Sunday, April 20, 2014
We were asked to speak in church on Easter Sunday. I spent a lot of time preparing exactly what I wanted to say and typed it all out so I could just stand up, read it, and sit back down. Just before I finished speaking, I felt that I should share an experience. I let fear take over and didn't share. I have been kicking myself over this for the past couple weeks. So I decided I would put it on my blog and, hopefully, I will stop worrying about it.
My son Ben was born with a heart defect. He had to have heart surgery when he was a baby. About a week before the surgery, Josh and I went to the Temple. As I sat in the Celestial Room waiting for Josh, I began to pray. I was pleading with my Heavenly Father to fix my baby. To heal him so that he didn't have to have surgery. A thought came to my mind: "Not my will, but THINE." I realized that, in that moment, I was doing what the Savior did in Gethsemane. I was saying "Take this cup from me, it's just too hard, I can't do it." I then realized that I had to let go and trust God.
On the day of the Surgery, we went to Primary Children's Hospital very early in the morning. After filling out all the paper work and a bunch of labs and tests and everything, a guy came to us and said he was the anesthesiologist and would be taking care of Ben for the whole day. He explained what was going to happen and answered our questions and then led us down a hallway. We came to these big doors that said "Authorized Personnel Only." I don't remember exactly what the anesthesiologist guy said but basically he was letting us know that we couldn't go any further.
I hugged my baby, handed him to this guy I had just met and watched them disappear behind the big doors. I watched them go knowing that they were going to hurt him. Knowing that he was going to be scared. Knowing that I couldn't be there with him or do it for him. And knowing that it had to happen.
In that moment, I think I experienced a glimpse of what our Heavenly Father felt when he sent his beloved son here. Knowing that he would be hurt, humiliated, and tortured beyond anything I could possibly imagine. Knowing that he couldn't be there with him, or do it for him. And knowing, that it HAD to happen.
I know it sounds crazy but I can honestly say that I am grateful to have been given that trial. I am truly thankful that my son was born with a heart condition and had to have that surgery. I am thankful because of the way it brought us closer, both as a family, and to our Heavenly Father. I'm thankful for what I learned by being forced to trust God. I am grateful for the blessings of the atonement and for all that my Savior and Heavenly Father did and sacrificed for me.