It's Okay To Not Be Okay

With all my family and I have been going through the past couple months, a lot of people will ask "How are you guys doing?"

Most of the time my answer is the same. "It depends on the day." Sometimes it depends on the hour. On the minute.

A couple of weeks ago I came home from work exhausted. Work had been fine. I'd enjoyed a good day with good coworkers and customers. But I just felt sad. It was a couple days after the one month anniversary of my dads death. It was also a week after the New Year had been rung in and the festivities died down. Thoughts of how I was going to survive the coming year filled my head. One month had gone by fast in some ways and agonizingly slow in others. And, fast or slow, realizing I'd been one month without my dad sucked.

As I climbed in to bed that night, I pulled out my scriptures and got ready to read. One of my New Year's Resolutions is to read my scriptures every single day in 2017. There's a fancy little sticker chart on my wall dedicated to the effort. And so far, I've done a good job.

But that night, I just wasn't feeling it. I tried to read the scriptures for the upcoming Gospel Doctrine lesson, but the words my eyes were skimming over wouldn't stick. My mind kept wandering back to dad. One month without him. A million months more to go.

Finally, after one verse, I closed my scriptures, curled up in a ball, and placed my head on my pillow. Instead of fighting them, I let myself feel the emotions that were muddling my mind. Ever since I was a child I've learned about God's plan of happiness for His children. And I believe in that plan. My mind knew where dad was, that I would see him again. But the knowledge didn't dim the ache in my heart or stop my thoughts from racing ahead to the future where my dad would be absent. All that he would miss. All that I never got to give him. Getting my first full-time job, buying a house, getting married, having children.

I keep a scripture study journal to record my thoughts and impressions as I read. That night I wrote, "Lord, this is all I have to offer you tonight--a girl who's sad & missing her dad."

Still, I didn't want to give up on my scripture study. I didn't have much to offer the Lord, but maybe he would have something to offer me. So I opened up my scriptures again and continued on reading the suggested verses for Sunday School. These were the verses.

Doctrine & Covenants 93:33

Alma 11:43-44

Doctrine & Covenants 76: 50-70 (But specifically verse 63)

The Spirit filled my heart and quickened my mind as I read these verses. Not only did I understand that what I'd been experiencing was part of Gods plan, but I felt the truthfulness of it. The beauty of it. That last verse, Doctrine & Covenants 76:63, especially struck me. I imagined the Second Coming of the Savior, and envisioned not only my dad, but my Grandma's and Grandpa's as angels sent to herald in that awesome moment.

Suddenly, a specific painting came to mind. One I never really paid attention to or liked all that much,to be honest. But after studying those scriptures, this painting took on a whole new meaning. It meant hope. It meant happiness. It meant a day I could look forward to seeing my dad, perfect and healthy and happy.

This is The Second Coming by Harry Anderson. The next day I bought a copy from work and hung it next to my desk. It's become a reminder to me of the hope the Atonement and the plan of salvation bring. I like to imagine my dad will be one of those blowing the horn, sounding the trumpets to let the world know the Savior's returned.

Here is what I learned that night:

It's okay to not be okay.

That night, I felt sad and broken and lonely. I didn't have any hope or happiness or enthusiasm to give the Lord. No positive quote to post to Facebook or happy thought to tweet out. But as I took a moment to be still and let myself experience my emotions, I felt relief. Then I was able to go on and have an amazing scripture study experience that gave me exactly what I needed.

In this age of social media, when every one shares the best parts of their lives, it's easy to feel that there is something wrong with us when we don't feel happy. We shy away from any negative emotion, sometimes going so far as to pretend they don't exist. We may feel like sadness is a sign we don't have enough faith, or that we have done something wrong. I know I've felt that way on more than one occasion.

But I've come to realize that feeling sad is a part of life. An important part. We can't go through life expecting to enjoy only highs and believing that lows are Gods form of punishment. Pain, regret, sorrow, sadness--all are vital parts of our mortal experience. We don't have to shy away, or close off, or ignore these feelings.

Jesus Christ himself was "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." (Isaiah 53:3) He doesn't expect us to feel "up" all the time by pushing away negative feelings and replacing them with fake optimism or happiness. In fact, ignoring or pushing away the sadness, disappointment, and heartache life will inevitably bring, will limit the Savior's ability to help us. It is an act of faith to let ourselves experience these emotions, trusting that the Lord will fulfill his promise to "succor his people according to their infirmities." (Alma 7:12)

I'll repeat that:

It is an act of faith to let ourselves experience these emotions, trusting that the Lord will fulfill his promise to "succor his people according to their infirmities."

Remember the movie Inside Out and the lesson Riley learns at the end?

Sadness serves a purpose in helping us make it through the difficult times in life.



It's okay to not be okay. It's okay to have moments when you feel broken and tired. I can testify that it is in those moments we truly feel the Lord's love and comfort. It's also in these moments that we grow and become stronger.

Don't run away from the unpleasant moments and feelings in your life. Rather, I hope that in such moments all of us will run to the Savior.

Life Can Change In A Heartbeat

The past month has been hard.

For those who don't know, my dad collapsed on November 28, 2016. We still aren't really sure why. He didn't have a heart attack or a stroke. His heart just stopped. Mom and I did CPR on him while Allison talked to 911. The paramedics arrived & took over CPR. I couldn't watch, so I knelt down in the kitchen and prayed. Eventually, after what felt like forever, they took him to the hospital where they got his heart beating on its own. But he still wasn't breathing by himself, so they put him on a ventilator and admitted him to the ICU.

He spent a week in the ICU with the doctors running all sorts of tests. During that week, it slowly became apparent that my dad wasn't going to wake up. And even if by some miracle he did, he wouldn't have much of a life. He just had too much brain damage from lack of oxygen during CPR. So on December 5, 2016 we made the difficult decision to take him off the ventilator. He passed away quickly and peacefully, which I'm very grateful for.

His funeral was on December 9, a week after his 60th birthday. The funeral was lovely and I felt so much peace and comfort from it. My mom wanted the song Precious Savior, Dear Redeemer sung, so some talented ladies from her ward sang the arrangement I wrote. That was special.

As I look back on the past month or so, I'm not sure what to think or feel. Mostly, it still doesn't feel real. It feels like Dad is just on a long business trip and he will be home soon. Sometimes I come home from work and see his car in the driveway and think, 'Oh, Dad's home!' Other times, I'll be on my computer and someone will walk down the hall and I'll have the fleeting thought, 'It's dad.' I wonder if I'll always have moments like that, even ten or twenty years from now. Part of me hopes I do.

Looking back on the last few weeks before Dad collapsed, I feel grateful for the time we spent together. He was my movie/TV watching buddy and was the only one who I could sometimes convince to watch a Korean drama with me. We went to see Doctor Strange together the day after Thanksgiving. Then one day when I was running out the door to go up to the ICU, I grabbed the jacket I'd worn to the movie and found our two ticket stubs in the pocket. That was a tender mercy. We'd also been watching The Blacklist together on Netflix, and the night he collapsed we'd watched an episode and discussed our theories about the show and what would happen. I still haven't been able to bring myself to watch the next episode and find out if we were right.

But I also look back and feel incredible guilt and regret. The night he collapsed, I was on my computer with my headphones in and didn't want to be disturbed by the world. If I hadn't been so wrapped up in myself, if I'd taken the time to ask how he was feeling, would things have turned out differently? I can't let myself dwell on those thoughts for too long. Things happened the way they happened, and asking "What if" won't change them.

Doing CPR on my dad that night, I just thought, 'This isn't what I imagined I'd be doing tonight.' In life, I think all of us get into our routines: wake up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, watch Netflix, go to bed. Rinse and repeat. There's nothing wrong with this. We're creatures of habit and we like life to be predictable.

But life can change in a heartbeat. For any of us.

However, something I've learned and felt to be truer each day is that these changes are often God's way of shaking us awake, helping us grow and stretch.

One day I stayed home from the ICU while my mom and sister went to visit Dad. I needed some time alone to process and cry and pray and seek comfort. I found a talk by Richard G. Scott called Trust in the Lord and one line struck my heart like lightning.

"Just when all seems to be going right, challenges often come in multiple doses applied simultaneously. When those trials are not consequences of your disobedience, they are evidence that the Lord feels you are prepared to grow more. He therefore gives you experiences that stimulate growth, understanding, and compassion which polish you for your everlasting benefit. To get you from where you are to where He wants you to be requires a lot of stretching, and that generally entails discomfort and pain."

As soon as I read that, I started to sob. The Lord felt I was prepared to grow more, even though I didn't feel prepared at all. But reading that line, I knew the Lord hadn't forgotten me or forsaken me. In fact, I felt more strongly than ever that He had a plan for me. He had faith in my ability to become better through this trial, and that knowledge gave me strength and hope. It still gives me strength and hope.

I know I'm not the only person in the world experiencing sorrow, disappointment, regret, pain . . . Whether those feelings come from the loss of a loved one, loss of a job, loss of faith, or life just not going the way you planned, I think every person reading this can relate to those emotions. But for me, some of the sweetest spiritual experiences of my life have come as I've acknowledged those feelings and taken them to my Heavenly Father and my Savior. They have provided peace and comfort beyond words.

Life can change in a heartbeat. I'm still processing this change in my life and I anticipate many more hard times ahead. But, I want to stay close to the Lord through it all, through every emotion and experience this trial is going to bring.

To whoever may read this, no matter what you may be going through, know that I believe in your ability to grow through the hard times in life. Especially if you turn to the Lord and let Him shape you. He has the ability to turn every sorrow and regret, every pain and disappointment into an experience for our good.

I hope you all have a wonderful 2017! This year I want to blog more and share some of my thoughts. And while those thoughts might not always be cohesive or make sense, I hope they can help someone. I'll write again soon.

-Erin