The worst solo I ever did sing: A more realistic holiday update

A week before Christmas I posted a 2017 update for our family, I saw a lot of other people post similar types of updates.  Ours went a little something like this (I don’t post names for privacy/ security, so you just get titles here):

“Family Adventures 2017!
-Husband was asked to serve as the Elder’s Quorum President (president of one of the men’s organizations in our congregation) and is still working for [insert company].
-I started a blog and continue to teach Relief Society (the women’s organization in our congregation) once a month
-Son started preschool, he is LOVING it and learning lots
-Daughter is 15 months now, she’s been walking for a while now and starting to talk a little. Her favorite things so say are, “All done” and “NO!”

We’ve done a lot of traveling this year including-
-Houston and San Antonio with a little jaunt up to Waco
-Husband got to go to Philly for work and took a side trip over to Baltimore to see his brother
-I took the kids and youngest sister in law to Utah to visit cousins
-Utah (again as the whole family) including a family reunion in Lindon/Provo area, Vernal for Dinosaur National Park, petroglyphs at McConkie Ranch, Fantasy Canyon, Arches, and Goblin Valley
-Several trips up to Flagstaff for Lowell Observatory and Sunset Crater
-Sedona
-Grand Canyon
-I went to Utah (so much Utah!) for a girl’s weekend and got to see a life size replica of the Ancient Biblical Tabernacle at the old BYU stomping ground
-Husband took several trips to CA for work, in October we all tagged along and took a day to go to Sea World
-After Thanksgiving we rode out on the Apache Trail to see the ruins at Tonto National Monument”

Based on this it probably sounds like 2017 was really hunky-dory and we are just having so much fun over here.  And we are having fun, and we have so much to be grateful for.  But 2017 was actually a pretty rough year.  I realized after I posted focusing on only the positive that I had actually left out most of the amazing blessings we have received and lessons we have learned this year and in so doing, kinda left God out of our update.  So here’s a more accurate portrayal of how 2017 went.

We’ll start at the end and work our way around:

At the beginning of December our ward choir director approached me and asked me to sing a solo as part of our special Christmas Sacrament meeting program on Christmas Eve.  I love to sing and am always happy for the opportunity so of course accepted.  She gave me the song- Star of Bethelehem– which to be honest, I have never particularly liked.  It’s fine, don’t get me wrong, I have just always thought it was a little cheesy.  But, again, I was happy to sing it.

The week before Christmas Eve (on my husband’s birthday/our anniversary) I caught the cold from Hades.  I mean this thing has morphed more times than a Power Ranger- it’s still lingering 2 weeks later.  I never anticipated that I would be sick for a whole week (let alone 2) but with how much other craziness was going on (I’ll fill in those details later), I got to the Saturday night before Christmas Eve and the cold had settled all of it’s mucus in my nose and sinuses.  This makes singing a little tricky but it was a little too late to try to find someone else to cover for me.  I practiced it a few times, and though I knew I wouldn’t be at my best, I sounded fine.

The next morning I practiced with the accompanist, it sounded fine, not as great as I knew I could do, but fine.  When it came time to get up to sing in the program, I don’t know what happened.  The snot shifted weird or something, but I could hardly get a note out.  I had very little control over what my voice was doing.  That’s a very humbling place to be as a singer because your body and your voice are just not doing what you want them to do.

Then I got to these lines:

“A sweeter face I ne’er will see
Than of those loving eyes smiling up at me.
I found a King, I found a Friend,
That night in Bethlehem”

Since becoming a mom, singing about the Christ child has become very emotional for me. My kids have been giving me a run for my money lately, and maybe that added to it.  But thinking about Christ as a baby, and then referring to Him as our friend, I just lost it.  So on top of being sick now I was emotional which is just really not a great combo for beautiful singing.

I tried to get it together, which I probably could have done better if I weren’t also ill, but then came to these lines:

“And though I stumble and fall I can hear someone call,
“Do not despair, your star is still there.”‘

And I thought about the struggles we’ve been going through which pale in comparison to some of the other struggles going on in our congregation.  We have three members dealing with very serious cases of cancer.  One of those is a child.  And there are many other serious trials that people from our church family are struggling with.  So I completely lost it again and barely tripped along through the rest of the song.  I’m telling you it was the worst singing I think I have ever done publicly.

But…

Afterwards several people thanked me and told me they had been crying through it right along with me.  I think that if I had not been sick and therefore more humble than my typical self, and had not become emotional, it would have just been a simple (and maybe a little cheesy) song.  It might have sounded nice, but the message and the impact might have been lost.  I think we all needed a good cry together.  If I hadn’t been sick and emotional I know I would have missed out on a blessing and a lesson, and might not have been able to deliver the message that Heavenly Father needed delivered in that moment.

And that’s kind of representative of how 2017 went for us.  So here’s a summary of the craziness we have faced this year:

January- my husband woke up with his uvula so swollen that he couldn’t talk or swallow, and could only breathe through his nose.  Emergency room visit #1

February- husband had surgery to hopefully fix the issues that caused the great uvula debacle of January.  I also finally decided I was sick of being in constant pain following my second pregnancy and started physical therapy.  Which was very helpful, but finding a babysitter once a week (times 8 weeks) for 2 kids was a little bit stressful.

March- actually I think this month was ok over all

April- my anxiety hit a pretty high point due to some external stressors including my husband’s business trips, I gained back any and all weight I had lost post pregnancy

May- We started solids with baby girl and her stomach did not agree with certain baby foods.  She started waking up in the middle of the night with horrible gas pains and would scream for about 3 hours. Every. single. night.  Hoping to help clear her out I started giving her pear juice, and more pear juice.  Turns out pears were one of the problems.  We didn’t sleep for a month.

June- lots of traveling, fun, but taxing.

July- discovered nodules in my thyroid, had several suspicious moles removed two of which were found to be moderately concerning (don’t freak out there’s still severely concerning and pre-melanoma before you get to melanoma)

August- got said moles removed which meant no lifting for a while (that’s really easy when you have 2 small children), got in to a thyroid specialist (pretty sure I just like lived at the doctor this year- this started a round of monthly blood draws and doctor visits)

September- husband experienced some unsettling symptoms and ended up in the emergency room again- turned out to just be a complex migraine

October- car started making some weird noises

November- husband got a nasty cough that turned into chest pains that turned into another visit to the ER.  Everything with his heart was fine- they sent him home not knowing what the problem was.  With 3 ER trips in a year I decided we needed to start weeding out what could be causing him to get sick so often and decided to start with a mold test.  Look no further, we found mold.  Which as it turns out could cause ALL of the random symptoms he had experienced.  Just after Thanksgiving we started the mold removal process which meant emptying our playroom and having it tarped off.  Weird car noises constantly looming.

December- Just keep that construction zone in the back of your mind, lots of noise, lots of workers in and out of the house and coordinating schedules.  Then the heater broke, luckily it was an easier fix than we were worried about.  Then husband left town again for work.  I don’t do very well anxiety wise while he is gone in general, but on top of everything else it was really rough.  I had several commitments in the evening which meant finding babysitters which is nice for the break but the act of finding them was contributing to my anxiety.  And then to top it off, the afternoon before daddy got home, the 3 year old did this:
IMG_20171214_154758 (2)

Then I started getting that dreadful cold I referred to earlier.  Happy birthday/ anniversary honey, I feel like death warmed over!  However, we did have tickets to the Nathan Pacheco concert for the day after the Birth-aversary.  At this point we were both sick but decided it was worth venturing out.  We went to a Thai restaurant right next to the Mesa Arts Center.  We got seated right away and our order was taken quickly and then we waited and waited and waited.  Eventually when I was already starting to get anxious that we were going to have to rush through our meal, our waitress came over to inform us that she had forgotten to put in our order.  She offered to put it in right away but it would be another 25 minutes.  No time for that so we got Subway for our romantic anniversary date.  The concert was AMAZING.  But, a mom and her teenage daughter sat in front of us.  For the first 3 songs, the mom, not the daughter, had her phone out constantly taking pictures and recording with her phone screen in my face.  PSA- this is technically illegal as it’s copyright infringement and there were signs posted, but it’s also really rude and distracting to the people behind you.  After the third song I leaned forward during the applause and tapped her on the shoulder and said, “I’m really sorry, but could you please keep your phone off, the light is really distracting.”  She responded, “Oh, my phone’s not on.”  “Well, it’s been on during the songs.”  Seriously??  Why was your first inclination to LIE?  You could have just said, “Oh, I’m sorry.”  Again, this was not the teenager, this was the 40 year old woman.  I could go on this rant for a while, but I’ll save that for another post.

We got to the car afterwards and headed towards my parents’ house to pick up the kids.  Now there’s this place along 202 Red Mountain Freeway where I have broken down several times in several different cars.  I’ve run out of oil, had a tire blow out, and run out of gas.  This stretch happens to have about 3 miles with no exits.  While in this stretch my car made a clunk noise and started losing speed and would not accelerate.  Got to the next exit and thought we would just turn into the nearest gas station, oh there aren’t any within 3 miles of the freeway there.  Managed to hop the car along the last 8 miles to my parents’ house.  They got it in to the dealer for me the next day and we discovered that it would cost more to fix than the worth of the car.  Something about spark plugs like exploding, I don’t really know much about cars, but bad things happened.

So needless to say I am kinda ending this year as a hot mess.

But, through all of this there have been amazing blessings and tender mercies.

Through all the ER and doctor’s visits, people have willingly and gladly stepped up and watched our children.  It’s hard to have had to ask for help so many times this year, but it’s beautiful to know that we have amazing friends, family, and a church family who will help us on a moment’s notice.

Discovering nodules in my thyroid was scary because I thought it might mean surgery, but it meant that I had to see a specialist instead of my primary care doctor.  The specialist immediately looked at me and said, “Let me guess, they keep telling you that you are ‘low side of normal’? Well, if you’re developing nodules then obviously that’s not good enough for you.”  I’ve literally been saying that for YEARS!  He suggested trying to up my meds in lieu of removing my thyroid.  I immediately started losing weight, the swelling in my thyroid has gone away, and the nodules are not growing- as long as they stay their current size they are fine.  So this medical problem ended up being a blessing in disguise.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about having the moles removed and not being able to lift for a week.  You don’t exactly get sick leave from your children.  As I was trying to figure out what on earth to do, my little brother ended up deciding to move back to Arizona to search for a job, which meant that he didn’t have a job yet when I had to have the procedure so he was able to come and be my nanny.  In general having him back has been a huge blessing to our little family.

And the mold/heater/car issue.  All of those right on top of each other.  People often ask, “Where is God?” when they go through a significant trial.  It’s hard to keep perspective and rarely are we given the opportunity to see how bad things COULD have been.  Not that we should constantly dwell on that while going through trials, but when He does help us with the perspective it can be very strengthening.

The mold issue was bad, and initially we weren’t sure if insurance would cover very much of it.  We were being faced with the possibility that this would decimate our savings.  Then our heater went out on top of that, which was a possibility for another $4k right there.  And on top of that the car was not sounding good.   We are pretty big savers and avoid debt as much as possible so this was really scary.  We talked it over and agreed that we would keep Christmas gifts really small as we couldn’t justify spending more money when we were so unsure of how things would work out.  I immediately felt a burden lifted realizing that I didn’t have to spend effort on finding gifts, and I did have a box of books in the closet that I had been saving so there would be at least some gifts for the kids.  Then we found out that heater was actually a very simple fix, only about $100 instead of $4k.  Then we found out that the insurance company was going to cover almost all of the mold/ water damage remediation.  We still have some out of pocket expenses but nothing compared to the total.  The car died close to my parents’ house and they work at the same school together so they were able to loan us one of their cars without any extreme inconvenience on their part.  And while we did have to get a loan for the new car, which was something we had hoped to avoid, it’s not the end of the world.  Plus we got to upgrade to a van which has already been a blessing on many occasions.

With this set of trials we have been able to see how devastating everything COULD have been, and yet at each turn it has turned into more of an inconvenience.   We have seen the hand of God helping us through.  Kind of like how that song wouldn’t have been as meaningful if I hadn’t been sick and emotional, if we hadn’t gone through these struggles we wouldn’t have necessarily recognized all of these blessings.

I’m grateful for the challenges because of the blessings they highlighted, I’m also grateful for the positive and fun things we experienced.  But overall, here’s to 2018 being far less interesting than 2017!

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.