I was shrouded in such a dark, depressing cloud, that I couldn't even lift my eyes to see the good.
It possibly all started with the cold wave that hit our town really hard. On Tuesday morning we woke up to -19 temperatures. And to add insult to injury, our heater decided to stop working that day. It was bitter cold in our house for about 7 hours until the mechanic finally showed up. He couldn't get his truck working because of something cold related-- go figure! I kept a fire burning in the fire place all day and bundled everyone up, which kept us semi-warm, but not warm enough to lift my spirits. I felt so miserable.
And sick. This pregnancy is starting to take it's toll on me. Everyday is a struggle to find something to eat so I won't feel sick. I've found that when my tummy is full, the nausea-feeling lessens, so eating voraciously every 1-2 hours is the cure. Yet the only things I felt like eating this past week was junk food. Cheezits, sugary cereals, Taco Bell, and sweet juices took over my diet all week. For those that know me, I don't purposely eat this way.
It was making me so angry and disgusted with myself to crave all these junk foods, plus sit there and watch my pants grow smaller and smaller as my waist grew larger and larger.
And forget about getting exercise. Not only was it too cold outside to go for a jog, but I didn't feel like it. Not one teeny bit.
So here I was stuck in my house, with the harsh effects of winter all around me, feeling sick, disgusting, and obese, with nothing to look forward to, hope for, or feel good about. The snow continued to fall all week, the temperatures continued drop, and each time I looked out the window at the snowy mountains, I would fall to pieces.
I didn't understand why God would lead me out of my warm, beautiful Hawaii to be miserable, sick, lonely, and cold here in Utah. Why did we even leave?, I questioned, What good is this doing for anyone for me to hate my life here?
I tried all week long, despite my misery, to be happy for the sake of my children. But each day they saw me break-down, crying miserably with self-pity for my situation. I also tried watching videos and reading stories about people who's lives were way far worse off than mine, but it only led to feeling worse. (yeah-don't do that to yourself.)
Last of all, I especially tried to think positive, be grateful, and count my blessings. I tried to pray, read uplifting talks, and scriptures. That unfortunately, didn't work either.
The depression I felt was too strong and too overwhelming for me to be lifted. In the end I figured all I could do was wait, and hope for something to change.
Change came Sunday afternoon in Sacrament meeting. Each Sunday we attend church services where we sing hymns, hear inspirational talks, and take the sacrament. We take the sacrament each week to renew the promises we made with Christ when we were baptised. I usually look forward to it every week, but this week I felt nothing. I felt like a zombie, full of negative thoughts and nothingness. But then something beautiful happened. As I took the sacrament I felt Christ's infinite love. His love penetrated the deepest, darkest corners of my miserable soul, and forced his light inside me. I could feel Him reminding me to trust him.
"You don't trust me," I felt Him say. "You don't trust that I know you and am leading you in the right direction."
I knew He was right. I knew that I had stopped trusting Him and was questioning His plan for me. I knew that I was letting negativity take over because I didn't trust that everything was for a purpose--that even though I was having a hard time right now, this was all part of His plan for me. Everything would be beautiful in the end.
I don't know why I stopped trusting Him, but I did. And for some reason this knowledge changed everything. Because I knew that if I could start trusting Him again, I would feel happy again. I would feel hopeful, peaceful, and excited for what He has in store for me, despite my sickness and coldness, and often loneliness here.
For the remainder of our sacrament meeting the time was turned over to the congregation to get up and share their favorite scripture and then bear a short testimony about it. One man got up and shared Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.
I hadn't heard these verses in a long time, but they seemed to fit my situation perfectly and remind me that there is a time and purpose for everything:
|To everything there is a season, and|
a time to every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born, and
a time to die;
a time to plant, and
a time to pluck up
that which is planted;
A time to kill, and
a time to heal;
a time to break down, and
a time to build up;
A time to weep, and
a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and
a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and
a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and
a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and
a time to lose;
a time to keep, and
a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and
a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and
a time to speak;
A time to love, and
a time to hate;
a time of war; and
a time of peace.
I wanted to add my own versus to it, to remind me that this season will pass just as well: