Eyes to See

This past week I've found myself drawing on my reservoir of faith. I've never experienced the prospect of death so closely before, and so I tread on uncharted territory. I've dug deep to bring understanding to what has been a very difficult time, most especially for my mother as she has suffered the greatest of us all, but for everyone involved.

Recently, in the course of my MBA studies, we read the book, "Man's Search for Meaning" by Victor Frankl. This book is, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful pieces of literature this world has ever seen, particularly as it relates to human suffering.

Frankl endured incomprehensible (in my mind) suffering and his entire family perished in various concentration camps. He talks of love and how it sustained him as he thought about his wife whom, at the time, he had no idea if she were still alive and had no means of finding out. He says:

"Love goes very far beyond the physical person of the beloved. It finds its deepest meaning in his spiritual being, his inner self. Whether or not he is actually present, whether or not he is still alive at all, ceases somehow to be of importance." He continues, "...love is as strong as death."

Later he speaks of how grateful he and others in the camp were for the smallest of mercies. Through life's ebbs and flows, my mother has often sweetly reminded me, "Heidi, gratitude is the key to abundance." She is right. And so, I've taken the opportunity to reflect on the things I am most grateful for involving the circumstances we currently face, and here are a few that I wish to share with you:

Love. Speaking of love, it has also sustained me. I have felt the most palpable love over this past week. The love of God, family, friends, strangers, care-givers, etc. Love so pure as to make one weep. Of weeping Frankl said, "There was no need to be ashamed of tears, for tears bore witness that a man had the greatest of courage, the courage to suffer." (In this case, I'm one of the most courageous people I know! ;-)

God's presence. I feel Him ever so near. I know that He is in charge and that His ways are higher than ours. I trust Him to take good care of my mom, both while she is still with us here, and when she returns home to live with Him again (whenever that may be).

The power of the Comforter. A very real power making possible that through our deepest sorrows, we can feel the purest peace. This dichotomy of emotion doesn't make any sense without the knowledge of a higher power.

More time. Hypercalcemia, a big warning sign of the presence of cancer, could have easily claimed my mother's life and nearly did. If left untreated, this condition can cause irreversible damage to the kidneys, digestive system, bones and muscles, brain, and heart... and ultimately lead to complete system failure. I believe my mother had a choice to stay or go. Frankl said, "Those who know how close the connection is between the state of mind of a man--his courage and hope, or lack of them--and the state of immunity of his body will understand that the sudden loss of hope and courage can have a deadly effect." I'm so proud of my mom. In addition to the great measure of faith she has so gracefully demonstrated, she is absolutely filled with hope and courage. However much time is left, I will take and cherish it!

Progress. My mother may not be cured of this awful disease, but she has made significant and miraculous progress. She is sitting up, walking (assisted), talking, eating, remembering, laughing, etc. Everyday she shows us more and more of her "old self".

(Above: treating the elevator bumps like an amusement park ride)

Forgiveness. It's very easy in a situation like this to allow your mind to flood with all the unkind things you've ever said or done. I was lucky enough to spend the first night with my mom in the hospital. The next morning, I stood over her bedside, held her hand, and through my tears asked for her forgiveness. Even in her not-so-lucid state she was able to comprehend and reply (a miracle itself) with, "Oh Heidi, don't feel bad--I don't even remember those things." Then I was reminded that God doesn't remember them either when we properly repent.

Reprioritizing. There are few things that matter in life. What a sweet opportunity to be reminded of what those things are. I pray I never forget...not even for a moment.

Joy. Amidst what has been described by a few as "pandemonium", we have experienced a whole heap of joy! The main culprit responsible for the silliness and laughter is my mother herself. She has the most magical, magnetic, spunky, bright personality! Psalms 30:5 "...weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."

(Above: Meli and Jen modeling my mother's mesh hospital unders at a last minute girl's night extravaganza!)

Frankl said, "...everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms--to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way...any man can, even under such circumstances, decide what shall become of him--mentally and spiritually." I'm so grateful for a mother who by her valiant example, shows me the act of a true disciple and ultimately chooses to rise.

No doubt Frankl and many others in the camps prayed for relief, preservation, freedom, and miracles. Perhaps his story, and mine, and maybe yours too, is evidence that miracles don't always come in the form we hope or expect, but miracles come...we simply need the eyes to see them. Perhaps one of the great miracles of Frankl's story is the beautiful book born of his suffering--a book that has changed the lives of countless people. Many of the miracles of my mother's story have already been mentioned.

"If there is a meaning in life at all, then there must be a meaning in suffering. Suffering is an ineradicable part of life, even as fate and death. Without suffering and death human life cannot be complete." He continues, "Everywhere man is confronted with fate, with the chance of achieving something through his own suffering."

I add my testimony to his and to that of Elder Holland when he eloquently bore witness that we must all expect to endure our own personal Gethsemane, for how else could we expect to be with and be like Him who suffered the greatest of all (forgive me, I'm unable to locate the exact quote). I hope to endure my Gethsemane well and, by so doing, be called His.

~Heidi