Ugly Crying, Lazarus, and Baptismal Covenants

In the two weeks leading up to Easter I had the opportunity to attend three funerals. 3 funerals in 2 weeks.

They say people die in 3s, but seriously there were

3 of them

In 13 days

I only have one funeral outfit.

Admittedly it was an emotionally draining time. However it was also beautiful and I have come through with some beautiful insights and observations and overall am grateful for the experience. (Except I would really rather not wear that funeral outfit again for a long time so if everyone could be real careful for the next little bit that would be real nice, k.)

They were all very different funerals and I had very different connections to each.

The first was the nearly 100 year old grandmother of one of my dearest and oldest friends. I did have the privilege of knowing her grandmother and seeing the beautiful relationship my friend had with her.

The second was a man who had recently converted to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and joined my ward. I never actually had the opportunity to meet him due to his significant medical concerns but had met his wife on a number of occasions.

While I was not personally grieving these losses, a part of the covenant or promises I made at baptism kept coming to mind.

Mourn with those that mourn.

I feel like we typically emphasize the next two parts:

-Comfort those that stand in need of comfort

-Bear one another’s burdens

And while I feel like there is significant overlap between the three, I think it’s also poignant that they are distinguished from each other.

I’ve been through enough losses to know that I couldn’t take the pain away from my friends, and that I shouldn’t try because that pain is sacred. There wasn’t a lot that I could personally do for them in those moments. But it kept coming back to me that I could mourn WITH them. Not mourn FOR them, not mourn BECAUSE of them, but I could mourn WITH them.

It was between these two funerals that I experienced a personal loss.

My career was in Special Education, and while I am not actively teaching at this time, it’s something that I continue to stay involved in and hope to get back to as an advocate in the future. This was not something that was on my radar growing up or even when I began college. My first summer home from school I needed a job, I bumped into the mom of a friend from high school who said she was looking for a care provider for her youngest who had severe Autism. Within about a week I found myself working with Megan. My sweet little Megan. A little angel who was also a primarily non-verbal little spit-fire who gave me more than a few bruises. Midway through that summer I got really fed up with her one day. She had this huge tantrum and I was completely exasperated and counting the days until the summer was going to be over and I would be done, and then she sat down and started humming her favorite song- I Am A Child of God. And you know that just made me even more mad because honestly how on earth could you go from this violent rage to humming that song. And in that moment I was completely humbled and changed as the spirit whispered to me, “She REALLY knows what it means to be a child of God.” And then I knew that this was my calling in life.

Despite never having had an actual conversation with her, Megan changed my life pretty drastically. Not just in my career but in so many aspects of my life. And while I hadn’t been working with her for a number of years, it might be kinda cheesy and cliche but Elphaba and Galinda say it best, “So much of me is made of what I learned from you…Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better, but because I knew you, I have been changed for good.”

Megan suffered a massive seizure at the beginning of March that landed her in the hospital and it didn’t look good. I spent the next few weeks waiting and watching for updates on her progress and prognosis.

At the end of March, the day after I was there to help my friend lay her grandmother to rest, I was in line for gas at Costco. The line was long and I figured I would jump on Facebook for a minute to pass the time. As I opened the app, the first post that I saw was the post announcing Megan’s passing. While I was not shocked by the news, and while I felt that it was for the best, and that she was in a better place, etc etc etc, in that moment it just hurt. It hurt in all the deep places I never really knew existed. So I promptly started ugly crying….in line for gas at Costco.

My first inclination was to get out of line and just get home where I could ugly cry not while trying to operate a vehicle, but…..I have this really bad habit of pushing my gas tank to the last drops. I’ve had to be saved on more than one occasion from literally just running out of gas and I was there, pushing it again. So I had to stick it through and fill up with gas.

As I’m pulling up to the pump I start desperately trying to regain composure because who wants to be the person ugly crying while they fill up with gas at Costco right?

But as I got out sniffling and wiping tears I found myself torn between not wanting to be noticed and simultaneously desperately wanting one of these random strangers at Costco to notice and give me a big awkward stranger hug and ask me what was wrong.

I didn’t want to be told that everything would be ok. And I didn’t want anyone to tell me about how she was in a better place. Or how I’d see her again. Or how this was all part of a bigger plan. Or any other of the things we say. I wasn’t ready to be comforted. I simply and desperately wanted someone to mourn with me for a moment. I wanted someone to feel that this was sad.

I didn’t want them to feel sad FOR me, I wanted someone to feel sad WITH me.

When Jesus came into Bethany and was greeted by Mary and Martha who had just lost their brother, Lazarus, we get the shortest, and yet arguably one of the most profound verses in all of scripture.

Jesus wept.

Standing near a tomb (not a Costco gas pump), having learned that his dear friend had been dead for 4 days, seeing the pain and I’m sure fear in the eyes of these surviving sisters whose lives could be drastically changed at the death of a male relative, and hearing the weeping of a community, Jesus stands there and ugly cries with them.

He doesn’t jump to offering platitudes. He doesn’t tell them not to be sad. He doesn’t immediately jump into preaching. He doesn’t even fix it right away. For this sacred moment he just simply mourned WITH them.

And the response from the community-

“Behold how he loved him!”

I feel like one of the purest and simplest acts of Christlike love and charity we can give is to simply mourn with those that mourn.

The story goes on and continues to show the other two aspects of the baptismal covenant I mentioned earlier.

After he’s had this moment of mourning he goes on to offer comfort and begins showing a bigger plan.

When he asks them to take away the stone from the tomb, Martha objects, reminding him that Lazarus had been dead four days and will definitely stink by now. To which Jesus responds by saying- remember I told you “if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God.”

Then, after he’s mourned and comforted, that’s when he very miraculously bears their burden.

“Lazarus, come forth. And he that was dead came forth.”

Now I can’t bring back Grandma, and I can’t replace a ward member’s husband. And you can’t bring back Megan or fix the years of trials that she went through. But I think we can use this story as a pattern for truly living our baptismal covenants.

When we hear about a tragedy in our own life, in the life of someone close to us, in our community, or somewhere in the world we’ve never even heard of, I think the first thing we need to do is just take a moment to mourn. Before jumping in with explanations or fixes, or blame, or anything else, just take a moment to feel sad that it happened.

Then, when the parties are ready, offer comfort. Offer prayers and best wishes. Offer hugs. Share insights. Share your peace. Share how you got through something similar.

But don’t stop there. Bear the burden. Make a meal. Do some service. Donate money. Donate blood. Do some research. Write your representatives. Find a way to make the situation better and hopefully avoid similar tragedies in the future.

I think that then we will see the glory of God, and He will pour out His spirit more abundantly upon us.

Come Follow Me Family Home Evening for Little Ones- May 2020

I am SOOOOOO pregnant right now.  For the record, I do not recommend homeschooling while pregnant during a pandemic and then selling your house on top of that.  But here we are!!!!  Baby is coming super soon, really tired, and to be frank, very grumpy.  So, this month’s ideas are going to be much simpler than others, but I figured I needed a plan or else it won’t happen so I’m getting something together and sharing it.

All the good birthing thoughts, prayers, and vibes would be much appreciated!

 

May 4-10 A Light that Can Never Be Darkened

 

Use the 10 Commandments printable to go over and teach these concepts.  You could cut out big heart shaped tablets to glue them on so we can keep the commandments in our hearts.

I used a picture of fighting for “thou shalt not kill” because on a kid level they need to understand more that we don’t use our bodies to hurt other people.

To explain “thou shalt not commit adultery” go back and review the concepts from the law of chastity lesson– we don’t keep secrets; if someone touches you in a private place tell them to stop, get away, and tell an adult right away; grown ups who are married may share their private places only with each other.

 

May 11-17 We Have Entered into a Covenant with Him

 

Sing a few of the baptism songs from the Children’s Songbook.  Use the Baptismal Covenants printable to discuss the covenants we make when we are baptized and how they can start preparing now.

 

May 18-24 They Were Called the People of God

 

Probably just going to watch the video on Living Scriptures.  Could be fun to pull out some makeshift costumes and act it out after watching the video or reading the story.

 

May 25-31 They Were Steadfast and Immovable

Use the activity page at the end of the Come Follow Me for Primary lesson for this week- but cut out and discard the distractors.  For young kids, well, they’ll just be distracting, especially for toddlers and preschoolers it’s better to just focus on the right things to do.  Have them pick a few that they want to include and color and paste them on a paper.  Have them practice talking about them in their own words and make plans for them to share at a family testimony meeting for the upcoming Fast Sunday.

 

This activity is a good example of something that works really well for multiple age groups.  For your emerging talkers, they could just identify the pictures.  For your toddlers they can give one liners.  Preschool and early elementary could explain a little in their own words.  Upper elementary could differentiate what does and does not belong in a testimony and then write theirs out a little more.  Teenagers could write out their own.

 

To Tremble Because of Pain

I introduced this idea in my post about my birth stories, but wanted to develop it further.

If you’re into birth stories then give it a read, but if you would like to be spared all of the TMI here’s the pertinent part of the story in a nutshell.

With my second pregnancy I developed symphysis pubis dysfunction at 10 weeks.  Which basically meant that I was in debilitating pain for the last 30 weeks (plus the 2 days overdue) of my pregnancy.  It was horrible and my doctor didn’t care/ wouldn’t listen.

The pain was sometimes mild and manageable but frequently jumped to excruciating, by the end it was mostly always excruciating.  But no matter what, it was constant.

I had a doctor’s appointment on my due date, which was a Monday and my doctor agreed to set an induction date.  He initially said Wednesday then changed his mind and suggested Friday.  I piped in, “Or Wednesday!”  “No, Friday will be better schedule wise.”  “Or we could do Wednesday.”  “Why Wednesday, what’s two more days?”

Anyone who would suggest that it’s just two more days has clearly never experienced chronic debilitating pain.  I mean he might as well have said, “What’s two more days in Hell?”  It’s 4 MORE days in Hell, is what it is, because Wednesday is 2 more days.

He settled on Friday, I felt powerless to argue, so that was the plan.  That’s not what ended up happening, but that starts getting way off topic.  She did end up coming on her own on Wednesday.

The thought of having to be in pain longer caused me to reflect deeply on a favorite passage of scripture.  This comes from the Doctrine and Covenants and is a revelation given to Joseph Smith in which Christ explains and details His life and mission.  He explains His suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane prior to being crucified:

“Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink—

Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men.”

That phrase, “to tremble because of pain” has always struck me, but now it was striking with more meaning.  I felt like my pain was being disregarded, that I was being treated as weak or foolish for expressing that I was in pain, and yet the Savior, even God, TREMBLED because of pain.  I by no means want to compare my pain to what He must have gone through in that time, and yet, it was validating to realize that He was admitting to trembling in pain.  I realized on a very personal level that He understood what I was going through which made me feel closer to Him.

The biggest thing it did was make me thing about how we, “mere mortals,” react to pain in ourselves and to others.

No one will get through this life without experiencing some form of debilitating pain, whether it be physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual, or really any combination of the above, because really they are all connected.  These painful trials can become a stepping stone that allows us to draw closer to our Savior making them sacred experiences.  But what about when you are in the middle of it, or someone around you is in the middle of it, too often we try to just make it go away or make it seem less awful than it is, I feel that this can take away from the sacred nature of pain, and unfortunately can make the situation harder in the moment.

I want to take a look at some of the mistakes we make when dealing with pain both our own and others.  Like I’ve said in other posts, if you realize that this is something you have done to me or others, know that I am not upset, or holding a grudge.  I know that people are for the most part well meaning.  My hope is that we can learn together from these mistakes so that we can be more helpful to others in the future.

What not to do:

Putting things in perspective

Having an Eternal perspective is so important when dealing with trials.  Knowing that God is there and on your side and that “all these things shall give thee experience and work for thy good,” can be the only thing that keeps you going sometimes.  I feel like developing an Eternal perspective is something that you should be working on constantly, especially during the “down time” when you aren’t in the middle of a crisis so it’s there to get you through the crisis.  When the crisis comes, the Eternal perspective becomes a very personal relationship with God through mighty prayer and faith.

Sometimes people say things, well meaning of course, to try and spin the Eternal perspective, or put things in perspective during the crisis.  Things like, “Well it could always be worse….you could have….”  or “Well at least you have….”

Yeah, because when you’re in pain you definitely want to think about how things could be worse, that’s a pretty hopeful place to go.

I really can’t picture anyone saying to Christ in the Garden, it could always be worse, I mean you could have gotten YOUR ear cut off, or your disciples could have gone home to sleep instead of falling asleep in an uncomfortable garden.  You wouldn’t say that to Him.  And the only person I can see coming up with a “Well at least…” statement is Satan.  “Well at least you HAVE body.”

Those kinds of statements invalidate the experience.  And OF COURSE it could be worse, and people have gone through harder things.  I mean ultimately Christ experienced it ALL.  But I can’t for a moment picture Him coming and saying it could be worse, or at least you didn’t have to go through what he went through.  No.  He validates our pain because He experienced it.  He sends the Comforter to help us through.

I feel like in Mormon culture we don’t want to let things be bad.  And maybe that’s because we believe that ultimately we will be led to pure joy.  Or we have this idea that in order to be Christ-like we can’t admit to the struggle because He was perfect and somehow we think that being perfect means not having human emotions, reactions, or struggles.  And yet, he said, “Father if thou be willing, remove this cup from me.”

Was he showing a lack of Eternal perspective in that moment?  Was it sinful to show weakness?  No, but He was expressing His emotions and His pain freely to His Father.  Sometimes things are just hard, really hard and awful, and the cup can’t just be removed.  He had to experience it in order to fulfill His most sacred responsibility.  Likewise we have to allow ourselves and others to experience pain in order to fulfill our sacred potential and join the fellowship of Christ.  To try and remove it, or make seem not as bad would hold us back from being able to “overcome all things,” which is a characteristic of those who will inherit the Celestial Kingdom.

Find the deeper meaning or give an explanation

“He’s in a better place.”

“God must have needed her more on the other side.”

“Think of all the lives he’s touching.”

“If it’s God’s will….”

“I’m sure it will all be ok”

These platitudes, plain and simple, are not helpful.

As individuals deal with pain, grief, and loss and turn towards God, sometimes they receive answers that give meaning to what they have experienced.  Sometimes the personal revelation they receive sounds like some of the lines I wrote above.  HOWEVER, those answers are deeply personal, need to come from God, and need to come when they are ready to receive it.  While it may turn out to be true, to try and offer meaning or give an explanation is an attempt to receive personal revelation for the other person.

Also, don’t give assurances that it will be ok.  Again, that’s as if you have received personal revelation for someone else’s experience.  When I was 16 my mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.  For the 2 weeks between diagnosis and hysterectomy I lived with constant weight and fear of the unknown.  When I told people they frequently said to me, “It’s alright, your mom’s going to be fine,” “Everything is going to be ok!”  It was really frustrating because didn’t know if everything was going to be ok, I hadn’t received that answer from God.  The prognosis was good, but there was still the lingering fear of what could come, not to mention that even if they could get everything out with the surgery and no follow up needed, my mom was still undergoing major surgery and would be healing for several weeks.  (For the record, everything did turn out ok.  In fact, after the surgery they came back and said it wasn’t actually cancer, just cysts, and now 15 years down the road there have been no continuing concerns.)

When baptized in the LDS faith we covenant to bear one another’s burdens, mourn with those that mourn, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort.  Our job is to bear, mourn, and comfort, not to explain or reveal meaning, that is God’s job.

Comparisons

Don’t compare your pain.  Don’t compare anything for the matter, but really, don’t compare your pain and your trials.

As a missionary I started out with a chip on my shoulder.  I had myself convinced that I had sacrificed more than most of the other missionaries, so I really had a reason to struggle and have down days.  I did sacrifice a lot to be there, and I certainly had my fair share of literal blood, sweat, and tears.  But one day I was humbled with the seemingly obvious realization that at some point everyone would go through the hardest thing they have ever gone through.  That would be different for everyone and tailor made for them to grow and develop as needed.  I realized that I needed to allow other people to struggle, because while they weren’t going through the same thing I was, what they were going through was hard.

I had to learn this same concept but flipped when I went through my second pregnancy.  I was surrounded by people who were going through very very difficult trials.  A few friends experienced infant loss while I was pregnant, another friend was struggling with infertility (prayers for her recently implanted baby!).  And then there was me, carrying a healthy baby, and yet struggling so much.  Let me be clear that none of them did or said anything to make me feel guilty, I placed the burden of guilt on myself.

How dare I feel depressed when there were so many people around me going through something much harder.  Never would I ever wish to trade places with them.  So I tried to tell myself that I should just suck it up, and I should be so happy.  And of course I WAS happy to be carrying a healthy baby, that wasn’t what I was depressed about, but that’s what makes it depression.  I wasn’t really sad about anything, I was sad about EVERYTHING, and being in constant physical pain made it so much worse.

I finally realized, that yes, while other people were going through things that were harder than what I was experiencing, that didn’t mean that what I was going through wasn’t hard.  While I found joy in the hope that I would have a healthy and happy baby at the end (which isn’t quite how it went what with the NICU stay and all, but that’s a different story), it didn’t mean that I had to pretend to be enjoying my present circumstance.  I needed to validate my own pain and stop comparing it to others.

Another comparison we need to avoid is an attempt at an empathetic comparison.

A dear friend of mine lost her Father to a very long battle with cancer when she was only 19 years old.  I was her visiting teacher at the time and I’m sure I said some well meaning, but stupid things to her, but did my best to comfort while validating her pain.  At one point I started to say to her, “I know how you feel.”  Then corrected myself, and said, “Actually, I have no idea how you feel.”  She thanked me for saying that and told me that she found it a little frustrating when people said, “I know how you feel.”  And then a lot of them would follow it up with something like, “My grandpa died.”  Not to take away from the pain and sadness of losing a grandparent, but losing your parent especially at such a young age, is a very different experience.

On the flip side of that, the “I could never do that” response is another form of comparison.  Again it’s well meaning, and perhaps trying to highlight a strength that you see in the person.  Unfortunately it can feel like a wall being put up that makes them different.  The implications of the phrase, while in most cases not meant to be malicious can hurt the person who is doing their best to get through something difficult.  Often people experiencing loss (especially in extreme cases such as the loss of a child or untimely death of a spouse) feel guilt when they realize that their life is moving forward, especially in the moments when they realize they “forgot to miss them” or “forgot to be sad.”  Somehow they do have to continue with their life without letting loss consume them.  Comments like, “I could never do that” or “I would just fall apart” can increase that feeling of guilt, as if moving forward means that they didn’t love the person enough.  That’s of course not the case, but in the middle of loss our brains are not exactly known for being entirely logical and rational.

 

An empathetic response is wonderful, however an attempt at an empathetic comparison may leave the person experiencing the trial actually feeling less understood and less validated in their pain which can unfortunately end up causing more pain.

What TO do:

501px-gethsemane_carl_bloch

I feel like this painting really illustrates it perfectly.  Allow people to go through the experience, to grieve, to cry, to express themselves, and mostly just be there holding them, listening, and loving.

The angel isn’t saying to Him, “It’s gonna be ok.”  Because she knows it’s not, His trial and pain were going to continue and get worse.  I picture her simply saying, “I’m here, I love you, your Father loves you, I’m sorry you have to go through this,” and then crying along with Him.

In my experience, and from what I’ve observed with other people’s experiences is that in the middle of the trial they need people to just be there, to allow them to express the reality of their pain, to let them ugly cry when needed, and to just know that you are a safe person to vent to.

Rather than trying to give a positive spin or a comparison say things like:

  • I’m so sorry this is happening
  • That sounds so hard
  • I can only imagine

Don’t just tell them that God loves them, SHOW them by being an extension of His love.  Let them know that you will be there and help with whatever they need, give them ideas of what that means.  Tell them if they need to talk about it then your ears are open, if they need a distraction to get their mind off of it then you would love to get out of the house with them and not talk about it.  Offer specific service- can I bring a meal, do some laundry, mow your lawn, watch kids, donate to a fund, etc.

I feel like this quote from Spencer W. Kimball really sums this up:

“God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through another person that he meets our needs… So often, our acts of service consist of simple encouragement or of giving mundane help with mundane tasks, but what glorious consequences can flow from mundane acts and from small but deliberate deeds!”

Pray, and let them know you’re praying, but be aware that it can seem trite when someone says they are praying but doesn’t follow up with any action or dismisses what the hurting person is saying.

Send notes and text messages to let them know that they are on your mind.

Most of all just love and be loving.

To Those Experiencing Pain and Trials

I’m sorry, I hope you are able to find comfort.

Please keep in mind that people are trying to be nice so when they do make one of the mistakes from above, forgive them.  When appropriate you may want to find ways to calmly explain what types of responses are helpful vs. hurtful.

Let people serve you!  While on my mission, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland did a mission conference for us and something that he said has really stuck with me.  He explained that while on our missions we had a very specific and important focus and we ought not to let Terrestrial, or worldly, cares get in the way of our higher calling.  That’s why they encourage members to feed missionaries, and ask missionaries to have simple wardrobes etc. so we don’t have to use too much of our precious time taking care of those earthly needs.  I feel like this applies to us when we are experiencing significant trials as well.  When in the middle of the trial you have much more pressing needs to take care of so let people around you take care of your Terrestrial needs as much as they can.

Most of all take care of your physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual needs.  Surround yourself with positive influences and don’t be afraid to reach out to trusted people.

And if you do need some good perspective, remember that this too shall pass.  It might pass like a kidney stone, but it will pass.