Putting your faith in the right place.

In the last few months I have done some deep investigating into my soul and my psyche. I always thought I had strong faith, an unwavering testimony. I never thought that I put too much of that faith in the people around me but I did. After losing Rhiannon, I turned to my Savior for relief from the pain. I didn't have anyone else to turn to. I don't think I realized how much I laid at his feet. He gladly received my pain, my questions, my anger. In return I felt His love, His healing.

After losing Loughilin, I was so sad and angry. I felt complete responsibility for his death. I had been driving, I hadn't seen the truck, I had made Loughlin switch places with Cyrus. I was so hard on them. I was trying to be a good mom. I was trying to do what was asked of me. It seemed I always fell so short, on motherhood, housekeeping, being a good wife, book keeping, irrigating or being a student. Whatever I tried, I felt inadequate. If only I had been living more righteous this would have never happened. If only I had told him I loved him that morning or every morning. If I had taken him to get his permit or given him that 15th birthday party. I should have. I am rambling and my thoughts are amiss but I am trying to make a point. It wasn't just after his death but throughout my whole marriage, I never felt capable of much. I knew my every fault but I never could see what I did well. I still struggle with this concept. Because of this feeling of inadequacy, I put my faith in others, I stole my strength from others. Loughlin's death and the trials that followed took my sorrows and anger to new depths. I was angry mostly at God and how could I put my faith in someone that had taken so much. I tried to go to him but I was kicking and screaming and pounding on that door. I remember thinking ,"Ask and it shall be given you, knock and it shall be open", but the door not only felt closed but dead bolted. I never felt a molecule of the Spirit around me, maybe close after his death, I felt His arms around me but the more dark I became the less light was to be held. Not until I read, A Grief Observed, CS Lewis did I understand that happening. He said something close to who would open a door when a crazed lunatic is on the other side, yelling and screaming and cursing his name, kicking and punching anything that came close to them. I had to hit rock bottom, I had to become humble again. Now I knock and he answers, I cry out to him but with a sincere voice and he listens. He has changed my heart, has allowed me to love again, to empathize again, to see some good in my existence. I had to humble myself to know that I couldn't get through this without some help from doctors and counselors, It was a process. It is hard to admit such a thing but after trying some of the meds, I have realized I should have been on the medicine since I was a teenager. I had thought death an answer to my problems, not that I would have done that but I wished each day not to wake, or for something awful to happen to me, the pain, sadness, fear, anxiety so great that I couldn't see a way out. Today I have learned that only through my Savior can I make it, only through my obedience to his teachings will I find my way home again. That is where I am placing my faith. People are human and the fail sometimes, but Christ will never fail us.

The result in this, is a greater love for my husband and children and hope again. I feel so solemn in the promise of hope. It calms my aching heart, eases the fear and anxiety I wake up with. I still haven't found the right medicine but I have found some that help. I can see the light again. I can slow down my thoughts enough to solve some of my problems. I am a work in progress.