9/1/10

Did not intend this to be a "Sermon" to Shannon, but, hey . . .

(I tried to write this as a comment to your post, but it got too long and wouldn't post.)

What a doll she is. And, hey, you can't write a conclusion because there isn't one, nor will there ever be. You now have another life attached to yours--forever. Sounds overwhelming? It is. But, it gets better . . . then worse . . . then better. I promise. Don't long for things to be good and well--a trap we all fall into. Earth life never reaches plateaus of pure happiness and peace. It keeps moving. But, you learn to adore every good day or moment and set your teeth tight against the bad. And, we keep walking. Only now lucky you have more company. The more your family grows, the more you have great spirits around you to comfort and heal you throughout all eternity. After, you have children you are never alone again (literally, in the first years). It's a wonderful feeling.
But, Shannon, I so relate to the physical agony of setting dreams aside for a while. That can even seem like the physical tearing of muscle. One time when I was having trouble with this, I got an interesting answer to prayer. It's sacred, but I'm going to tell you anyway, since I never see you anymore.
I was teaching full time while raising six kids and a "husband." Between lesson plans, grocery shopping, potty training, etc. plus dealing with an energy sucking illness, I often felt like I couldn't breathe because I had no time for myself. But, you have to treasure your own dreams, no matter how you squeeze them in. Figure out a plan because the dreams feed you. Me? After Jim fell asleep, I’d often sneak out the window and sit on the roof to write--small moments of pure flashlight delight. Yet, this stopped also after the kids became teenagers because they came home around midnight and took away even that small amount of space. I felt like pieces of me were flying out to everyone else leaving me shredded, with nothing of Me. Does that make sense? But, in prayer one night, a soft answer came. The Spirit said, "You will be compensated; you will not lose any good desire of your heart. This is what eternity is for." I was amazed and thrilled as that vision opened up, But, then horror set in as I saw what kind of patience this would take to wait, maybe even until the next life, for some dreams to unfold-- especially since "patience is not a strong suit of mine (or yours). Yet, think of it: To be a goddess, we HAVE to have patience even as great as Heavenly Father’s. What a plan. What a way to let us practice patience until it’s really a part of our character. I think the Lord is brilliant (ha, obviously). This path we walk is bigger than we can imagine. I love you. You’re strong. And whatever you can’t do, Heavenly Father can. (I feel like I should say Amen, and I remember promising never to give advice again. Ha. Sure.)

1 comment:

Shani said...

Thank you. Writing my post helped me face what I was feeling, and I've done better since, but your words are very timely and extremely comforting. A priesthood blessing from my husband also helped, as usual. Thank you for sharing your experience. Eternity has new meaning to me now that I have a child. A child who I need to bring to meet you...