Even unuttered prayers get answered

Remember when I wrote that parable post three months ago about the Steri-strips not hurting if they get ripped off fast? I said then that I thought ripping things off fast was still painful. But maybe I was wrong because this slow removal of the strips is killing me.

 

It's been three months today since we said our goodbyes. People have done far worse and for much longer. I wish that brought me more comfort. Tonight my heart is heavy because I am currently going through the longest period of time with zero contact. The not knowing and the wondering is what is killing me. Trying to keep a stiff upper lip in front of my littles is proving to be difficult, but I am doing it. Darn the shower and late nights because that's the only time I am by myself and that's when I am not as strong as I should be. 

The other day I had to take Makenna to the doctor. I had been putting it off because I feel like I have so much "experience" taking care of my Marcus all these years and his respiratory ailments, but she wasn't getting better. After four nights of very little sleep (think middle of the night breathing treatments for one baby and nursing another simultaneously), I had reached my end. We drove up to the base and saw the doctor. It ended up that she had pneumonia in her right lung, and a pretty big spot of it at that. She had to have an x-ray, so the military doc (who is about as kind as they come) sent me to an adjacent office on base where they do radiology. When I walked up to the window the lab tech took one look at me and then at my baby in my arms (who has to go with me pretty much everywhere because I am her source of nourishment), and said they couldn't do an x-ray on Makenna because she was too young to be alone. I told her I would go in with her and she said no because I had the baby. I said I would just put her outside the door in her car seat asleep and she would be fine. Again, no, that wasn't allowed. "Well what would you have me do then?" I asked, trying to get her to be a bit more flexible. Surely I wasn't the first person who ever came with a small baby and another child in tow. "Well, can't you just call your spouse to come and sit with the baby?" Her words stung me to my core. I felt the burning sensation in my eyes and the lump getting larger in my throat. "No, I can't just call him." And then my voice cracked and the tears flowed as I told her where he was. (Shocker. We were on a military base.) She asked if I had someone, and I explained that I was alone and had no one and was 35 minutes from my sister's house. She rolled her eyes --oh yes, she did-- and said she would go ask the doctor what he wanted to do. I excused myself to the bathroom and hid in a stall while Makenna rocked Maegan in the car seat and I sobbed. And sobbed. And sobbed. (Thankfully a kind woman in the lobby saw my plight and offered to sit with the baby. And when I got back to the doctor's office he was so upset and so apologetic that had happened. He said she should have glanced down at my chart to see the big old capital D for deployment, but she didn't.) Makenna is getting better, but I've not been able to completely pull myself out of the pain that whole experience and absolute feeling of aloneness caused me.
 

With General Conference coming up, my heart is turning more towards prayerful and heartfelt pondering, as I prepare for what the Lord needs to tell me through the mouths of His holy prophets. Last night we had the wonderful Women's meeting where the women from our faith all over the world gathered to be instructed together. As I was thinking about it this past week I wondered if I dare pray that someone could say something to offer me comfort as a military wife. Surely the events of the week had just about done me in. But, I will be honest. I didn't actually offer the prayer, though it was surely in my heart. Last week at the re-dedication services of the Ogden Temple, another unuttered but heartfelt prayer was answered when one of the sisters that spoke talked about military service, separation, and comfort that comes from the Lord. I was amazed then and surely didn't expect to have an un-offered prayer answered twice. Truthfully I didn't dare offer it because I felt a bit selfish asking for something that shouldn't be as difficult as I am making it.

 

But my Father knows me. He loves me. He knows my heart and spoke directly to it.

 

Sister Jean Stevens stood and spoke about the strength and power that comes from keeping covenants. (Which was ironic to me since that's the subject I had to speak on in Stake Conference a few weeks before my husband left. Surely the Lord was telling me something back then, too.) She shared the example of her beautiful mother who went without any type of fanfare for her wedding so she could send her husband on a mission. They were apart for two years, just six days after they married.

 

She said:

 

Their clear focus was on the temple and their covenants. For them, the covenants were everything….Their marriage was more than just the deep love they had for each other. They also had a love of the Lord and a desire to serve Him. The sacred temple covenants they had made gave them strength and power to carry them through the two years of separation. They had an eternal perspective of life’s purpose and of promised blessings that come to those who are faithful to their covenants. All these blessings transcended their short term sacrifice and separation.

Oh, how my heart was humbled! Three months vs. two years? Yeah, I haven't been asked to do something that difficult. I felt the Lord's love speak to me as I listened to what she said. I knew the Lord had heard the prayer in my heart and was satisfied with what I heard.

But then she said this:

Three years later WW2 was raging.... He was away from home for four more years while serving in the Navy. It was a difficult time for my parents to be separated again. But for my mother those days of loneliness, worry, and uncertainty were also marked by whisperings of the Spirit that spoke of eternal promises, of comfort and peace amid the storm. Despite her challenges, my mother lived a rich life full of happiness, joy, love, and service. Her love of the Savior was reflected in the way she lived her life. She had a remarkable connection to heaven and a gift and capacity to love and bless everyone around her. In all the seasons of her life, they were marked by her love of the Lord and the covenants she faithfully kept.

I couldn't believe it. And yet, I could believe it. He had heard the prayer in my heart and spoke directly to me in my time of serious need as a military wife. In addition to needing comfort on that subject, I had actually prayed that during all these sessions of conference (including the women's session), I would learn how to be a better mother and a better wife to my husband when he returns. So not only did the Lord answer the prayer in my heart, He answered the one that I gave vocally as well.

This short season of my life is ending soon, and I will be a better person for having been through it. I want to be one of those strong women who can do pretty much anything and do it well. For now that's not me. But I'm taking good notes so that the next time this happens, I will be better prepared.  (Because it will happen. Thankfully, however, I won't have a tiny baby to take care of when it does, nor will I be in school full time, homeschooling my other kids, or living out of a suitcase in someone else's home.)  For now I will cling to those covenants and promises, and relish in the blessings and answered prayers my Father continues to give me. (And stay away from all civilian lab-techs, too.)