Guest post submitted anonymously.
It had been a difficult few months. Ok, it had been a difficult few years. I had a challenging responsibility at church that I thought I was never going to be released from and a busy husband who was not home much. A 5th baby had joined our family, a boy, whose next oldest sibling had yet to turn two. I was exhausted and worn out and felt like the load I was carrying was almost too much to bear.
Feeling stretched almost to the point of snapping, I asked my husband after he came home late one night for a priesthood blessing. “A blessing given by a Melchizedek Priesthood holder, by the laying on of hands and by inspiration.” I needed some support, some counsel, some divine refueling to keep going. The blessing that night was… nice. As in: “What?! I wasn’t told anything! No help or barely an acknowledgement that I am drowning here!”. It seemed like just some nice words that felt almost empty. It was probably more than that but it was not what I was hoping and expecting. Needless to say, I was disappointed. I didn’t know what else to do but just keep plowing forward.
It was summer-time, and the kids were out of school. The days were full but it was a change of pace from the regular routine of packing lunches, making it to the bus stop on time, homework after school, etc. The older kids were enrolled in soccer day camp that took place at a city park. I had tried to put the blessing, or the disappointment of it, out of my mind and just move forward. Breakfast was over and it was time to head to the park. I was pleased with myself that at least this morning, things were running smoothly and we were going to make it on time, perhaps even a few minutes early. Until… it was time to put on socks, shin guards and shoes.
Everyone had what they needed but Lucas*. He was missing a shin guard. They were required to wear them in order to play. We began the search looking under the beds, the couches, the car. We went all throughout the house and could not find it. I thought this might be a great teaching opportunity for my son. God answers prayers, he cares about us, and even though I felt a little shaky on that particular principle at the moment, I knew he loved my son. He “hears and answers every child’s prayer.” right?
We talked about it for a moment, about the faith to believe, about Heavenly Father’s desire to guide, direct, and bless us and how He hears and answers us. And then we said a prayer. I hoped my faith wasn’t too weak to somehow interfere with my sweet little boy’s request for help. We prayed and then we looked again. We looked and looked and looked everywhere. Now the time was very short. So much for being early. We looked some more and I kept waiting for Lucas to get an idea, a prompting of where to search. Nothing. The stress and frustration were growing as the minutes kept passing. Finally time was up and we had to go. I quickly cut out the shape of a shin guard from a piece of cardboard and stuck it in Lucas’ sock for a substitute that I hoped would pass. He had to have it.
The stress and frustration were turning into anger. We jumped in the car andgot to park, late. I kissed my older kids goodbye and wished them a fun morning and got back into the car with the youngest two to head back to the house. And I was MAD. What had just happened?! Why could we not find that stupid shin guard?! WHY had the Lord not answered my innocent son’s prayer??? The anger, frustration, hurt and disappointment were now spilling over in hot bitter tears down my face. Never in my life had I felt angry at God but I felt it then! The thoughts in my head cried out at a God that I wasn’t even sure was listening. “Why, Heavenly Father, why?! You don’t want to listen to me, you don’t want to answer or acknowledge me FINE! But HOW could you do this to my son?! Why would you NOT answer him?!” I sobbed and sobbed the whole way home. I was confused and heartbroken, and I was furious!
As I stewed in my misery and rage another thought came to mind. I remembered another struggling parent from the scriptures; exhausted and weary with a heavy load, a calling that led him to leave his home and friends and take his family into the wilderness and now, with a broken bow, they were about to starve. He too murmured against a God who he felt had abandoned him. Perhaps he too thought “Do whatever you want with me, but why would you do this to my children?!” I bet at that moment he was mad too! And at that moment in time he didn’t know how the rest of the story would go… but I did.
I walked into the house and with all the faith I could muster, still crying, and I dropped to my knees and changed my prayer of bitterness and anger, to humility and praise. I acknowledged that HE really did know what was best. Even if it didn’t make sense and I didn’t know how the story would go. I thanked Him and praised Him and acknowledged that He had a plan and He knew what would be best and I chose to trust Him. I humbly accepted His will, whatever it would be for me, since this was really about me. I opened my eyes, I stood up and walked down the hall hardly even thinking about where I was going. I opened the door to the linen closet and reached my hand to the very back corner of the closet (the whole time having no idea what I was doing). I reached back in and grabbed the shin guard. The Velcro from the shin guard had stuck to a blanket that had been folded up and put away.
A whole new set of sobbing tears now. An entirely new and deep feeling of utter humility. My prayers (do you call them that?) of bitterness and anger that had then changed to acceptance and praise were now prayers of deep gratitude. And also of an apology. I pleaded for forgiveness for not trusting Him and most especially for being mad at Him. And then the gentlest sweetest feeling of an arm around my shoulder, of a parent comforting a child, I felt a response as if He said “I know. I know this is hard and I am sorry. I know.”
The whole experience years ago has changed me and has continued to carry me. It has been profound. I have thought many times of that day, of that time in my life, of that answer to prayer. And it has come back to me again. I did not get the guiding hand I had wanted in seeking a blessing that night, and things honestly did not get easier. But I knew that God knew. He knows it hurts and He knows the answers, the outcome, too. When I have had doubts or questions, difficult doctrine or troubling experiences that sometimes don’t have answers right now; the memory has come back, I have felt it again. “I know. I know this is hard and I am sorry. I know.” I realized that I had to go through all of that, not just receiving a disappointing priesthood blessing of little comfort, or losing the shin guard, but ALL of it, the weight and the stress and all the hard things during that time to get to that experience and that answer on that day. It’s an answer that I have needed again and again. I couldn’t have learned it any other way. It was worth it.
Every day I get to choose, to trust God and His plan and His timing, to acknowledge that He is in charge and He KNOWS even when I do not. I get to choose to accept Him and His will every day.
Because He knows.
*name has been changed
