I'm not going to go into any details about what's going on with my 2-year-old niece. But contrary to what I would have thought watching her play at my mom's last weekend, she's not actually healthy. And her parents have been told that what they are trying to do to help her get healthy isn't working.
So I guess it was my mom's idea to have a family fast for her. Since tomorrow is fast Sunday, all of Caroline's paternal relatives (and, I hear, many others) will stop eating at some point today and not eat again until about 24 hours have passed. During that time we will be praying for Caroline and her family. I'm also praying for those who give her medical care and advice.
I just finished my lunch today, so after I was done, I knelt in prayer to begin my fast.
In some ways, it seems like an odd thing to do. Why should going without food have any affect of her health? So, of course, we must remember that it's more than not eating. It's prayer and pleading. By skipping the meals, we help ourselves remember that we are trying to focus our prayers and faith on Caroline. But we also say some things to our Father in Heaven as we do this. One of the things I think I am saying is, "my concern for this other person, this family, is greater than my concern for my own basic physical appetites." We are also saying, I believe, that even though our brains may not really see how my skipping meals should matter to the God of the Universe, we actually believe that He sees it as one way we show our humility and dependence on Him and our faith that He is there. In short, it's one way to exercise our faith that what we do, say, and think here matters to the Supreme Father of us all.
There is power, also, in the numbers. Just think about it: many people who know and love this family willingly give up food and send prayers heavenward on their behalf. That's unity. I believe unity has power.
One more thing: as I prayed just a few moments ago, I felt (in my mind and in my heart) that God, our Father in Heaven, knows this family and cares for them deeply. He knows about all the tears Caroline's parents have shed as they've contemplated their daughter's future. He knows what Caroline needs right now. Caroline is precious to Him and He has the power to help her.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Note.
Someone who read my posts here asked me why I had decided to use weird code names for my family members on this blog, particularly when I just use their real names on my other blog.
Good question.
I thought about it, and when I couldn't come up with a reason besides the fact that I just think my code names are so clever, I decided to drop them. So, if you read the last post you'll see I've used my son's actual name instead of "Colonel."
Usually, when I think something I've come up with is SO clever, I end up being the only one who thinks so.
Please excuse this style change.
Good question.
I thought about it, and when I couldn't come up with a reason besides the fact that I just think my code names are so clever, I decided to drop them. So, if you read the last post you'll see I've used my son's actual name instead of "Colonel."
Usually, when I think something I've come up with is SO clever, I end up being the only one who thinks so.
Please excuse this style change.
Ever prayed for help and gotten it?
I have. In fact, it happens all the time.
About two weeks ago, on a snowy and stressful Sunday, it happened again.
I sat in my car in the driveway with my little boys buckled into their seats in the back and offered a prayer to Heavenly Father that despite the fact that Jeremy couldn't go to church with us, and despite the fact that little Johnny was super tired, that I'd have the help I needed to get through the day with a positive feeling. That everything would go smoothly. That I might even be able to learn something from church or help someone else learn something, too.
Then I began the 5 minute drive to church. Like I said, it was snowy, and I was feeling stressed.
I pulled into a parking space and saw that my little one had fallen asleep and that the parking lot was covered in snow and ice. Hmm. Two bags to carry in, two little boys in big coats (one of whom is asleep), icy pavement, high heels. Not sure how I was going to manage. I thought, "I'm going to have to go in and ask someone to come out and help me."
I turned off the car and got out. As I turned around, I saw that someone was already walking toward me. He said "Do you need some help?" Apparently, he had seen me pull in, known my car, known I didn't have my husband with me to help. But here's the remarkable thing to me. He knew those things. Big deal. The next part is the big deal. He got up from his seat on the couch in the foyer of the church and walked out into the snow and offered me his help.
How many times have I known someone needed help and not done anything about it?
But that's beside the point. That person who helped me did not know about the prayer I had offered just minutes before. But he was (in part) the answer to that prayer, the beginning of that day going well despite everything (including my attitude) that was stacked against it.
Someone out there is probably saying "That guy could have and probably would have helped you even if you hadn't prayed."
Maybe that's true. People are good. They want to help out. They can see a need on their own and act on it. Of course.
But here's why that's not the whole story. Two and a half hours later, I sat listening to a woman teaching about unity. She said a lot of things that I needed to hear, but she said something that seems, in retrospect, to be unrelated to her lesson: "Sometimes, when you are feeling really down, someone comes along and gives you just enough of a boost to help you go on again." I heard her say this and I immediately thought of this person who had helped me that very day. Sure, I wasn't so down I couldn't go on, but her words connected something for me that needed to be connected.
This guy who helped me carry my stuff across the snowy parking lot, helped me get my kids' coats off so we could go into the Sacrament meeting. This guy didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know that I was feeling low, discouraged, picked on, stressed. He just knew he thought he ought to come out and help me.
Yes, I was very happy to see him walking towards me across the parking lot. I was almost shocked to hear his offer of help. And I thought then, "What a blessing! I'm so grateful!" But I didn't connect then, just minutes after I'd offered the prayer, that his appearance was just the thing I had been praying for. (I was too busy worrying about a sleeping boy and an icy ground to think about it). In fact, I didn't even know, when I offered that prayer, the kind of help I would need. And I didn't know how heartening it would be to me to get that help without having to ask for it.
So the thing that came to me and made me weep two and a half hours later, when that teacher said those words, was that someone else did know. I sent my prayer up knowing that I couldn't do that day without help. And He who heard that prayer knew just the kind of help I would need. Only the One who knew what help I needed could have given the nudge to the person who could and would stand up, walk out the church doors, and give it.
And then, through the Holy Ghost, after my stressed-out, bad attitude had had sufficient time to chill out and be replaced by a peaceful desire to learn, He helped the truth about what had happened to click in my brain and resonate in my heart.
And I knew then, as I sat on a mauve cushioned folding chair and wept, that my prayers are heard and answered by the God of the Universe. I've known this truth so many times in my life. Felt it and testified of it and believed it. Yet I was still amazed to know it again that day.
About two weeks ago, on a snowy and stressful Sunday, it happened again.
I sat in my car in the driveway with my little boys buckled into their seats in the back and offered a prayer to Heavenly Father that despite the fact that Jeremy couldn't go to church with us, and despite the fact that little Johnny was super tired, that I'd have the help I needed to get through the day with a positive feeling. That everything would go smoothly. That I might even be able to learn something from church or help someone else learn something, too.
Then I began the 5 minute drive to church. Like I said, it was snowy, and I was feeling stressed.
I pulled into a parking space and saw that my little one had fallen asleep and that the parking lot was covered in snow and ice. Hmm. Two bags to carry in, two little boys in big coats (one of whom is asleep), icy pavement, high heels. Not sure how I was going to manage. I thought, "I'm going to have to go in and ask someone to come out and help me."
I turned off the car and got out. As I turned around, I saw that someone was already walking toward me. He said "Do you need some help?" Apparently, he had seen me pull in, known my car, known I didn't have my husband with me to help. But here's the remarkable thing to me. He knew those things. Big deal. The next part is the big deal. He got up from his seat on the couch in the foyer of the church and walked out into the snow and offered me his help.
How many times have I known someone needed help and not done anything about it?
But that's beside the point. That person who helped me did not know about the prayer I had offered just minutes before. But he was (in part) the answer to that prayer, the beginning of that day going well despite everything (including my attitude) that was stacked against it.
Someone out there is probably saying "That guy could have and probably would have helped you even if you hadn't prayed."
Maybe that's true. People are good. They want to help out. They can see a need on their own and act on it. Of course.
But here's why that's not the whole story. Two and a half hours later, I sat listening to a woman teaching about unity. She said a lot of things that I needed to hear, but she said something that seems, in retrospect, to be unrelated to her lesson: "Sometimes, when you are feeling really down, someone comes along and gives you just enough of a boost to help you go on again." I heard her say this and I immediately thought of this person who had helped me that very day. Sure, I wasn't so down I couldn't go on, but her words connected something for me that needed to be connected.
This guy who helped me carry my stuff across the snowy parking lot, helped me get my kids' coats off so we could go into the Sacrament meeting. This guy didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know that I was feeling low, discouraged, picked on, stressed. He just knew he thought he ought to come out and help me.
Yes, I was very happy to see him walking towards me across the parking lot. I was almost shocked to hear his offer of help. And I thought then, "What a blessing! I'm so grateful!" But I didn't connect then, just minutes after I'd offered the prayer, that his appearance was just the thing I had been praying for. (I was too busy worrying about a sleeping boy and an icy ground to think about it). In fact, I didn't even know, when I offered that prayer, the kind of help I would need. And I didn't know how heartening it would be to me to get that help without having to ask for it.
So the thing that came to me and made me weep two and a half hours later, when that teacher said those words, was that someone else did know. I sent my prayer up knowing that I couldn't do that day without help. And He who heard that prayer knew just the kind of help I would need. Only the One who knew what help I needed could have given the nudge to the person who could and would stand up, walk out the church doors, and give it.
And then, through the Holy Ghost, after my stressed-out, bad attitude had had sufficient time to chill out and be replaced by a peaceful desire to learn, He helped the truth about what had happened to click in my brain and resonate in my heart.
And I knew then, as I sat on a mauve cushioned folding chair and wept, that my prayers are heard and answered by the God of the Universe. I've known this truth so many times in my life. Felt it and testified of it and believed it. Yet I was still amazed to know it again that day.
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