Where Did I Come From?

One of the greatest questions to ponder is the question, "Where did I come from?"  (I know...it ends in a preposition, but it sounds better this way.)

As I was falling asleep last night, and pondering my rather weepy day yesterday, a line from my patriarchal blessing came to my mind.  It tells me that before I came here, I knew my elder brother, Jesus Christ, and that I was present and active in the council in heaven.  This statement brought me a great deal of comfort, but I had to ask myself if I still knew my Savior.  I don't think I'm as close to Him as I could be.

For those of you not familiar with "Mormon Doctrine," I'll sum up what I'm referring to:

We believe that we consist of two separate entities: our spirits and our physical bodies.  Our spirits are literally the offspring of our Father in Heaven.  We lived with Him before we were given an opportunity to come to earth and get a physical body (through the conception/birth process.)  Because we are all spirit children of our Heavenly Father, we are all related--spiritually speaking.  This includes our brother, Jesus Christ as well as Satan, who was also a spirit son of our Heavenly Father.  (Not to get on a side topic, but other Christian denominations call us a "cult" because we believe this...oh, well.)

Before we came to earth, Heavenly Father presented a plan that included us coming to earth, being tempted, and having wonderful and trying experiences.  This could only happen if we came to earth and had a physical body.  A key element in this plan is our choice to do good or evil.  Because He knew we would make mistakes, he wanted to provide for us a Savior, who would suffer for our sins so that we could ask for forgiveness and be made whole again.  The eventual goal for all of us is to return to live with our Father again.

Both Satan and Jesus Christ were present at this meeting, as were we all.  Satan spoke up and said that he wanted to force everyone to choose good, and thereby ensuring that all of us would be able to return to His presence.  Satan also believed that he should receive the credit/glory for getting us all back.

Jesus spoke second, and said that He would go, and would do the Father's will and that the glory and honor would go to the Father, as Jesus wanted none of it for himself.

When our Father chose Jesus to be our Savior, Satan became angry and was dismissed from Father's presence.  He left, and took one-third of the spirit children with him.  Because these spirits chose to follow Satan, they never got the opportunity to gain a body.  I believe that they are extremely jealous of us, and do all they can to make us miserable like them.

Our Savior came to earth, gained a body, and had some amazing experiences.  Some were so beautiful and spiritual that we may can't comprehend them.  Some were equally painful and difficult.  We have been taught that He had to suffer everything so that He could understand our suffering.  As bad as I think I have it sometimes, I need to remember that there is One who understands exactly what I am going through.  He has been through it, and will be there with me every step of the way and through every tear.

I know I've posted this hymn in the past, but it is one of my favorites, and it has brought me so much peace.

Where can I turn for peace?

Where is my solace
When other sources cease to make me whole?
When, with a wounded heart, anger, or malice
I draw myself apart searching my soul?

Where, when my aching grows?
Where, when I languish?
Where, in my need to know?
Where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand?
He, only One.

He answers privately.
Reaches my reaching.
In my Gethsemane, Savior, and friend.
Gentle, the peace He finds
For my beseeching.
Constant He is, and kind.
Love without end.

I know that in my own little Gethsemane, I can find peace and solace for my aching heart in one place.  I will forever be grateful for Him, and seek to develop a better relationship.

My Life is a Gift

A Primary song I remember teaching a few years back keeps coming to my mind today.  Wanna hear it?  Here it goes:  (You'll have to add the notes yourself...)

My life is a gift, my life has a plan
My life has a purpose, in heaven it began
My choice was to come to this lovely home on earth
And seek for God's light to direct me from birth.
I will follow God's plan for me
Holding fast to His words and His love
I will work, and I will pray
I will always walk in His ways
Then I will be happy on earth, and in my home above.

In the last couple of days, I have received some lovely Facebook posts from former students.  They both thanked me for my contribution to their lives.  It's funny how a simple suggestion like, "Hey--you could play the cymbals/tuba/etc." can change people's lives.  One of my former students, now a college freshmen is writing a paper about a pivotal moment in her life, and said that the moment I asked her to join the drumline was that moment. 

I started to cry last night when I read what she wrote to me.  I miss having that kind of influence on young people.  I hate sitting around, feeling sick and feeling worthless.  I feel like I'm just taking up space, and it annoys the crap out of me.  It's easy to say that I have other things I am doing right now that are just as important.  I tell myself that there is a purpose for this time in my life...my "career hiatus."  Maybe if I had more faith I would know what it is.

I'm tired.  I'm tired of feeling tired.  I'm tired of not feeling like doing anything; feeling like spending the entire day in bed; not feeling good enough to go shopping with my daughter or even make dinner.  I'm tired of having to rely on my amazing husband for everything from grocery shopping to laundry.  I just wish more than anything that things were different.  This is not what I had planned...

The "pat" answer to all of this is that life doesn't always work out the way you want it to.  I know that.  I know that there is Someone Else in charge, and that I'm on His timeline.  I just needed a moment to pout and feel sorry for myself.  Sometimes it's hard to put on your "big girl panties" and move on.  Sometimes a good cry is in order.

I just want so badly for this to be over so that I can get back to what I've planned for my life.  I'm not asking for much--just the capacity to do good and to be an influence in the lives of others.  It's not even a selfish request, it's just an answer to a simple, heartfelt prayer.

This is a Test, This is Only a Test...

Last Saturday, Ian (reluctantly) went on a hike with his wrestling team.  He did not want to go, and murmured about it all morning.  As we were driving to the meeting point, I encouraged him to make the best of things and to realize that everything he was doing was only making him stronger.  I told him to imagine his next opponent with every step that he took. 

After I dropped him off and was on my way home, I thought of challenges that we all face.  Growing up as a member of the LDS church, in Sunday School we were often asked, "Why are we here?"  The pat answer was "to gain a body and to be tested."  Although I believed that to be true, I hadn't really thought about it. 

Being tested is something that is near and dear to my heart lately, but I know that I am not the only one.  One of my cousins has a sister-in-law who just lost her 1 1/2 year old son in a tragic accident.  Her blog is amazing: http://inthequietheartishidden.blogspot.com/.  Full of heartfelt despair, but also hope and such a strong testimony of eternal families.  Her test makes my current situation seem rather insignificant.  I can't begin to comprehend losing a child.

I got more bad news yesterday.  My hepatitis B count has gone up--again.  Only ten points this time, but it's still headed in the wrong direction.  I feel like I've been on a roller coaster for the past two years and all the time I'm yelling "LET ME OFF!!" at the top of my lungs.  I just wish I had answers...

Nevertheless...this is what I believe:

The reason we are here on earth is to gain a body, have wonderful life-experiences, and be tested...a lot.  I believe that without the hard times that those tests bring, we wouldn't know true joy.  I believe with absolute certainty that if I hadn't had cancer as a child that I wouldn't be the person I am today.  I also believe that even though I am in the middle of a pretty big test right now, I will one day look back on this time with gratitude for the lessons I learned.  I'm already recognizing blessings that could have only come from a loving Heavenly Father.  I know He knows me, I know He loves me, and I know that He weeps with me during my lowest moments. I'm so grateful for this knowledge, and I can't imagine going through life without it.

A Bitter Pill

Throughout my teaching career, I would occasionally have parents who would call with complaints.  They would range from "You're not treating my child fairly," to "The concert last night was terrible."  As I take my profession very personally, these comments would hurt me deeply.  I made a vow to never become one of "those parents" when my children were the same age.

My son is now in high school--a big step for any adolescent.  While he's been largely successful, we've had to work together to learn different study techniques, and most importantly--how to manage his time.  He tends to get impatient with himself and gets frustrated easily, and so the majority of my time with him is reassuring him that if he works hard, things will work out for the best.  He's been pretty busy with sports since school started, first with football and now with wrestling.  He starts his day at 6:15 with early-morning Seminary and doesn't get home until 5:30.  It's a long day for anyone, let alone a fourteen year-old boy.

My frustration has been with wrestling.  He has been wrestling for the past four years, and has been pretty successful.  His dad and I have given him every opportunity to develop his talent--we've taken him to wrestling camps every summer and to off-season tournaments.  Because of his successes, I thought for sure that he would be participating on the varsity wrestling team this year.

His coach thinks otherwise, and has put him on the freshmen team.  He's undefeated thus far, and has won four out of his five matches by pin.  I don't know that many of his matches have been much of a challenge for him.  On the one hand, I'm glad that he's having successes, but on the other hand, he needs to be challenged.

Yesterday he stayed home sick.  He does this at least a couple of times a month...he comes in to my room and says he feels like he's going to puke and feels dizzy.  In my opinion, this is one of the toughest things about being a mom--do you send them to school or keep them home?  Could he have gone to school and been okay?  He stayed home, slept and did some homework.  When his dad left to go to wrestling practice, Ian stayed home, saying he still wasn't feeling well.

When Gordon came home from practice yesterday, he said that the head coach said that if you weren't well enough to practice the day before a meet, you couldn't wrestle.  This means Ian can't wrestle in the big rivalry dual today.  He was going to be able to wrestle on the varsity team for the first time today.  I have a hard time understanding how this is fair.  It would be one thing if he stayed home from practice just because he didn't feel like going, but he was sick.  Gordon is siding with the head coach, saying that Ian needs to learn how to tough it out, and that not feeling 100% is not a good enough reason to not follow through with your commitments. 

While I understand all of this, it's still hard for me to watch my son hurt.  I want to protect him from everything, and I know I can't.  I want him to have everything he deserves, no matter what the cost.  I love him so much, and know he is capable of so much.  I know that this is an important life lesson for him, and I hope more than anything he will learn from it.  I know it's better that he learn this lesson early on.  I only hope that he does.

About that...

So, I thought I'd write more often.

But then school started for me in October, and I haven't had a second to spare.  I felt compelled to write tonight, though.  So I'm sacrificing sleep for my blog.  See how good I am?

I was officially accepted to my graduate program (Educational Psychology) in mid-August.  By this time, all of the classes that area offered for the entire semester were full.  Thus, I was forced to take all 9 credit hours in 8 weeks time.  It's been hectic, but I have LOVED every minute.  I feel a new sense of purpose and it feels good to be doing something productive again.  My brain has gone soft over the past couple of years, and it feels good to flex my "smarticles" (as Courtnie calls them) again.  I'm doing pretty well.  I'm really shooting for an A in all three classes, and I should be able to do it...if I stop second-guessing my answers on my Applied Behavior Management exams!  I would have earned a 94 today if I hadn't gone back and changed answers...why do I do that?  I ended up getting an 84.  Ugh!

The class I'm enjoying the most is my Adolescent Psychology class.  The instructor gives us a lot of supplemental assignments and information, and I have found all of it so interesting.  Yesterday I watched a documentary on teenage suicide and suicide prevention.  A program was implemented at a school in New Jersey that had experienced a rash of teen suicides.  I wrote a paper on my reaction to the documentary and the plan they implemented, and really thought a lot about the despair suicidal teens feel.

As a family, we attended the BYU vs. NAU game at our local events center.  It was fun to see everyone--one of the members of our ward said that he'd never seen so many Mormons gathered together on one place.  I joked that we should just have our Stake Conference after the game.  BYU smashed NAU, and it really wasn't much of a game, but it was fun to be together.

While we were at the game, I got an automated phone call from our high school.  The principal said that one of the students that attends the high school had passed away yesterday, and that counselors would be available to help at school today.  Pretty vague. 

Through the magic of Facebook, Ian and I were able to figure out that a sophomore had committed suicide Tuesday night.  The timing of this suicide, coupled with my recent paper and learning more about what teen suicide hit me hard.  I've never known anyone so young that has committed suicide.  I immediately started wondering what would have caused him to feel that there was no other option.  Was he bullied?  Was he having family problems?  And most importantly...could this have been prevented? 

According to my textbook, 70% of teens have thought about suicide, and 40% have attempted suicide.  This is an amazing statistic.  I understand the despair that we all feel from time to time, but I just can't fathom what could have made this sixteen year-old feel that there was no other option.  I have thought about this most of the day today.  I drove to Phoenix for another blood test and felt so badly that I started to cry.  My own thoughts and worries left as I thought about his friends and family and the grief they must be going through today.  Life is hard.

I thought I had some good news at the beginning of November when my hepatologist called me to say that my Hepatitis B viral count was now down to 160.  He said that he would let the committee know that he's cleared me to proceed with the transplant.  I was expecting to receive good news the following Tuesday when the committee met.  No such luck.  They want me to be at ZERO before they will even schedule the transplant.  While I understand their rationale, it's still incredibly frustrating.  Michelle and I want so badly to get this over with.  It would be nice to have it over with by the end of the year.  I had another lab test done today, so hopefully I'm where I need to be.

The wait continues...

Up All Night

Some nights I have a difficult time falling asleep.  I've been told that this is common in dialysis patients.  Some nights I'm eventually able to fall asleep, and others nights I take a couple of Benadryl to help.  (Of course, then I'm left with what I love to call a "Benadryl hangover" the next day...)

Last night was one of those nights.  It was about 1:30 and I was flipping through the channels on TV in my bedroom.  I turned to CMT and this video was starting.  I really like Martina McBride, so I stopped and watched.  It is so amazing how music and lyrics like this can bring people in similar situations together.  Even though this song is specifically about cancer, I think it applies to anyone who has a strong support system.

You need to take a few minutes right now and watch it.  (You may need Kleenex handy.)

I have been so fortunate to have the BEST support system around as I have struggled the last two years.  I shared the sentiments of the women in the video who say that no one has ever made me feel like a burden...especially Gordon.  He never complains when he has to do more than his fair share of the housework, clean up my puke bucket, or listen to me whine.  He has been given the strength to get through this, and to help me get through it as well.  I don't know how I got so lucky, but I am grateful every day of my life.

Dr. Vargas called yesterday and said I'm not a mutant after all.  My Hep B virus strain is not drug resistant, which--in the long run--is good news.  I'm going to start taking two different anti-viral meds and we're hoping that will kick the virus' butt.  I know I've said this a million times before, but I'm SOOOO ready!  The more I've thought about it, the better I feel that, although a set back is hard, it will be better to make sure all is completely well before I get the kidney from Michelle.  I would feel so terrible to waste it because I was impatient.

At Courtnie's school, they are required to memorize a poem and recite it to the class each quarter.  The teacher selects the poem, and some of them have been quite interesting.  Courtnie is doing her recitation today with the poem, "Pancake Collector."  It's a cute one, and she's loved memorizing it.  She was getting ready this morning and went into my bathroom for a while.  When she came out, she had curled her hair for the first time on her own.  It looked great!  I don't think I did as good a job my first time using a curling iron.  What a cutie!  I love her so much.

We're going to Utah this weekend for Tyler's baptism.  I need to start getting things ready, but Ben Hur is on TV, so I'm not.  Oh well...maybe tomorrow. :)

I'm Baaaack!

I've made a resolution to blog more often, and I'm starting today.  Hopefully this resolution will last longer than all of my New Year's resolutions! :)

Truth is...I haven't written lately because I've been feeling pretty sorry for myself.  I have gone through several weeks where I've just cried for no particular reason.  A couple of weeks ago, I showed up early for dialysis (thinking I could get in early) and ended up waiting for about an hour.  During that time, I watched some of the other dialysis patients come and go.  All of them looked so sick.  One lady--just a little older than me--sat waiting for her ride for quite a while.  After waiting for about 30 minutes, she ended up crying because she was in so much pain.  She called her husband, and he wouldn't come and pick her up, so they had to call and ambulance to come and take her to the hospital. 

For some reason, this really affected me. By the time I got into my dialysis room (aka, "The Fishbowl"--I have to go into a "special room" that is isolated from the rest of the patients so I don't accidentally infect them with my Hep B germs) I was pretty distraught.  I just started sobbing.  I recalled the scene from the movie, "As Good As It Gets" where Jack Nicholson comes out of his psychiatrist's office, looks at the patients waiting in the lobby, and asks, "What if this is as good as it gets?" 

That thought has been on my mind quite a bit over the last couple of weeks...hence the pity party.  A couple of weeks ago I found out that instead of the Hep B virus count going down, like it's supposed to on this medicine, it is--in fact--going UP.  Dr. Vargas is baffled, and ordered a lab test to determine what is up with the virus.  He said I may have a strain that has mutated and has become drug-resistant.  If this is the case, my current viral count may be as good as we're going to get and we can proceed with the transplant.  This is risky, as the immuno-suppressant drugs I'll take after transplant could allow the virus to rapidly multiply and kill my liver.  Either way, I'm not living the life I want to live right now, and why prolong this if it's not going to get better.  With a healthy kidney, I can take a combination of drugs and hopefully kill off the virus.

I've been waiting on the results for two and a half weeks now.  I was supposed to get the results last week, but Dr. Vargas was out of town.  Ugh!  I should hear tomorrow.  I know that both of us would like a resolution to this issue.  As Gordon told me a while back, "It would seem that your life is not destined to be easy."  He was kidding, but that's the understatement of the year!

Ian and Gordon have been busy with football.  They practice every day until 6:00 and their games are usually on Wednesdays.  It's been fun to watch Ian improve.  He played quite a bit the last game, playing both offense and defense and kicking.  It's like a switch has gone off in his head and he has decided that tackling someone can be fun.  He enjoys playing on the defense, as it gives him a chance to tackle people more often.  I'm glad he's starting to feel successful, as he didn't feel that way at the beginning of the season.

Courtnie has been playing soccer for about a month now.  She's never really played an organized sport before, and it has been interesting to watch her grow.  She seems to enjoy it, even though her team has played four games and has yet to score even one goal.  I'm glad that she's getting some exercise and is making new friends.  She's also taking piano lessons, and is doing very well.  She is always happy to practice and wants to do well at her lessons.  (It doesn't hurt that her piano teacher is awesome!)

The last two days have been awesome.  I love watching General Conference and hearing the words of our church leaders.  It started early--with the first talk by Elder Richard G. Scott.  He talked of the importance of using the scriptures in our daily lives:

"To memorize a scripture is to forge a new friendship," he said. "It is like discovering a new individual who can help in time of need, give inspiration and comfort and be a source of motivation for needed change."


As individuals ponder the scriptures, they are able to find direction and form a foundation of support. Scriptures provide an incredibly large resource of willing friends who can help, Elder Scott said.

"Pondering a passage of scripture can be a key to unlock revelation and the guidance and inspiration of the Holy Ghost," he said. "Scripture can calm an agitated soul, giving peace, hope and a restoration of confidence in one's ability to overcome the challenges of life. They have potent power to heal emotional challenges when there is faith in the Savior. They can accelerate physical healing."

I have experienced this first-hand recently.  In our Gospel Doctrine class a couple of weeks ago, we were reading in 2nd Corinthians, chapter 1.  It reads:

3 Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort;

4 Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.
5 For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also aboundeth by Christ.
6 And whether we be afflicted, it is for your consolation and salvation, which is effectual in the enduring of the same sufferings which we also suffer: or whether we be comforted, it is for your consolation and salvation.
7 And our hope of you is stedfast, knowing, that as ye are partakers of the sufferings, so shall ye be also of the consolation.


I sat there reading and re-reading that passage for the majority of the class.  Not only is my suffering for my own good, but it is also essential.  We all must suffer so that we can have empathy for others' suffering.  Perhaps the reason I have been through this trial is so that I can help others.  I also took comfort in the fact that Christ knows me, knows my sufferings, and that I will someday find consolation and salvation because of my suffering.

I loved Elder Carl Cook's talk on the counsel President Monson gave him.  As Elder Cook looked down in discouragement, the prophet told him, pointing heaven-ward, that it is "always better to look up." 

Gordon had to work Saturday night, so I took Ian to the Priesthood session.  When I picked him up, he and I talked about the subjects that influenced him the most.  He said that several of the leaders talked about being prepared for whatever the Lord needs you to do.  Whether it is answering a question about the Church, or being asked to give a blessing, if you aren't spiritually ready, you won't be able to fulfill that responsibility.  I'm so proud of my son.  He is my spiritual hero.

I loved Sister Dalton's talk to fathers about raising daughters.  I thought often of my dad, who was always a listening ear and and one of my biggest cheerleaders.  Sister Dalton said that the greatest way a father can love his daughter is to love her mother.  This will teach her that the right man will always treat her with love and respect.  I wept as I thought of the way my loving husband has treated me for the last twenty years.  He has treated me like a queen in every sense of the word.  I tell Courtnie often that I hope she can find someone as wonderful as her dad.

President Monson is a wonderful storyteller.  I loved watching his facial expressions as he told the story of the five dollar bill and the answer to a young boy's prayer.  I can imagine being next to him as he tells stories.  His expressions remind me a lot of my Grandpa Cobabe, who was also a great storyteller and a wonderful man.  I'm so grateful that the Lord has given us a prophet who is not only a great leader, but is personable and kind. 

Above all, I'm grateful to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  The teachings of the gospel of Jesus Christ permeate everything that I do and everything that I am.  I am grateful for the hope it provides to me and my family of a true "happily ever after."