"Blessed Are They That Mourn"

I'm so sorry for the long absence.  I know that it is death to a blog when you let it laps for that long, but hopefully you can find it in your hearts to forgive me. Things got hard, and when things get hard I tend to "run" and retract inside myself.  I'm sure that's pretty normal, but to my thinking, not healthy.  I'm working on that.

I guess it would be appropriate to update you on my situation.  I am in Logan.  Just before moving down here, I was able to go to my last Doctor's appointment in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho with my good friend Sheila, and afterward we went to the temple in Spokane, Washington (these events may have occurred the other way around, but that is not what is important here, focus).  It was a wonderful day spent with my friend, and also so full of emotion.  The fact that I was leaving this beautiful place full of so many friends who had become my family was starting to sink in and weigh heavily on my soul.  My time in Moscow had been a time of healing, and much growth.  I was able to feel safe and at peace for the first time in my life.  I felt safe in the arms of my Savior in Moscow.  Don't get me wrong, it wasn't all sunshine and roses in Moscow.  There were a lot of trials, and learning experiences, and some pretty dark times to go through, but it is the place that I learned to find peace admits the storm.

It was in the temple during this trip with Sheila, where The Lord told me "it is going to be hard," referring to my move down here to Logan.  I thought, "Hey, I've been through hard before.  Living two years with a broken back isn't exactly a piece of cake".  I just knew I could handle it, no matter what the trial.

Upon reflection of the events from then to now, I think this has been the most traumatic experience I have ever been through.  I know that sounds a bit dramatic, but I think I can honestly say that.  The drive down here was nothing short of a nightmare, made worse by the fact that I was all alone in a one-ton truck piled high with all of my earthly possessions and my poor terrified cats in the cab of the truck with me huddled under blankets for safety (the pet carrier I had ended up being too big and a safety hazard, so I had to ditch it).  There were times I wished I could just pull over to the side of the road and just quit.  Just give up.  It was too hard.

As I think about it, I don't think there has been a week that has gone by that I haven't had similar thoughts, figuratively of course.

Alas, I am here in Logan now, and at least my physical safety is no longer begin threatened. Only my emotional and spiritual sanity are being threatened.  I have been looking for a job for a steady two months now with no luck, and until about two weeks ago, I felt like the heaven's had sealed themselves closed and I was not receiving any guidance.

Now that you have a small glimpse into the trauma of this time in my life, let me share with you the things I have learned.

It is not a good idea to "run" when things get tough, and the heaven's only close when you stop listening to them and start leaning on your own understanding. I had built this move up in my mind to be much more like a Hollywood movie with a few slapstick moments of tension just to make the story good, but ultimately, things would end up perfect and life would be amazing.  However, when things started out with my life being in danger for 17 hours straight, I started to understand just how hard things were going to be.  That's not even counting the emotional trauma of leaving a place and people that I loved so dearly and did not want to let go of during the week of packing up my house prior to this drive from hell.  When I saw that this was the prelude to my time here in Logan, I thought, "Forget that," and I retreated inside myself, at times not even answering the phone when friends and loved ones would call to offer support and love.  It was a miserable decent into depression.  The thing that snapped me out of it was when a wonderful friend, in the most loving way you can possibly say this, told me I was being narcissistic, and that it was creating a cancer in out relationship.

She was absolutely right.  What an incredibly selfish thing to do!  As I looked further into this behavior of mine, I looked into places from which I could have learned it.  I talked to both of my parents because I noticed they do the same types of things when things get hard for them.  I prayed, I fasted, and I came to realize that I was turning my back on everything that could, and would get me out of the pain I was suppressing so skillfully.  I wasn't allowing myself to feel.  I wasn't acknowledging the pain and disappointment, and fear I was feeling.

The Savior said, "Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted".  As I read that, and pondered it, I came to understand that it wasn't just a suggestion, but a commandment, if we are to be His disciples. Plus, what an amazing blessing, that every time we mourn, we will be comforted.  I wasn't doing this, therefore, I was not being comforted.  I was not allowing myself to feel my feelings, which is an extremely selfish thing to do.  The Gospel is not selfish.  If we do not allow the Savior to comfort us, we are not blessed.

As a result of my running and not allowing myself to be comforted, the heaven's closed.  There is no point in talking to someone who is not listening, and as much as I thought I was listening, I was not.  I was "listening" for things I wanted to hear, not what I needed to hear, not for truth and the things that would actually help me, I was listening for a voice that would magically make all the struggle and straining and hard times go away.  But, here is the thing, nothing grows without struggle, strain, and at times having a hard time of it.  A really good analogy my good friend told me (same one who told me I was being narcissistic, I know, she is amazing isn't she?), is that of a plant, any plant, in order to reach the sun and really begin to grow at exponential rates, it has to push through a hole lot of dirt, and it has to break through the soil at the very top.  Even then, it still has a little bit of soil on its head it has to shake off.

I think I may have broken through the top.  I have started listening to the Holy Spirit again, and not just selectively.  I am not perfect at it yet, by any means, but I am striving to listen and act on each promoting.  I am trying to be exactly obedient, and not lean on my own understanding.  Mostly I am mourning, and absolutely, I am being comforted.  I think I still have some soil to shake off, but I am no longer afraid of the dirt.