We live in a turbulent time. The news is filled with stories of destruction and dismay. There have been a plethora of natural disasters, political upheavals, acts of violence, and a plaguing illness that has swept the globe. In short, we are in latter-day mode. Through it all, our prophet has counseled us on how to survive the trials of this day. If we will heed his direction, we will be able to push through the days ahead and thrive as best we can.
In my own life, it seems as though I have been hit from every direction. We have lost loved ones, we have faced numerous changes in circumstances, and physical, spiritual, and emotional challenges have surfaced in our own lives, and the lives of those we care about. There are days when it seems as though the only way to move forward is through overwhelming obstacles. Those are the days when I sometimes sit on the uphill path and ponder how to accomplish this seemingly impossible task. I know it’s important to move forward, and yet, I fear what lies ahead. And as daunting pain penetrates the very core of my being, it is tempting to curl up in a ball and whimper that it’s all too much.
But, there is another part of myself that refuses to give up. It is that inner moxie that propels me to my feet to begin the process of moving forward despite the arduous course ahead. I suspect it is a trait that has been passed down through the generations from those who have gone before, paving the way before me during other challenging eras.
Years ago, when my father passed away under horrific circumstances, it also appeared to be a time when all was lost. It was like an explosion had gone off in our lives, and yet, somehow, we were expected to continue on. There were decisions to make—difficult paths to consider, and limited resources to make it all happen. We felt abandoned, fearful, and overwhelmed by sorrow. Our hearts were shattered and we were learning to take life one minute at a time. We bowed our heads under the weight of it all, and felt surrounded by a peaceful love that is impossible to put into words. We began to see miracles take place we couldn’t explain, but as they occurred, we began to see and understand that we were not as alone as we thought we were.
Some of those miracles are too sacred to share—but they were vital as we learned to lean on heaven’s guidance for survival. And slowly, bit by bit, things fell into place. We were able to move my mother and siblings into a safe haven in a different state as important healing began to take place. Doors opened that had been firmly shut—one example: my brother was able to serve a mission through a generous donation from friends of my father. Another example: an insurance policy that was unaffected by my father’s suicide surfaced and provided the means for my family to move to a college town where everyone was able to gain an important education. And bit by bit, our lives were pieced back together. It was in a different fashion than what we had anticipated, but looking back, we can see the wisdom of all that transpired.
I was the oldest, already married, and my husband and I had welcomed a son into our lives shortly before my father’s untimely death. My challenges were different, and yet as overwhelming as those faced by my mother and siblings. I found on the nights that I couldn’t sleep, it helped to write out everything I was feeling. I spent hours recording and then shredding painful memories—effectively weeding out negative items that needed to be removed for me to heal. I was also led to other things that helped like walking to clear my head, acts of service that chipped at the inner pain that threatened to consume me, and messages from heaven that helped me realize I wasn’t alone in the battle I was facing.
One bitter afternoon, I felt impressed to pick up a church magazine. I was so upset that day that I remember picking up the magazine and throwing it across the room. It opened to a page I needed to see. On that page was a poem that touched my heart in a way I still have a difficult time describing. It is as follows:
Coins
That poem would give me the courage to continue on life’s path. I removed the page, framed it, and placed it on my desk where I could see it daily. It became an important lifeline as I healed. There were other messages that surfaced when I need them most—scriptures that seemed written just for me that brought comfort on difficult days. I learned that while I communicated with my Father in heaven through prayer, He often answered my questions through scriptures that brought comfort and inspiration.
I began writing out my story, in a fictionalized account, working through emotions that were tearing me apart as I typed each word. And when I was finished, I found I had written my first novel. I called it, “Still Water Runs Deep,” borrowing a phrase my father had written in a note he had left for me a year before he died. And that was the beginning of my writing career. It wasn’t something I had planned on doing with my life, but that was how it started, and I felt Heaven’s guidance each step of the way as I tried to write books I hoped would touch lives in a positive way. In time, my sixth attempt at writing a novel was accepted for publication, and nine of my books were published by Covenant Communications. My brother told me later that when my first book was published, it gave him hope, and the knowledge that our family was being watched over far more than we ever realized. As we each found our niche in life, it became apparent we had all been helped in so many ways. That is why I will never be able to turn my back to a loving Heavenly Father who has always been there for me, especially during difficult days.
Did the trials come to a halt after what my family had already endured? The answer would be a resounding, “NO!” As a very wise friend of mine told me one day as we walked together, the trials don’t stop until this life is over. And despite what we’ve already faced, there will be other lessons to learn, growth to be attained, and faith to be tested. In short, as my paternal grandmother once told me, this life is a giant classroom, and we never know when we’re going to get hit with a pop quiz. Words to live by . . . literally.
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