When sore trials came upon you,
Did you think to pray?
When your soul was bowed in sorrow,
Balm of Gilead did you borrow
At the gates of day?
“Did You Think to Pray?” is a lovely hymn, and, like most hymns, its message is more powerful than its simple words. You may recall my earlier nod to “Abide With Me”:
Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day
From that song I gained hope amid my trials by changing my view. I am not living my life so much as this is “life’s little day,” and it is important, but it is only a small part of the Eternal Being I am.
In the three and a half years we lived in our previous home, I absolutely loved doing the laundry. I know that sounds weird, but it’s true. First, I had a to-die-for laundry room. Secondly, there is something so satisfying about taking dirty laundry and transforming it into clean, sweet-smelling clothing and linens. Perhaps it was the service I rendered to my family as I washed and dried their clothes, folding them or hanging them, knowing whose were whose (okay, with 5 daughters, that’s not always an easy task). I had stored in my head the knowledge of whose clothes needed to be pretreated, whose clothes needed to be hung to dry, whose clothes needed to be washed in cold water. Who needed a work uniform for the next day. Being able to keep that one. small. thing. in order was really big. My entire life was swirling around me, but the laundry was the eye of that storm. In the laundry room I could find peace to work. The secret was, who else would dare to enter that domain? Because, as they quickly discovered, it was pretty likely they would find a job as their reward..:D
But because folding laundry is a mostly mindless task, I could get a lot of thinking done as I folded. Smoothing out my son’s jeans as I put them on a hanger (he had a huge closet and no dresser at the time) accompanied the internal…silent….arguments I had with those who had hurt me that day or that week or that month. Prayers were uttered…again, silently….and then they would be answered, either in the laundry room or in the course of my day. Driving to work later in the day, I would see a heart-stopping sight that gave me pause and a reminder that life is not random. I would overhear one child offer a kind word or a helping hand to another, and once I picked myself up off the floor, I would feel a flood of peace and happiness that that one moment was perfect. Perhaps if I gathered all those moments together, they would fill my hand…or hands….
Ah, then we moved. I still love our new house. Despite its weak points, it has a warmth (except in the basement, where the windows are not double-paned) and an air of home and peace. Yesterday morning we were ready early for church, and the four of us who were going found ourselves sitting together in the living room and remarking what a great FHE place it will be. The kitchen gets a little more organized every chance I get. It’s even more enjoyable to cook there. I think the light in the room really adds to that. Last night we gathered in the basement family room to watch the Super Bowl, the five of us. Darryl started a fire in the woodstove with the little bit of wood we had left. The downstairs TV isn’t the best, but the company and the ambience sure were. We had a fun time together. Yeah, really, watching football was FUN.
Scott and Kristi love to climb on our bed with us and watch TV. Scott regularly tries to “PWN” his dad. And he likes to trash talk like he’s some sort of force to be reckoned with. And he comes back for more later. Sweet little moments of happiness that melt in my heart. Kristi is our little ninja who is a good soul in that 11 y/o body.
Our lesson in Relief Society yesterday was about the connection between faith, hope, and love (charity). Like a three-legged stool, we need all three legs to be able to sit. Most of the lesson was about hope, and I heard something profound enough…not a new concept by any means, but profound….to want to write it down so I won’t forget.
We all know that Satan is the Father of Lies. He seems to especially take delight in taking the truths we have in our lives and twist them just enough to make them the worst kind of lie. One of his tools is despair, which is literally the lack of hope. He takes the promises that the Lord has made us, and when we wonder why those promises are not being kept in OUR way and in OUR time frame, he prods us with thoughts like, “You’re not really good enough to receive those blessings.” “It’s YOUR fault that you’ve been rejected by God.” And when we lose hope, we lose our faith. And we lose our ability to love and to serve others. And then what promise do we have?
I still believe in the eternal nature of the family. I long for the day when our family will be together again; hopefully in this life, but most assuredly in the next. Satan loves to prod me and say, “Why would you WANT to be with your family forever?” “What if it’s not really true, and all you’ve worked for your whole measly life has been a fraud and a waste?”
Almost every day I face a problem I feel unable to overcome. A lifetime of wanting everybody to like me yet seeing many turn away has left me not only aware of the great fraud I am foisting on others (like I am an adult who can handle adult problems) but afraid to face those problems head on and wade through them, not around them, in order to resolve them.
The great fraud, you ask? The one that led me to believe that once I became an adult, I would have the wisdom to know the answers. At least most of the time. But instead of knowing the answers, I just skulk about, hoping to avoid stirring up trouble. Maybe buying myself a few more minutes of “peace.”
So…I need to reconsider the Balm of Gilead I seek. It seems I find mine at Wal*Mart in the laundry supplies aisle. With a working washer and dryer and enough laundry detergent and fabric softener, I can work out the problems of the laundry. At least with THAT I can be successful most of the time. For the other, well, I suppose it’s true what I’ve been told. I need to seek the Balm of Gilead that can only be found by searching on my knees. Because this cheap stuff just isn’t the same.
In case there is a way for cyberspace to communicate to those I love, I want to take a moment to express my love and gratitude for them. Just as I am multi-faceted (as is my husband), I know they all are, as well.
I am grateful for one daughter who found the love of her life and is raising a little family filled with love. I would give much to have been able to start my adult life that way. It never occurred to me a single second that I wouldn’t have that blessing, so I hope she doesn’t ever take it for granted. I am grateful that I have those two precious grandchildren, because they are in my thoughts every single day. One day I will be able to BE their grandma, and I look to that day with joy and longing.
I am grateful for another daughter who has faced her share (and maybe others’ shares) of struggle and challenge but who has found satisfaction in being able to advance in her career. I know that she has a good work ethic, perhaps different than mine, but I still recognize a small piece of me in who she has become. I hope that she is able to find peace in her soul so that she can not only succeed in life but that she can truly be happy.
I have two other daughters who aren’t with me right now, and who knows whether that is a breach that will be repaired or whether it will separate us even further? I see strengths and weakness in each of them, but they are very young and have a lot of life to live. I hope that the good in them will surpass what is less desirable and that they will allow the Spirit to work in them so that they can recognize the value in everyone.
At home I have an adult son who struggles with ADHD and with finding people who are willing to accept him. Those who see through eyes of love accept him and embrace who he IS, not who people think he should be. He is getting ready to embark on a new opportunity, and we are so proud and grateful. We have hope that his abilities and skills will allow him to shine and truly progress beyond where he has come so far in his life. I pray every day that he will be touched by the Spirit, as well, enabling him to see how much his Father in Heaven loves him.
My two little ones I’ve already spoken about. They haven’t abandoned us, nor do I imagine they will as they grow up, because that doesn’t seem to be a part of their makeup. I don’t know the answers to all the problems that crop up, but I do know that there is something different here. Something worth watching.
I can remember how much I loved getting together for extended family events. We lived close to my parents for about ten years, and I really enjoyed Sunday dinners and family celebrations. I can’t express just how much I miss that time in my life. Of course, part of the reason I miss it so much is the fact that my dad was alive then. But being part of family was my Balm of Gilead then.
I’m not part of that anymore. Let’s be honest, very little of that has to do with being 3,000 miles away from everyone else. Some rifts are created by physical distance. But I remember knowing that I was with my people and that I was allowed to be there. I may have been judged, but I don’t remember that being the biggest part of it.
I recently caught up with someone I knew when I was in high school. She was married and had two children. According to the world’s standards, I can’t imagine many people would have envied her. They didn’t have much money, and they were the kind of people most of us easily dismiss. But there was that one thing that they had that most of us wish we had. They were happy. They loved each other. They still love each other. And I have a hunch that they couldn’t care less about the trappings of life that other people think are MUST HAVES in order to be happy. I’ve seen that on occasion in my job. I have seen family members who have experienced the loss of one of their own pull together to support and love one another. Nothing about who they are or what interests them as individuals speaks to my interests, but they have that one elusive thing: They all love each other, through thick and thin, despite family quarrels. When trouble comes, they don’t point fingers at one another and pull families apart; they simply help each other. Because THAT is what family does.
So I renew my determination that I will not think of it as talking to myself, but I will seek my true Balm of Gilead by pouring out my heart to my Heavenly Father and letting him take over. I have a hunch he has the wisdom I find so elusive. And then some.
