Correction: There's Nothing "Proportional" About It

In which our Heroine corrects Herself. 

My most popular blog post ever is the one from soon after surgery on Sept 14, 2010 entitled In Proportion: Some Spiritual Truths About Burning Brightly.  Feeling curious, I decided to read it again tonight.  After all, my memory is bad and I needed a refresher.  Here’s a little reminder for you:

“…After the surgery, and during a short time when I was re-establishing my faith, I felt I’d lost my ability to burn brightly.  (Though truthfully, it may not be possible to do this when on opiates.)  I wondered if I would ever be able to burn like that again.  I’m happy to say that I feel I can.  In fact, I feel that I can do it even better or more brightly now.  It is possible that I have learned a new universal truth: that when a covenant-keeping person loses a physical health, the Father will generously compensate by offering spiritual strength, even in proportion to that which was lost.  Would a loving Heavenly Father leave us one-armed (so to speak) in a trying situation that frankly requires two arms?  No. He is not a small or a mean God.  As far as the "in proportion" idea, I have no quotes from any general authorities to support this—it is just what I feel about my particular situation.  I invite you to do the research for me if you feel so inclined. 

“At one point in my struggles, I was also wondering why my honoring my covenants and following the word of wisdom had not protected my physical health more.  Of course, wisdom dictates that trials still come, but I wondered how I would ever be able to sit in a Young Women class and learn about the Word of Wisdom without scoffing a little about its simplistic a+b=c equation.  Well, along with a few other truths which I plan to share along the way, the above-mentioned idea is key to answering my spiritual dilemma.” 

I have two thoughts.

1.       I was wrong about the in proportion idea.  I recognize now that the blessings Heavenly Father gives to those who suffer are far greater than the idea of equality as I expressed in the phrase “in proportion.”  As I look back and see how much I’ve gained from this terrifying experience, I recognize that a “proportionate” amount of blessings is feeble in contrast to what I’ve actually received.  After regaining at least 95% of my physical health back so far, plus a wealth of spiritual blessings in things like gratitude, faith, wisdom, and patience, I now know that God gives an unquantifiable amount back before, during, and after the ordeal.  All I had to do was ask Him, and he did it—though admittedly on his own time schedule. 

2.       Looking back, I am struck with the revelation that my life up until this year was too easy.  There is an important truth here in this simple comment.  How can we ever hope to grow to be better people without some sort of trial?  It makes sense if you think of gaining a talent at something like running.  At first, the warm-up laps alone seem tortuous.  Then they become easier.  Sometimes you get sore, sometimes your muscles will even feel like they're burning.  You get thirsty, and uncomfortable in your own sweat and possibly body odor.  It is not a pretty picture, really.  And there is some pain involved in the conditioning.  However, when all is said and done, there’s the good chance that you’ll be in better shape.  And the perk is that you can enjoy yourself more on a hike or a bike-ride, or even significantly improve your health.   If you never have to feel the burn, then you’ll never get to the point where you can reap the benefits.  Everything was so easy for me—nearly perfect home and family life growing up, good health, easy times with schooling and my social life over all.  It seems that I hardly even had small trials that made small bumps in my life—and I think Heavenly Father must have given me a great deal of help through even those small bumps in the road.  I’m a lazy person, so when things get easy, I just stop trying as hard and let life pass me by.  As I learned at church from my Stake President (church leader) today: Going through tough times allows us to gain certain attributes that will in turn lead us to reap great blessings.  During hard times, we should seek out teaching moments to allow for growth.  If you have to go through it anyway, then may it at least end up being worth-while.  Trials will happen no matter what.  That’s life.  It is up to us to decide how we will grow from them. 

Lives of Privilege and Ease

In which our Heroine recognizes within Herself the Ability to be an Escape Artist

I would not use the word ease to describe my experiences over the past month.  However, the privileged part seems to apply quite well.  If a person has to go through something very difficult, there is no better way to do it than to have the help and support of hundreds.  Hey, let’s face it.  It could have been much worse.  Also, in the past few days, I feel I’ve been the recipient of a free get out of jail card.  No chemo and radiation?  Boo-yah, a free ride through cancer-land, and hopefully for a good long time.  Jon was being humorous when he said Friday evening, “Well, there goes your support,” in response to my “I’m the girl that cried wolf,” blog.  I am happy to say that by all indications at church today, my support continues unhampered.  Thank you all.  And thanks to God for how very gentle this trial has been for this period.  Yes, it was shocking, and we were absolutely blindsided—but to have such moments of enlightenment and joy in the midst of this has been a great comfort. Also, I have never felt so loved in my life as I do currently.  My particular cancerous experiences are surely nicer than others must be—a  cancer of the privileged. 

There are experiences all throughout my life that consistently exhibit the privileged positions I’ve been in.   I will share my favorite.  As a background (not my favorite part of the story), my biological father left my family while I was but a babe in the womb.  My poor overwhelmed and pregnant mother and bereft brothers, aged 14, 13, and 8 were left to fend on their own, with no money in the bank account but some excellent food storage and a loving extended and ward family. 

When I was in high school, I asked my mom if my birth and infancy had been too terribly difficult to deal with at a time such as that.  She sucked her breath into her mouth in surprise and said something like, “Oh no, you were never a burden.  You gave us great joy in a very dark time.”  Then, to make me believe it, because teenagers never trust in their own magnificence, she told me how on the day she brought me home from the hospital, driving the car herself, that my oldest brother, Mike, stopped the car before it could pull into the driveway and got me, his newborn little sister out of the car and carried me to the house.  The (I’m sure) heavily embroidered tale continues that he would not let me out of his arms all day long. I cannot tell you how truthful this account really is.  I come from a family of resplendent story-tellers, who exaggerate much and to great effect.  Naturally, I have no memory of this day.  However, it had its desired effect: I have since felt so loved and even privileged, despite the desperate circumstances surrounding my family at the time of my birth. 

I have memories of each of my brothers playing with me, being very gentle, kind, patient, and funny.  As a small child, I learned ZZ Top songs at Mike and Bryce’s tutelage because I spent so much time near them.  And somehow my brother Todd still loves me despite my constant tattling and, shall I say it, glory-stealing.  He was once the youngest, you know. 

My whole life has been a pattern of good things and gentle parenting from those in charge of me.  This is one of the reasons why I was so shocked by the news that I had cancer.  Me?  Cancer?  Glug, glug, went my brain.  This is not the way things usually work.  I had developed my own patterns of doing things by the book and with obedience, and therefore was getting used to being dealt with easily and even systematically by parents and also by Heavenly Father.   The sudden turn of events last week tells me that I am still given a gentle hand.  Once more, Tara escapes hardship!  May I continue to do so.  What have I lost so far?  A little time with my left arm maybe, and a strip of nerves on the top of my head from where I was scalped.  What have I gained?  Gratitude for many things.  An appreciation for the small things in life.  An altered perspective.  I hope a kind of wisdom.  A chance to mature and grow in ways specific to me.  Better, deeper friendships.  Closer and more meaningful family ties.  A chance to share my story.  The equation comes out in my favor, doesn’t it?  Not bad. 

To wax very biblical: Isaiah 54: 7—“for a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee.”  Also, Psalms 40: 1-3—“I waited patiently for the Lord; and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry.  He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings.  And he hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God: many shall see it, and fear, and shall trust in the Lord.”