Background on the poem:
My life has been full of doctor visits and health issues. I have had five open heart surgeries in the nineteen years that I’ve been alive. Just recently I got really sick with the flu — or so I thought. I found out later after a long hospital stay that it wasn’t a flu it was a clot. My heart was sick and it was making my body sicker and sicker. After I had my open heart surgery the found that I had a fungus on the valve they had replaced just two years ago. I have been on anti-fungals and blood thinner medicines since then and it has been a long road. I am still healing and it’s been three months. I am now losing my hair as a result of one of the medications. When I feel I can’t go on, I write about my experiences and put them into poems.

Broken

Broken is a word that has described me my whole life,
My heart,
My bones,
My body,
My life,
My relationships,
All broken,
All the Time!
Healing always healing,
What if I don’t want to heal anymore?
You can’t heal what has too many cracks in it.
I’m damaged goods,
My heart has been mended one too many times,
Only to be shattered into pieces once again,
I want to just stop,
I want to breathe again,
I want to cry,
I want to sob,
I want to scream,
I want to be carried,
My body broken from all the tears and wears of the world,
Her heart is shattered never to be repaired,
Her legs dangle as she is carried,
Carried away from the wreckage called her life,
Her arms are dangling,
Her eyes are streaming with tears,
Her face broken with scars of the past,
Her chest with a long scar of her heart,
A heart that has been repaired one too many times,
Her life is beyond salvaging as it lay far away.

In Doctrine and Covenants section 122 Joseph Smith is in Liberty Jail and asks where the Lord is and how long they will have to suffer. In section 122 the Lord answers him and tells him that “all these things shall give thee experience and shall be for thy good.” I feel I have been thrown a hard curve ball and it has taken me time to see that I have grown. At first I was scared and then I was mad and hurt and then I got sad. At times I felt all those emotions. I look back now and shudder; I wonder how I made it through but now I know that my parents and the Lord did care about me even when I didn’t think they did. I promise you the Lord knows what you’re going through. He may not take it away but that doesn’t mean that He doesn’t love you. I have learned that on this earth life we have to have experiences that allow us to grow. No matter how hard the challenge may be just take comfort in knowing that the Lord will give you nothing that you can’t handle. He knows you better than yourself. Stick with the Lord and He will help you in the most unexpected ways. I know how it feels to think you’ve been abandoned and no one knows how you feel but He does and He’s always there. Even though you don’t feel Him right away or notice what He is doing for you. I promise you if you look back and ponder the events that happened you WILL see His hand in your life and the lives of those around you. This I say in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

See also “Broken Things to Mend“, by Jeffrey R. Holland.

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Have we not been reassured about the fall of one sparrow and that the very hairs of our heads are numbered? (see Matt. 10:29–30; D&C 84:80). God is in the details! (Neal A. Maxwell, “Encircled in the Arms of His Love,” Ensign, Nov. 2002, 16)

During a routine obstetric ultrasound I was told that I needed to be induced immediately to give birth to my fifth child, just two weeks shy of my due date. I was not expecting that. My ultrasound revealed too little amniotic fluid and that the baby could be in danger. Because I knew that ultrasound measurements can be unreliable, I requested to talk to my doctor. I finally saw him a few hours later and asked him to repeat the ultrasound. Again the measurements showed too little amniotic fluid.

I knew I was dehydrated and hungry so I asked to be released to go home and eat, drink some water, pack, and see my kids before being induced. I had a strong desire to go home and be with my children and to call my parents. (I usually only called them on Sundays and this was Monday.) The doctor was okay with that, with the agreement that I would return in two hours to be induced.

I went home with my husband and ate a big dinner, drank lots of water, called and talked to my mom in California and let her know what was going on. My dad was on his way out the door for his daily bike ride and he got on the phone very quickly to wish me luck. I explained to my dad what was happening and that we would be having the baby soon. He said, “Break a leg, Kid! Well, having a baby is a piece of cake for you. You know how to do this!”

Little did I know that was the last time I would ever hear his voice in this life. An hour later on our way to the hospital we discovered that he had had a massive heart attack on his bike ride and had died. He was 49. We rode to the hospital in shock, while I sobbed until I threw up. How was I going to have a baby now?

Our doctors were wonderful and they gave us a private room and left us alone for a few hours until they came in once more to apologize and offer comfort. Then they again said they needed to induce because of the amniotic fluid. I asked again for one more ultrasound. I had been drinking a lot of water to improve my hydration level so I needed another opinion. They did another one and found that my level had gone from a 1 to a 7 in just a few hours of hydration! I was elated and relieved. However, they still suggested induction. (A normal level is about 10 and up.) I requested to stay overnight and be on an I.V. drip and fluids to hydrate me and check again in the morning since the baby’s heart tones were perfectly fine and in no distress at the time. They thought that was reasonable, so I was able to stay overnight.

I received a blessing from my husband and my doctor who promised me that I would have the birth that I desired and that we would all be healthy and that emotionally I would be able to handle this. I was able to finally talk to my mom and cry with her. I couldn’t believe I was preparing for giving birth with my daddy just barely gone. I was grateful for that night to prepare for what lay ahead.

A scripture I had previously read kept coming to my head:

“Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give ye rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me: for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30).

I repeated that over and over in my mind that night, my pillow soaked with my tears.

Unbeknownst to me, earlier that night, my grandmother (my Dad’s mom) had received the news that my dad had had a heart attack. She did not know yet that he had passed away, nor that I was preparing to go to the hospital to have a baby. She and my grandfather knelt down together immediately to pray for him and for our family. As they prayed, my grandmother heard a distinct voice tell her, “Gregg is bringing the baby.” She had no clue what that meant until she found out my dad had died and that the baby was on her way. While we don’t really know the details of how and when the spirit of life enters a baby’s body, I like to think that perhaps the time spent that night waiting it out and preparing was time for my dad to give instruction and counsel, and to send his granddaughter to earth.

The next day my amniotic fluid level was back down to 1 despite my efforts that night. I was induced and gave birth very easily and quickly, though emotionally it was very trying. I could feel my dad there; he was with me. It was one of the most bittersweet moments of my life… intense joy at the life of a new babe all through the sorrow of the death of my father. I reflected on the cycle of life and I was lifted up. My promised blessings came true and I was given peace as I held my newborn baby in my arms.

The Lord is in all the little details of our lives.

– by Stephanie

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As I left the Missionary Training Center (MTC) to enter the missionary experience, I felt a strong sense of certainty that there was in front of me a vast sea of experiences to be had. I was anxious to share the gospel that I had been taught all of my life. With a renewed sense of urgency and confidence in my ability as a servant of the Lord, I embarked on my journey.

The first six weeks of my mission were spent in Sacramento, California. I had been called to Portugal, but was awaiting a visa before I could travel there. I distinctly remember the feelings I had as I arrived in my first area and met my companions. A sort of realization washed over me and I sensed that the days of dreaming about golden investigators, packages from home, and letters from a “waiting” boyfriend were now becoming a reality about which I was very uncertain. The feeling, as I can best describe it, is not unlike the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you are sitting in your seat on a ride at an amusement park and the bar suddenly locks into place.

About six weeks later, in my first area in Portugal, my companion and I walked along the busy streets of Lisbon, contacting people as they passed by. I had only been in Portugal a few days and had found that the Portuguese I had learned in the MTC differed vastly from the language the people were speaking. I felt insecure in my ability to both understand and communicate. I felt ineffective as a missionary as I easily became lost in conversations. As we walked home one rainy night after a particularly frustrating evening, I felt discouraged. I felt lonely and hoped I was not wasting the Lord’s time. I felt very far from my family and friends, far outside of my comfort zone, and afraid that I was not going to be up to this task.

It was in this rainy state of mind, when I heard in my head the words to a hymn:

“Fear not I am with thee, be not afraid for I am thy God and will still give thee aid” (“How Firm a Foundation,” Hymn #85).

That night I looked up the scripture in Isaiah 41:10,13, which reads:

Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.

For I the LORD thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee.”

I was able to derive from these words the hope that I so critically needed. I felt that I did not have to rely only on my ability, but that Heavenly Father was watching over me and would help me. Whenever I hear that hymn I think of that rainy night and feel in my heart a warm confirmation from my Father who believes in me.

– by Alli

(Did you notice that you can listen to an MP3 recording of this hymn? Find more hymns here. You can download MP3s of music as well.)

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You see, our darling old 1922 bungalow had grown a bit shabby at the farthest edges of its trim, all cracked and peeling. Over the course of our precipitously precipitatious Pacific Northwest winter, unfortunately, that can wreak havoc on the wood underneath. The weather forecasts foretold just one week left until the rains set in for the year. It was ‘now or never.’ As every painter in the area was booked solid, we found that the only choices were to risk damage to the wood or repaint it ourselves. Naturally, we chose to take it on, with a little help from the guys at our local hardware store.

We purchased two sets of ‘paint eater’ power sanders, lead-rated respirators, and goggles, and set to work sanding off the old paint. All went well until we started getting to where we had to use just about all 28 feet of the ladder, approaching the ridgeline of the roof. My husband did make it up there one time, and he even did some sanding. When he made his way back down the ladder, though, he was blanched and said that he wouldn’t do it again. “It can’t be that bad,” I thought, as I began a climb up the ladder that ended about two-thirds of the way up, where I froze. I couldn’t go up; I couldn’t go down. My arms felt numb, and I had to consciously convince myself to keep breathing.

There we were, with the trim half-done, sanded to the bare wood, and neither of us feeling able to complete the task. There was a panicked round of phone calls to every house painter in the local phone book, of course to no avail. One of the painters even joked that not only could he not come paint my house, he needed me to come paint a few houses for him. That was it – no help to be had. Not being willing to risk the inevitable water damage, we had to figure something out.

We finally decided that since I weigh little more than half of what my husband does, it made sense for me to be the one to go up the ladder, with him steadying it at the base. The solution made sense, but that didn’t make it easy.

As I stood at the base of the ladder, with the bucket in my hand, I knew that it was time, and I knew that it was up to me to get it done. For all my sense of duty, my knees still felt as if they’d slide right out from under me any moment; my hands again were numb; and my heart was pounding such that I could feel my own pulse all through my body. As my free hand made contact with the cold aluminum of the ladder, a shot of adrenaline coursed through my veins. Fear gripped me.

I began climbing slowly. As my head was clearing the first story of the house, though, I just stopped. The slightest shift of my weight sent the ladder jiggling. I was climbing one-handed, as I had to hold the bucket with the other hand. The wind was blowing at me from the side in a most unnerving fashion. I tried playing various mental games with myself to get moving again. Alas, again, I was frozen in place on the ladder. “I have to do this,” I told myself, and, even still, I could not lift my foot to move it to the next rung.

A conversation that I recently had with a friend suddenly flashed unexpectedly through my mind, and I found myself remembering remarks about how, with the Lord to call on, we really can handle anything with grace, acceptance, and peace. I closed my eyes and simply said “Lord, help me take this next step.” The bonds of fear that had held my foot fast were gone. I went up one rung on the ladder. “Lord, help me take this next step,” I prayed again, up one more. “Lord, help me take this next step,” again and again. Soon, I found myself at the top of the ladder.

Through every step of my task, as I called out to Him, the Lord heard those little prayers and sustained me, holding my fear at bay and steadying me for the work at hand. I was taught again that with the Lord to call on, we truly can handle anything that life gives, be it scary, tragic, urgent, tedious, intense, sorrowful, puzzling, or random; be it a life-changing loss or a moment of minutia like a climb up a ladder, He is there, and He hears us, strengthens us, and sustains us.

-by Naiah

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Our individual experiences may not always be unique, but they are always authentic. God will even take into account our perceptions of, as well as our responses to, our trials. For those of us who do not, for instance, find claustrophobia a challenge, it is difficult to measure the terror that comes to those for whom it is such a challenge. Thus, a friend may seem to struggle unnecessarily long before finally prevailing with regard to a particular principle of the gospel. But for that individual, the struggle was real enough! We need, particularly, to understand with kindness those who are asked to go out to do battle again on a familiar field–on the very battleground where they have already suffered defeat several times. Yet some of our most difficult victories will occur on new terrain–like Joseph’s in Egypt–when we do not have the equivalent of a “home court” advantage.

We must remember that, while the Lord reminded the Prophet Joseph Smith that he had not yet suffered as Job, only the Lord can compare crosses!”

-Neal A. Maxwell, “Taking up the Cross,” Fireside, 4 January 1976 (emphasis in original) (http://speeches.byu.edu/reader/reader.php?id=6139&x=71&y=9)

I love this reminder to be more gentle–not just with others, but also with myself. It’s so easy to be hard on other people when they just don’t seem to “get it” with regard to a certain gospel principle or practice, so it is important to remember that we can never know the full scope of the personal challenges they face. I am really grateful that it is not my job to make those comparisons and judgments–I will gladly leave that to the Lord!

As hard as we are on other people, I think often we are the most critical of ourselves. Honest self-evaluation, with the Lord’s help, is a key piece of repentance and growth, but that self-appraisal should not come at the expense of our own sense of worth and identity as beloved daughters of God–loved beyond measure even in our imperfect state.

Elder Maxwell’s imagery of the battlefield reminds me of another passage I love, from C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity:

Good and evil both increase at compound interest. That is why the little decisions you and I make every day are of such infinite importance. The smallest good act today is the capture of a strategic point from which, a few months later, you may be able to go on to victories you never dreamed of. An apparently trivial indulgence in lust or anger today is the loss of a ridge or railway line or bridgehead from which the enemy may launch an attack otherwise impossible.

I know I don’t always recognize the progress I’m making, so I really like this perspective on how the little things I do can add up to big gospel victories. And in the frustratingly common times I fall short, I’m grateful for repentance, and how the Atonement helps me hold the ground I might otherwise have lost.

——-

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To struggle is the program.

Of course, you can imagine the kinds of conversations that brought on that teaching. Who wants to hear that the pain and struggle they are going through is supposed to be part of life? I sure didn’t. I wanted things to be easier, period. (I would often wonder (and still sometimes do): This is what I signed up for in the premortal world and shouted for joy about?)

In moments of spiritual clarity, however, of course I know he is right. We are here to be tested, to learn from our experiences, to learn faith through the trials that come. Of course, life is also full of rich and wonderful blessings, so it’s not like he was trying to be pessimistic or gloomy. We are that we might have joy, right? But still, sometimes it is in the struggle that we learn to appreciate the joy all the more. I look at my life and really can see blessings that struggling has brought, and I am (usually) grateful for the growth.

Lately, Dad’s words have been distilling on me in a slightly different way, thanks to some discussions with my husband, who has been reflecting on how life is a process, not a bunch of events. How often are we focused on the events in life: the next appointment, the next project, the next piano lesson for the children, the next family scripture time, the next big opportunity, the next stage of life when “all of our troubles will fade”? The list of “things to do” or “things we want” or even the goals we set can sometimes dominate our lives and our thinking. As my husband and I have talked, we have realized, perhaps more profoundly than ever, that it’s possible that a focus on events could also cause us to miss the purpose of life and the opportunity to enjoy and benefit from the journey, and especially to build relationships with God and the people around us.

I think Nephi understood this concept. In 2 Nephi 31, he spends considerable time teaching about the critical nature of baptism, the ordinance necessary to get us into “the strait and narrow path which leads to eternal life” (v. 18). This is an event that is absolutely essential to salvation. And yet, after expounding on the blessings of baptism, Nephi asks an important question:

And now, my beloved brethren, after ye have gotten into this strait and narrow path, I would ask if all is done?

And then, of course, he answers his own question by saying, “Behold, I say unto you, Nay” (v. 19).

The event of baptism is not enough. Indeed, we could plug any important event into this equation. Is all done when we receive the ordinances of the temple? When we married to our spouse? What about the day-to-day events of life and of gospel living? Do we say one prayer and we are done? Do the dishes once and check it off the list forever? Is all ever done? Sometimes that very fact that be exhausting! There is always another meal to cook, another weed to pull, another paycheck to be earned, another church meeting to attend. Clearly, the purpose of life is not really to “be done”!

Nephi teaches us what our lives should be about in verses 20 and 21:

Wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men. Wherefore, if ye shall press forward, feasting upon the word of Christ, and endure to the end, behold, thus saith the Father: Ye shall have eternal life.

And now, behold, my beloved brethren, this is the way; and there is none other way….

No event, whether temporal or spiritual, will ever render our work “done.” No goal accomplished is ever sufficient to get us Home. We are here to struggle — not only to struggle in the sense of struggling through pain and trials, but to work hard and to work tirelessly and to work consistently. In short, nothing short of steadfastly enduring to the end (with faith, hope and charity along the way) will be enough to accomplish our work on earth.

Dad’s teaching has taken on a new light for me. Heavenly Father sent us here to learn the process of Christlike living and being. No event alone can make that happen, no matter how grand the event may be. It’s in the struggle, in the striving, in the pressing forward, in the enduring (in both spiritual and temporal elements of our lives), that the Lord can mold and shape and change us. The ordinances and commandments, as well as our day-to-day to-do lists, are only steps in the process, means to a potentially glorious end. The growth God desires for us comes in the struggle to make the most of every day, to repent when we make mistakes, and to build relationships with God and with our families that can take us into eternity.

I am convinced that this is part of why we hear so much about the importance of family life in the Church — because the consistent, repetitive work and the process of growth is so important in those family relationships. In fact, a quote from a talk by Elder Dallin H. Oaks comes to mind even as I write that:

Now is the time for each of us to work toward…becoming what our Heavenly Father desires us to become. As we do so, we should remember that our family relationships…are the setting in which the most important part of that development can occur…. Exaltation [eternal life] is an eternal family experience, and it is our mortal family experiences that are best suited to prepare us for it.

To struggle is the program. More than ever before, Dad, I believe you are right. But that concept is exciting me more than ever because it has taken on new meaning. Life is a process and it’s through continual effort and focus that I can continue to grow closer to God.

-Michelle L.

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