reminds us,
“Along life’s path, we may lose faith in God, but He never loses faith in us. As it were, His porch light is always on. He invites us to come and return to the covenants that mark His path. He waits ready to embrace us, even when we are “yet a great way off.” When we look with an eye of faith for the patterns, arc, or connected dots of our experience, we can see His tender mercies and encouragement, especially in our trials, sorrows, and challenges, as well as in our joys. However often we stumble or fall, if we keep moving toward Him, He will help us, a step at a time.”
Will you join me in coming unto Christ with hope? Hope has not come to me easily during this trial. It is hard for me to maintain. But it encourages me when I see others hold on and press on, even while the storm rages. Please join me, for your light will surely brighten mine.
I’ll close this (probably the longest blog post in history lol), with one last experience I feel prompted to share.
Blinding sheets of rain pounded my windshield as I drove home late one night. I strained to see the narrow, winding back-road through the dark thunderstorm. I thought to myself, I’m so glad I know these roads and know my way home or I would totally be lost. My mind then wandered to the storm that has raged in my life the past while, and in that moment, the Spirit came over me. You know the way. My eyes filled with tears. Yes, I could make it through my adversities because I did, and I do, I know the way. I know the way. I don’t know exactly what my future holds or what tomorrow will bring—but I know that as I hold to the iron rod of God, I can make it through whatever darkness comes my way. I won’t let a moment of uncertainty or doubt destroy a lifetime of surety. As I rely on Christ and continue doing the things I know to do, eventually I will weather the storm. He has delivered me before; He can deliver me again. My way will ever be the gospel of Jesus Christ, choosing faith, relying on truth, remembering and reflecting, trusting in the Lord’s timing, finding joy in the journey, and holding on to the hope I find in Christ. His way, is the sure way. He is the way, the only way.
Yes, I do, I know my way.
