Happiness......
I am going to attempt the impossible: clearly describe my
unclear feelings. :) Many of you continue to read because you know
us personally; there are also a good portion of you that probably
read Abigail's CarePage to get a glimpse into the mind of how one
mother feels and copes after the death of her child.
To maintain the honesty that I've always tried to write with, I'll tell you that I'm a mess. The good news is, I could always be worse. So I guess I'm a semi-mess. We're approaching the 8-month mark, and I think the shock has about worn off. So I think my feelings are fine, they're natural, and I'm not going to freak out about them. I know I won't always feel like this. But it has hurt a lot lately.
Remember my description about "me" being a blue sphere? I have more to add to that analogy. I've learned that the painful scoop out of me isn't the only red, aching part. There is a network of red threads that circumference my entire blue-ness, like the elaborate blood vessel system in the body. I can be happy and in pain, all at once. That's messy.
Why does it hurt so bad? Is this what the first year is supposed to be like? Well then, I suppose I'm doing okay. I've heard the second year is worse. But I guess I should explain....it's not just thinking of her being gone that hurts. LIFE hurts. There is a pain always inside, sometimes deep, sometimes just right under the skin. I'll smile, but I hurt. I understand the Plan of Salvation and I am so grateful for it; and I hurt. As President Monson said, "From the bed of pain, from the pillow wet with tears, we are lifted heavenward by that divine assurance and precious promise: “I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.” Such comfort is priceless."
I told Aaron that it's ironic to me that often times (read: not always) the people who go through life and death situations understand a little deeper about the importance of appreciating the moments, of living the days to the fullest, and yet the pain they have to go through is almost in direct opposition to being able to do that. It is a challenge, and one that can bring guilt if you let it. Yet another challenge!
I have been thinking.....
Someday, I want to be happy again.
Oh, I'm "happy" now. There is so much to be grateful and happy about. We laugh with our kids and have joy in our hearts as they are growing up righteously. We love to serve others and bring happiness to them. Life is good.
But the other day I realized that because someone so close and dear and an actual part of me is gone, I could technically go through the rest of my entire mortality thinking that my happiness won't ever be complete here on earth.
And I don't believe that. I don't want to believe that. So I've been thinking about it. The thought that came to me this morning is that someday--years from now, in all honesty--this won't hurt so much. Today I'm using happiness and joy and peace interchangeably. I know there are differences, but it's the big picture I'm talking about.
Originally I thought that someday a little statue of me that is sitting now on the "pain" side of a scale, will one day move over to the other side of the scale where "peace" resides. And then I realized how silly that is. That's just the line graph all over again.
More accurately, my life is represented by a coin. One, solid piece. On one side is pain and sorrow and tears, and on the other side is happiness and joy and peace. But my coin doesn't just lay flat on the table; rather, it's in a perpetual state of motion. Right now, the "pain side" is predominantly on top, and occasionally as it rotates (like it would coming out of a "spin") the sides come up and let a little happiness slip out from underneath.
Someday, the happiness side will be on top and only small amounts of pain will slip out occasionally. But they are both always there.
How long will this process take for the coin to flip over? I don't know. Years, likely. Will it be an easy transition? Likely not. And how does it work, this process of having joy dominate in my life? Only through the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I cannot do it myself. The mortal woman in me would choose to grieve over Abigail indefinitely. But He has so much more planned for me, if I will work with Him. I think this is what He means by bearing our pains (that come from no fault of our own). It's not an immediate event. And for growth purposes, I don't think he takes away *all* the pain. But eventually, He can turn it into joy.
President Henry B. Eyring recently spoke on the miracle of a husband and wife becoming unified. Although I'm not discussing marriage here, the concept spoke volumes to me: "The miracle of becoming one requires the help of heaven, and it takes time."
Miracles require the help of heaven, and take time. Pain turning to joy will be a miracle.
And so I will keep on doing the things that I know I should be doing:
I will keep smiling.
I will keep serving others with full purpose of heart.
I will keep praying and studying my scriptures and fasting.
I will try to sing more.
I will keep working on being ever more grateful, knowing that I can become a better instrument for Him by enduring well.
I will keep serving others. I will try to write less "I"s in my updates, haha.
And I will look forward to the day when the joy is more than the pain, knowing that it will take a miracle and "the help of heaven and time." What a wonderful thing to look forward to!!!!!
"Our Heavenly Father, who gives us so much to delight in, also knows that we learn and grow and become stronger as we face and survive the trials through which we must pass. We know that there are times when we will experience heartbreaking sorrow, when we will grieve, and when we may be tested to our limits. However, such difficulties allow us to change for the better, to rebuild our lives in the way our Heavenly Father teaches us, and to become something different from what we were—better than we were, more understanding than we were, more empathetic than we were, with stronger testimonies than we had before.
"This should be our purpose—to persevere and endure, yes, but also to become more spiritually refined as we make our way through sunshine and sorrow. Were it not for challenges to overcome and problems to solve, we would remain much as we are, with little or no progress toward our goal of eternal life." (President Thomas S. Monson, Ensign, November 2013)
Amidst all the emotions I may have going through me, this principle remains firm:
Faith.
To maintain the honesty that I've always tried to write with, I'll tell you that I'm a mess. The good news is, I could always be worse. So I guess I'm a semi-mess. We're approaching the 8-month mark, and I think the shock has about worn off. So I think my feelings are fine, they're natural, and I'm not going to freak out about them. I know I won't always feel like this. But it has hurt a lot lately.
Remember my description about "me" being a blue sphere? I have more to add to that analogy. I've learned that the painful scoop out of me isn't the only red, aching part. There is a network of red threads that circumference my entire blue-ness, like the elaborate blood vessel system in the body. I can be happy and in pain, all at once. That's messy.
Why does it hurt so bad? Is this what the first year is supposed to be like? Well then, I suppose I'm doing okay. I've heard the second year is worse. But I guess I should explain....it's not just thinking of her being gone that hurts. LIFE hurts. There is a pain always inside, sometimes deep, sometimes just right under the skin. I'll smile, but I hurt. I understand the Plan of Salvation and I am so grateful for it; and I hurt. As President Monson said, "From the bed of pain, from the pillow wet with tears, we are lifted heavenward by that divine assurance and precious promise: “I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.” Such comfort is priceless."
I told Aaron that it's ironic to me that often times (read: not always) the people who go through life and death situations understand a little deeper about the importance of appreciating the moments, of living the days to the fullest, and yet the pain they have to go through is almost in direct opposition to being able to do that. It is a challenge, and one that can bring guilt if you let it. Yet another challenge!
I have been thinking.....
Someday, I want to be happy again.
Oh, I'm "happy" now. There is so much to be grateful and happy about. We laugh with our kids and have joy in our hearts as they are growing up righteously. We love to serve others and bring happiness to them. Life is good.
But the other day I realized that because someone so close and dear and an actual part of me is gone, I could technically go through the rest of my entire mortality thinking that my happiness won't ever be complete here on earth.
And I don't believe that. I don't want to believe that. So I've been thinking about it. The thought that came to me this morning is that someday--years from now, in all honesty--this won't hurt so much. Today I'm using happiness and joy and peace interchangeably. I know there are differences, but it's the big picture I'm talking about.
Originally I thought that someday a little statue of me that is sitting now on the "pain" side of a scale, will one day move over to the other side of the scale where "peace" resides. And then I realized how silly that is. That's just the line graph all over again.
More accurately, my life is represented by a coin. One, solid piece. On one side is pain and sorrow and tears, and on the other side is happiness and joy and peace. But my coin doesn't just lay flat on the table; rather, it's in a perpetual state of motion. Right now, the "pain side" is predominantly on top, and occasionally as it rotates (like it would coming out of a "spin") the sides come up and let a little happiness slip out from underneath.
Someday, the happiness side will be on top and only small amounts of pain will slip out occasionally. But they are both always there.
How long will this process take for the coin to flip over? I don't know. Years, likely. Will it be an easy transition? Likely not. And how does it work, this process of having joy dominate in my life? Only through the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I cannot do it myself. The mortal woman in me would choose to grieve over Abigail indefinitely. But He has so much more planned for me, if I will work with Him. I think this is what He means by bearing our pains (that come from no fault of our own). It's not an immediate event. And for growth purposes, I don't think he takes away *all* the pain. But eventually, He can turn it into joy.
President Henry B. Eyring recently spoke on the miracle of a husband and wife becoming unified. Although I'm not discussing marriage here, the concept spoke volumes to me: "The miracle of becoming one requires the help of heaven, and it takes time."
Miracles require the help of heaven, and take time. Pain turning to joy will be a miracle.
And so I will keep on doing the things that I know I should be doing:
I will keep smiling.
I will keep serving others with full purpose of heart.
I will keep praying and studying my scriptures and fasting.
I will try to sing more.
I will keep working on being ever more grateful, knowing that I can become a better instrument for Him by enduring well.
I will keep serving others. I will try to write less "I"s in my updates, haha.
And I will look forward to the day when the joy is more than the pain, knowing that it will take a miracle and "the help of heaven and time." What a wonderful thing to look forward to!!!!!
"Our Heavenly Father, who gives us so much to delight in, also knows that we learn and grow and become stronger as we face and survive the trials through which we must pass. We know that there are times when we will experience heartbreaking sorrow, when we will grieve, and when we may be tested to our limits. However, such difficulties allow us to change for the better, to rebuild our lives in the way our Heavenly Father teaches us, and to become something different from what we were—better than we were, more understanding than we were, more empathetic than we were, with stronger testimonies than we had before.
"This should be our purpose—to persevere and endure, yes, but also to become more spiritually refined as we make our way through sunshine and sorrow. Were it not for challenges to overcome and problems to solve, we would remain much as we are, with little or no progress toward our goal of eternal life." (President Thomas S. Monson, Ensign, November 2013)
Amidst all the emotions I may have going through me, this principle remains firm:
Faith.
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