My boyfriend broke up with me about a week ago tomorrow and
can I tell you it was one of the most painful experiences of my life.
I know people often
use absolutes like that but honestly I can compare it to any number of things
such as losing my close grandmother, my dad going in for heart surgery and my
grandmother passing away all while I was 6 hours away in a different end of the
state with no way to comfort the ones I loved,
being the only member of my family not in the temple when my brother and
his wife were sealed to one another, my cat dying, my best friend moving away,
the news that I would have to spend 1 ½ more years in St. George before I could
move, learning that I didn’t get the job I had so desperately wanted after
searching for 6 months, and the list goes on. None of these things compared to
what I felt. All I can say is it was the deepest, most bleak, and hopeless
feelings of emotional pain my physical body could with stand without breaking.
From this description you might assume that I was pretty
serious with this guy and that was not the case. I have pondered on my reaction
frequently over the last week. My only
conclusion is that emotionally and therefore physically I was already a bit low
(I experience depression every so often) and that physical state coupled with
my break up was enough to send me down that painful rode. Nonetheless this post
is not about the breakup as much as it is about my healing heart.
I have wanted love for so long that when I finally got the
opportunity for it develop my heart soared knowing that finally… oh finally,
finally,.. F I N A L L Y I had the
chance. I wanted companionship: someone I could share my hopes, dreams,
sorrows, frustruations, and happy moments with. I wanted someone who would be
there for me. Who could hold me and tell me it was going to be okay. I know I
am not alone in my feelings. I remember going to class where most of the girls
are married or dating someone (in my program) feeling like I was one of them.
For the first time I was one of those girls (to some degree). Oh, I just
couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. The best was those random moments when
I remembered I had a boyfriend and not just any boyfriend one I liked and
wanted to be with. Oh the smiles that
erupted on my face many times upon that realization.
Now, in contrast I feel like the married wife who
desperately wants a child and who with the help of the best medical aide
possible as well as lots of praying and fasting cannot have a baby I also feel
like the child with a severe peanut butter allergy who can’t be like a normal
child at lunch and sit with the other kids because the risk of being exposed to
peanuts is too great. Or I feel like the middle aged young woman with a
physical or medical problems that make normal life impossible. I feel like I
can’t be normal: I can’t have what I so desperately want.
I remember thinking this and immediately I remembered a talk
I had read recently by President Eyring from the October 2012 General
Conference titled: “Where is the Pavillion?” President Eyring retells his
daughter-in-laws experience with fertility issues and how hard it was for her
to be different. She found herself surrounded by reminders of that very think
in which she wanted and at times those who had it didn’t even appreciate it or
want it.
I want to quote the next part of the story because it is
expressed so well by President Eyring: “
Hoping to lift her spirits, her husband invited her to join him
on a business trip to California. While he attended meetings, she walked along
the beautiful, empty beach. Her heart ready to burst, she prayed aloud. For the
first time, she asked not for another child but for a divine errand. “Heavenly
Father,” she cried, “I will give you all of my time; please show me how to fill
it.” She expressed her willingness to take her family wherever they might be
required to go. That prayer produced an unexpected feeling of peace. It did not
satisfy her mind’s craving for certainty, but for the first time in years, it
calmed her heart.
Within weeks they were
expecting a child but the important message of this story was that she
submitted FULLY to heaven’s will and removed the “spiritual pavilion” that was
covering her.
I remember thinking that I needed to follow her example and seek
to do the will of the Lord. I found comfort in this knowledge. I found myself
asking the question: “How can I put the Lord first?” Many things have come to
mind: service, prayer, scripture study, attending the temple, visiting
teaching, giving my all in my calling in the ward, etc. I felt like I needed to
show my heavenly father that I trust him and would be willing to give up things
of lesser importance for the things of God. Which for me are the things that
will bring me the greatest happiness.
So even though I am still different and surrounded by people
experiencing that which I so desperately want I can’t lose hope. I have to choose
today what I want for myself tomorrow and by so doing preparing myself and
fitting myself so that I will be ready to enjoy the tomorrow that I want.
I am still searching, working, and healing. My journey to my
promised land is not over but is ahead of me stretching out for an unknown amount of time but I do know that everything will work out. I do know that the
Lord answers prayers and LOVES each and everyone of his children. That includes
me, Chelsey, his daughter.
