The last three years have been a study in faith for me. I believe that if faith was a university subject, I
would have a degree in it by now. I've shared my thoughts along the way, but this will possibly be the last post about it, because, to put it simply, it's hard for me to believe anymore what I have been taught about faith.
"Ask and ye shall receive. Knock and it shall be opened unto you."--Jesus Christ
"If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth."--Jesus Christ
"If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you."--Jesus Christ
"But God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it."--The Apostle Paul
"In moments of fear or doubt or troubling time, hold the ground you have already won. When those moments come and issues surface, the resolution of which is not immediately forthcoming, hold fast to what you already know and stand strong until additional knowledge comes."--Jeffrey R. Holland
"You must learn to walk to the edge of the light, and perhaps a few steps into the darkness, and you will find the light appear and move ahead of you."--Harold B. Lee
There are countless other examples. I have studied the scriptures. I have wept as I have walked hundreds of miles, listening to the counsel of the apostles and prophets. I have reexamined my life continuously, looking for one more thing I can do to express my faith in Heavenly Father. I have worked to not let my lack of faith affect my daily life, rising above the depressing emotions which seek to pull me down. I have attempted to trust in the Lord in everything, hoping that he does indeed know best.
I remember my first test of faith. I was attempting to win a concerto competition, and I couldn't get through the music. My teacher was getting frustrated with me, and I was feeling frustrated with myself. Looking back on it now, I can't even believe that I was a functioning human being as a teenager, knowing what I was enduring in my home life. But back then, it was about proving my worth to other people through music, so winning was a really big deal. (I believe I've posted about this before, but I'll do it again). It was evening, and I had been practicing for three or four hours. I turned off the lights in my bedroom, started the record of my concerto, and knelt down in prayer. The first movement of the Saint Saens second piano concerto is a good twelve minutes long, and I used every minute to offer up my plea to Heavenly Father to help me. I didn't ask for him to help me win, but I asked him to help me do the best that I could. I wept openly, feeling as if the recording was a soundtrack for the prayer I was offering (if you haven't listened to the beautiful first movement, you should). After that prayer, everything changed for me. The notes stuck under my fingers, the music made sense in my head, and yes, in the end, I won the competition. It was such a revelatory moment to me that faith and prayer actually do work.
When John and I were young, we would pray for an extra $20 to buy groceries at the end of a pay period. We were short the money because we had paid our tithing first. One hundred percent of the time, we got that $20, either by me landing an unexpected accompanying gig, or finding a $20 bill in the pocket of a coat.
I do believe we prayed our way through John's medical school experience. Praying for him to do well on tests, praying for him to pass his boards (multiple times), praying for him to "match" with a residency, praying for him to survive four years of Ob/Gyn residency, praying for a job. Between our efforts to study and support, and the Lord's help, John was successful. He was always successful.
Too, I can remember the prayers when I was serving as Primary President in Dayton. John was rarely home, I had three kids under the age of eight, we had no money, and I had nowhere else to turn but the Lord. I wish I had been blogging back then, because I saw miracles in my life daily. Times when I didn't think I had the physical strength to make it through the day, and by the end of the day, I wondered why I was ever worried.
Even now, as we look back on our lives in Pennsylvania, with John serving in the stake presidency, working as an Ob/Gyn in a clinic 45 minutes away from our home, and me raising four kids, we recognize that it was only possible because the Lord was taking care of us. We both believe that there's no way we could have made it through that time without divine help.
So why is it that when I had terrible facial pain the other day due to an undiagnosed sinus infection, and John offered to give me a blessing, I told him that I didn't have the faith necessary for a blessing to work? Why, after all the experiences I've had in my life, would I think this?
Because I just don't believe that the Lord will step in and help me anymore.
As recent as two months ago, I wouldn't have said that. I would have believed that it could be possible. But I realized, in that moment, that I just don't believe anymore. I know that the Lord loves me; I don't doubt that. We have so many blessings in our lives that I can't deny that the Lord is aware of me.
It's difficult for me to swallow, but I don't believe he will answer specific prayers that I offer anymore. I'm not sure why this is, but I'm guessing it's because of my own sinful ways. John certainly has every reason to be blessed, looking at his life and all that he does, but I think there's something in who I am that disgusts Heavenly Father, and he wants to withhold whatever I seek.
As we have attempted to sell our house, we have done everything possible to make it happen. We haven't just sat back and hoped that the Lord would take care of it all. We have had the house on the market for almost three years now. We have switched realtors, hoping that a change would make a difference. We have moved ourselves, saving our family $20,000, and hopefully showing the Lord that we don't take our money for granted. We have lowered the price on the house almost 30%. So many people have prayed for us and have felt, of their own accord, that a miracle was on the horizon, and in the words of Elder Holland, I leaned on their faith. We have left our house empty, based on multiple moments of inspiration in the temple. We have anticipated being "saved" at multiple last minutes, happy to think of how we will share our experience in faith with others. We have literally turned it over to God because there's nothing else we can do.
And as of last week, we're meeting with lawyers to start foreclosure proceedings. Not the answer to our prayers at all.
It's difficult for me to process that there's no happy ending from all of this. We followed every prompting, trusting that it would all work out in the end. My question is, "Why would the Lord tell us to move if we are going to be financially ruined by doing so?"
It makes me question the multiple moments of inspiration on both of our parts. I think back to three years ago when John and I both received promptings in the temple that it was time to move on. It makes me wonder why it was so easy to leave PA and start our lives in Michigan when we can't really enjoy anything because of the financial cloud that constantly hovers over us? Every time that we have a showing, I believe with every fiber of my being that we will finally be released from the house, and we won't be financially destroyed, and yet we are disappointed every time. I have asked but I have not received. I have stepped into the darkness only to find more darkness. I have given everything to my new area and my new calling. I read my scriptures. I listen to conference. I give of my time and talents. I pray. I fast.
I have prayed that Ethan will find a job here in Ann Arbor. Nothing.
I have prayed that Mark will find a promising, new future. Nothing.
I have prayed that John will finally find some peace in his job. Nope.
I have prayed that Johannah will be happy on her mission. Maybe.
People ask me to pray for them, and I do, but I don't trust that my prayers will have any effect. I don't believe in myself, and I don't believe that the Lord believes in me. I have tried to have faith that God is still a god of miracles, but it's been so long since I've seen a miracle in my own life that I know there must be a disconnect somewhere. Surely it isn't with Heavenly Father, so it must be with me.
I hope that someday I will look back at this time and be able to see a reason for it all. That I will see a purpose in it. That I can bear my testimony, along with Job, that through all the trials, I could still feel the love of Heavenly Father. But with my lack of faith, I don't believe that will happen.
would have a degree in it by now. I've shared my thoughts along the way, but this will possibly be the last post about it, because, to put it simply, it's hard for me to believe anymore what I have been taught about faith.
"Ask and ye shall receive. Knock and it shall be opened unto you."--Jesus Christ
"If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth."--Jesus Christ
"If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you."--Jesus Christ
"But God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it."--The Apostle Paul
"In moments of fear or doubt or troubling time, hold the ground you have already won. When those moments come and issues surface, the resolution of which is not immediately forthcoming, hold fast to what you already know and stand strong until additional knowledge comes."--Jeffrey R. Holland
"You must learn to walk to the edge of the light, and perhaps a few steps into the darkness, and you will find the light appear and move ahead of you."--Harold B. Lee
There are countless other examples. I have studied the scriptures. I have wept as I have walked hundreds of miles, listening to the counsel of the apostles and prophets. I have reexamined my life continuously, looking for one more thing I can do to express my faith in Heavenly Father. I have worked to not let my lack of faith affect my daily life, rising above the depressing emotions which seek to pull me down. I have attempted to trust in the Lord in everything, hoping that he does indeed know best.
I remember my first test of faith. I was attempting to win a concerto competition, and I couldn't get through the music. My teacher was getting frustrated with me, and I was feeling frustrated with myself. Looking back on it now, I can't even believe that I was a functioning human being as a teenager, knowing what I was enduring in my home life. But back then, it was about proving my worth to other people through music, so winning was a really big deal. (I believe I've posted about this before, but I'll do it again). It was evening, and I had been practicing for three or four hours. I turned off the lights in my bedroom, started the record of my concerto, and knelt down in prayer. The first movement of the Saint Saens second piano concerto is a good twelve minutes long, and I used every minute to offer up my plea to Heavenly Father to help me. I didn't ask for him to help me win, but I asked him to help me do the best that I could. I wept openly, feeling as if the recording was a soundtrack for the prayer I was offering (if you haven't listened to the beautiful first movement, you should). After that prayer, everything changed for me. The notes stuck under my fingers, the music made sense in my head, and yes, in the end, I won the competition. It was such a revelatory moment to me that faith and prayer actually do work.
When John and I were young, we would pray for an extra $20 to buy groceries at the end of a pay period. We were short the money because we had paid our tithing first. One hundred percent of the time, we got that $20, either by me landing an unexpected accompanying gig, or finding a $20 bill in the pocket of a coat.
I do believe we prayed our way through John's medical school experience. Praying for him to do well on tests, praying for him to pass his boards (multiple times), praying for him to "match" with a residency, praying for him to survive four years of Ob/Gyn residency, praying for a job. Between our efforts to study and support, and the Lord's help, John was successful. He was always successful.
Too, I can remember the prayers when I was serving as Primary President in Dayton. John was rarely home, I had three kids under the age of eight, we had no money, and I had nowhere else to turn but the Lord. I wish I had been blogging back then, because I saw miracles in my life daily. Times when I didn't think I had the physical strength to make it through the day, and by the end of the day, I wondered why I was ever worried.
Even now, as we look back on our lives in Pennsylvania, with John serving in the stake presidency, working as an Ob/Gyn in a clinic 45 minutes away from our home, and me raising four kids, we recognize that it was only possible because the Lord was taking care of us. We both believe that there's no way we could have made it through that time without divine help.
So why is it that when I had terrible facial pain the other day due to an undiagnosed sinus infection, and John offered to give me a blessing, I told him that I didn't have the faith necessary for a blessing to work? Why, after all the experiences I've had in my life, would I think this?
Because I just don't believe that the Lord will step in and help me anymore.
As recent as two months ago, I wouldn't have said that. I would have believed that it could be possible. But I realized, in that moment, that I just don't believe anymore. I know that the Lord loves me; I don't doubt that. We have so many blessings in our lives that I can't deny that the Lord is aware of me.
It's difficult for me to swallow, but I don't believe he will answer specific prayers that I offer anymore. I'm not sure why this is, but I'm guessing it's because of my own sinful ways. John certainly has every reason to be blessed, looking at his life and all that he does, but I think there's something in who I am that disgusts Heavenly Father, and he wants to withhold whatever I seek.
As we have attempted to sell our house, we have done everything possible to make it happen. We haven't just sat back and hoped that the Lord would take care of it all. We have had the house on the market for almost three years now. We have switched realtors, hoping that a change would make a difference. We have moved ourselves, saving our family $20,000, and hopefully showing the Lord that we don't take our money for granted. We have lowered the price on the house almost 30%. So many people have prayed for us and have felt, of their own accord, that a miracle was on the horizon, and in the words of Elder Holland, I leaned on their faith. We have left our house empty, based on multiple moments of inspiration in the temple. We have anticipated being "saved" at multiple last minutes, happy to think of how we will share our experience in faith with others. We have literally turned it over to God because there's nothing else we can do.
And as of last week, we're meeting with lawyers to start foreclosure proceedings. Not the answer to our prayers at all.
It's difficult for me to process that there's no happy ending from all of this. We followed every prompting, trusting that it would all work out in the end. My question is, "Why would the Lord tell us to move if we are going to be financially ruined by doing so?"
It makes me question the multiple moments of inspiration on both of our parts. I think back to three years ago when John and I both received promptings in the temple that it was time to move on. It makes me wonder why it was so easy to leave PA and start our lives in Michigan when we can't really enjoy anything because of the financial cloud that constantly hovers over us? Every time that we have a showing, I believe with every fiber of my being that we will finally be released from the house, and we won't be financially destroyed, and yet we are disappointed every time. I have asked but I have not received. I have stepped into the darkness only to find more darkness. I have given everything to my new area and my new calling. I read my scriptures. I listen to conference. I give of my time and talents. I pray. I fast.
I have prayed that Ethan will find a job here in Ann Arbor. Nothing.
I have prayed that Mark will find a promising, new future. Nothing.
I have prayed that John will finally find some peace in his job. Nope.
I have prayed that Johannah will be happy on her mission. Maybe.
People ask me to pray for them, and I do, but I don't trust that my prayers will have any effect. I don't believe in myself, and I don't believe that the Lord believes in me. I have tried to have faith that God is still a god of miracles, but it's been so long since I've seen a miracle in my own life that I know there must be a disconnect somewhere. Surely it isn't with Heavenly Father, so it must be with me.
I hope that someday I will look back at this time and be able to see a reason for it all. That I will see a purpose in it. That I can bear my testimony, along with Job, that through all the trials, I could still feel the love of Heavenly Father. But with my lack of faith, I don't believe that will happen.
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