Where Was God?

I remember sitting down in the chapel. I hadn't really wanted to come. I felt like I didn't fit in with anyone anymore. I felt awkward being around women my age again. Probably because many of them knew what happened, but there were also many who didn't know what happened. During those early days I was ALWAYS left wondering who knew about Alma and who didn't. Who knew I had lost my baby?

It was a struggle because most of the time I talked to people I knew who knew, I would get the sympathetic looks but no mention of Alma. The subject of him would be taboo - the elephant in the room per-say. But then when I talked to others who didn't know, I'd wait in dreaded anticipation for the question, "Do you have any kids?" It hurt every single time to get asked that, no matter how innocent it was. Being in a group of pregnant women was difficult, too, because my birth story didn't have a happy ending. It became emotionally exhausting talking to people, so that night in the chapel, I didn't really want to talk at all.

During the weeks that followed Alma's passing, there were times when I felt so much love around me. I felt it through the letters and packages and quotes we received daily in the mail. I felt it through priesthood blessings given to me by wonderful men at work, by my bishop, by my husband, and by my dad. I felt it through my doctors who knew what I had gone through. I felt it through a visit from the stake presidency. I felt it through the woman I visit taught. I felt it through a general authority who spoke with me and gave me encouragement through stories from his ancestors. I felt it through the women I worked with. And yes, I felt it through God.

All that being said, it was still a very dark time in my life. Looking back, I can still feel the weight and heaviness of the darkness around me and inside my very soul. I can feel the grief that occupied my mind and my heart almost every minute of every single day. I can feel the tightness in my chest, the infinite pit in my stomach, and the tears burning on the surface of my eyes. I can feel my heart harden and ache and fill with jealousy at other parents' happiness. And I can feel the frustration, anger, and bitterness overwhelm my entire body as I listened to them complaining about their children.

I remember many Sundays not wanting to go to church. I would get up, take a shower, get dressed, and then lay back down in bed, pull up the covers, and tell Jayze to go without me. I couldn't face the babies. I couldn't face the pregnant women. I couldn't face the happy parents. I couldn't face faking my happiness. I felt crushed and broken and oh so alone. There were days I felt far from God, even though I felt like I was trying with all I had to hold onto my testimony and my faith.

So, there I was, trying again. I had halfheartedly thrown on a skirt and driven to the church for the pre-conference get-together that involved chatting and eating veggies and dip. When the half hour was up, we all congregated in the chapel to watch the October 2013 General Relief Society Meeting. I sat by my friend and waited for the talks to begin.

I had brought a journal with me to write different impressions that came, but it wasn't until President Monson got up to speak that I remember really paying attention.

"There will be times when you will walk a path strewn with thorns and marked by struggle. There may be times when you feel detached - even isolated - from the Giver of every good gift. You worry that you walk alone. Fear replaces faith." 

It was as if God were talking straight to me. He knew how I felt! I sat up a little straighter and listened a little harder.

He told the story of a woman named Tiffany. Her husband was in medical school and many of the responsibilities of taking care of their four children fell to her. Right as she was feeling overwhelmed, she learned that one of her loved ones was diagnosed with cancer. She felt stressed and worried and became discouraged and depressed. She lost her appetite. She lost weight. She tried hard to connect with God through scriptures and prayer, but when no peace came, she felt He had abandoned her.

When a good friend was trying to get her to eat to no avail, Tiffany said the only thing that sounded good to her was homemade bread...but there wasn't any in the house. The next day, a woman they barely knew through Tiffany's sister dropped off a loaf of homemade bread. Tiffany later learned that the woman, Sherrie, had felt prompted to make two loaves of homemade bread that day. Later that same day, Sherrie felt prompted to deliver the extra loaf to Tiffany and despite feeling awkward, followed through with it. The Lord had responded to the prayers said in Tiffany's behalf.

As I listened to the story in the chapel that night, I could feel Tiffany's pain. After Alma, I lost a lot of weight through running and not eating very much. I ran to help me bear the pain of losing my son, but the stress and grief also caused me to lose my appetite. And like Tiffany, I too had been the recipient of someone else's service because they listened to the Spirit. In fact, I had been the recipient of many people's service, as well as the recipient of other tender mercies.

There was that one time when, even though I felt like we didn't really need it because we didn't have a baby at home to care for, the Relief Society sisters brought us dinner for a whole week after we had returned home from Alma's funeral.

As President Monson told the end of the story, I remembered other things...

A sweet embrace from a dear co-worker.
A random quote someone stuck on my front door after a long day at school.
Many visits with a caring bishop.
Special moments with Jayze and Alma.
Invitations to dinner.
Game nights with friends.
Facebook messages I took forever to respond to because I wasn't quite ready yet.

And as the weeks went by, other tender mercies popped up...

BYU-Idaho devotional talks given with Jayze and me in mind.
Other devotional talks with prompted add-ins I felt were meant just for me.
Meeting an apostle of Jesus Christ.
Other conference talks from the October 2013 General Conference.
Songs on Pandora and on the radio.
Blog posts written by others who lost their child (or children), too.

Looking back, I can see that God was in all of these moments and working through all of these people. He was there! I just had to look for Him, and I would find Him.

Lately I've been feeling distant from God again. Before moving to Wichita, I told God, "I'll go wherever you want me to go. Please, just lead us. Please guide us to where thou wants us to go. We're stuck. We don't have a job. We're about to have a baby. I want to serve thee. Please, don't leave us alone."

And he didn't. I can look back at our move from Rexburg to Michigan to Wichita and see God's hand in all of it. He didn't leave us alone. But once we got to Wichita, I began feeling that lonely feeling yet again, especially during these past few weeks.

Where was God?

I was doing everything right. I was getting up with the kids. I was cleaning, organizing, and de-junking our new apartment trying to make it into a home. I was reading my scriptures. I was trying to stay within our new budget. I was trying to support Jayze in his new job and not complain about not having the car during the day. I was trying to get used to a city I had never heard of before it became an option to move there. I was called as a counselor in the Young Women's. I was exercising and eating healthy.

Yet, with all of these things, I still felt anxious, stressed, lonely, and overwhelmed. I wasn't measuring up. I wasn't perfect.

I felt like I wasn't enough.

All of the changes our family went through last year were catching up to me. We had been going, going, going since April. Jayze graduated, we had Kimball, Jayze got the job, we moved to a hotel, we moved to Wichita, and then...back to real, real life. Real, let's slow things down a little bit life. It slowed down enough that the realization came that we wouldn't see our families as often. The realization that I loved living in Michigan and missed it, even though we had only been there for 10 weeks. The realization that we wouldn't be moving again for awhile; we were here and starting afresh for real.

It was like whiplash leaving our long-time friends in Rexburg, making new friends in Michigan, leaving our new friends in Michigan, and starting all over again from total scratch in Wichita. New apartment, new city, new ward, new time zone, new job...new everything, except for the decorations on our walls - y'know. It was exciting and thrilling and sad and exhausting all at once. Jayze loved Wichita right away, while I took more time. I don't know why, but it didn't click for me. And through it all, I felt that, even though I was putting forth a ton of effort, I had lost my constant connection with God...again.

Where was He?

I've learned since our first day here at the end of August that again, it's all about God's timing. I don't know why Alma had to go back to Him sooner than I wanted him to. I don't know why we're in Wichita. But both of them have had to take time.

It seems like God keeps telling me, "Trust in me. Have peace in me. I haven't left you. Don't leave me. I haven't given up on you...don't give up on me. You're right where you need to be. I know you don't know why, but it's all going to be okay. Hold onto me, and I'll lead you and guide you. Don't be afraid. Place your faith in me, not in man. I will lead you along."

I'm continually learning that some things take time. I was thinking the other day how in just a few months' time, I can get around the city without a GPS. I'm more comfortable asking people questions about where to go and where to avoid. I'm getting better and more efficient with leaving the house with the kids. I'm making friends and learning that people really do care.

In short, I'm not alone, and Heavenly Father is sending me all of these tender mercies to remind me of that.

There are going to be days that are just downright lousy. There are going to be times when you wonder, "Where is God? Why is life so hard? Why am I going through this? Is it ever going to get better?"

A few days ago, a quote I posted awhile ago by Boyd K. Packer kept coming to mind:

"It was meant to be that life would be a challenge. To suffer some anxiety, some depression, some disappointment, even some failure is normal. Teach our members that if they have a good, miserable day once in a while, or several in a row, to stand steady and face them. Things will straighten out. There is great purpose in our struggle in life."

So don't give up on God, because He for sure is not giving up on you. He cheers for you. He cries with you. He loves you. You are His child, and He will never forget you. Trust in Him and have faith that you'll get through because God IS there.

"As we seek our Heavenly Father through fervent, sincere prayer and earnest, dedicated scripture study, our testimonies will become strong and deeply rooted. We will know of God's love for us. We will understand that we do not ever walk alone. I promise you that you will one day stand aside and look at your difficult times, and you will realize that He was always there beside you."

~ Thomas S. Monson ~

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