I feel like I just climbed out of the ring from a 9 round Knock Out with Mike Tyson. Whew!
No worries--I still have both of my ears.
The following is from a letter sent to some family members recounting an experience I had my first weekend on bed rest:
You know, I used to consider myself a pretty spiritual person—someone that tries to stay close to the Spirit, reads her scriptures and studies them intently, says her daily prayers, goes to church, pays tithing, on and on. Then I had this happen.
Do you remember the story of Peter walking on water? So the Savior has concluded teaching a multitude and tells his disciples to go ahead of him and set sail to reach the other side of the body of water they are by in a boat while he finishes up, which they do. That night, they see what appears to be a ghost walking upon the water, realizing as it draws nearer that it is the Savior himself approaching. Peter calls out to the Lord and leaves the boat in an act of faith to draw closer to the Lord. He’s walking on water (he’s who I thought I was—a good person with great faith and testimony trying to get back to the Savior) when a slight wind comes up. His confidence is shaken, his faith wavers and he begins to sink. He calls out to the Savior, “Save me” to which our wise Older Brother replies, “Oh ye of little faith.”
Peter’s faith falters at the slightest wind. How is this so? I now understand and will see Peter very differently—because there was a life on the line. Because in Peter’s eyes it was desperate peril, he was about to be overtaken by the storm and the waves raging around him. When he started to sink, I would bet you money he took his eyes off of the Savior and looked down—and the thought of what he might lose terrified him.
HE TOOK HIS EYES OFF OF THE SAVIOR!
I did the same thing this week. I had been up and down emotionally all weekend—high, low, high, low. One minute I was fine, the next I was in despair. Then one night I went to the bathroom, saw more leaking and bleeding (no more than usual), but it was enough to act as that wind for Peter. I looked down, saw what I could lose, and took my eyes off the Savior. I laid back down and plead through the night with God and this story of Peter I shared came to mind. As I read the account I heard the Lord saying to me, “Oh ye of little faith.” And I thought, I really am of little faith. In a moment of weakness I forgot the countless tender mercies He has shown me these past few weeks . . . my whole life really. My eyes are SO used to seeing in terms of this world.
Okay, so that was a month ago.I really thought I had gotten my sea legs, was even going to blog about it and then last night happened. Pretty much same scenario. I start bleeding a lot and it gets to me.
Granted this go around I know that I have to keep my focus on the Savior-okay.
So for 5 of the longest, hardest hours of my life, I spiritually tread water barely keeping my nose above the deep that threatens to overtake me. This isn't just in my head--I am fighting something real and it is taking everything I've got to keep it at bay.
By 4 a.m. I am crying and I've hit my wall. I tell Heavenly Father I can't swim much longer-I am beaten up with a bloody nose (literally, ha ha--my nose is bleeding all over).
By 5 a.m. I am sleeping.
By 8 a.m. I am in my bathroom almost crying when I see the bleeding has stopped.
You know, Peter’s life was never really in danger—neither is mine or my baby’s. No one is going to be lost here. Yes, it is true that my baby might not survive and be with me during my sojourn here but this child has never for one moment been lost. I am in my life-boat making my way across this life, and the Savior is beckoning for me to come to him—do I let the wind of this storm overcome me and stop me from reaching Him? Do I let the fear screaming in my ears drowned out the faith I know I have? I can’t—there’s no choice. I have to keep going.
and so do you.
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