Did God answer your prayer?

Some of you have asked for my talk I gave in church last week. I have included it below for those who wish to understand the most powerful lesson I have learned last year -and quite possibly ever. Thank you Elder Bednar, for changing my life.

I’d like to start my talk today by sharing a story of Elder Neal A. Maxwell, a beloved apostle of our church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). In 1997 Elder Maxwell was diagnosed with debilitating leukemia and underwent 46 days of chemotherapy. Those who have gone through such a trial only can imagine the weakening and incapacitating experience this must have been. Later that same year, he was assigned to speak at BYU-Idaho in Rexburg. As you can imagine, his physical strength and stamina were limited upon traveling up there, and Elder David A. Bednar who was the president of BYU-Idaho at the time had the opportunity to drive him around, and bring him to his house for a light lunch before he was to address the students before his devotional. In the course of their conversations, Elder Bednar asked Elder Maxwell what lessons he had learned through his illness. Elder Bednar says, “I will remember always the precise and penetrating answer he gave. “Dave,” he said, “I have learned that not shrinking is more important than surviving.”

D&C 19: 18 states, “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.”

Elder Maxwell did not shrink either. He allowed his will to be swallowed up in the will of the Father.

What does it mean to shrink? I have thought a lot about that story and wondered what is means. Why is not shrinking more important than surviving.” And how does this relate to personal testimony?

Let me share with you a personal experience. Many of you know our sweet William. But those of you who do not, let me briefly tell you his story. When I was 20 weeks pregnant with this sweet boy, I went into my level 2 ultra-sound with my husband, eagerly waiting as we discovered the gender of our baby. Our hopes for his future were bright, and we were anxious to get a glimpse at his tiny body on the overhead screen. The nurse quickly told us we were to be expecting another little boy and tears welled up in our eyes as we thought about him and our older son Cooper and the relationship they would share. After a while of trying to get a good look at our baby’s heart, the technician left and said she needed a doctor to get a better look. My husband and I tried to stay calm as the new doctor came in to take another look, and after a few minutes, he looked at us both and calmly said that our baby had a rather large sized hole in his heart, that he would need open-heart surgery after birth, and that this type of heart defect was common in babies with Down Syndrome. He asked if we had done any screenings or tests, and when we answered no, he suggested we do an amniocentesis to determine whether he had this genetic disorder.  We agreed, and one week later we went into the hospital for the amnio and got the results days later which confirmed the Down Syndrome. 

This was the scariest day of my life. Not only because my son had Down Syndrome, something that I knew nothing about, but also because of his heart defect, and the surgery and complications that would ensue. We had just under 20 weeks to prepare for his arrival. We met with doctors, specialists, genetic advisors and physicians.  I had numerous ultra-sounds, echos, and blood work done. We spoke with families that had children with Down Syndrome. I researched the schools, Medicaid, we did Buddy Walks and I read countless books. My husband and I went to the temple, we prayed together, we had family fasts, we read our scriptures and paid our tithing. We did absolutely everything in our power to prepare ourselves for the arrival of this sweet boy. In my mind, and from talking with doctors and those who had similar experiences, we had anticipated that William would be in the hospital for about 7 days after his birth, and then would come home for 6-9 months before he went back in for surgery. And then at 39 weeks and on January 14^th 2013, our little William was born. I had a chance to hold him briefly before they swept him away to the NICU. The list of problems started immediately. He was incubated because of his inability to hold his temperature. He wasn’t eating and so they put a feeding tube up his nose. He was put on oxygen because he wasn’t breathing well. He started losing weight. And a host of other things happened as well. I asked myself, “Why is this happening? I have done everything I am supposed to do. I believe in miracles. I believe in the Priesthood and the healing power of it. Why is he not coming home?” Week after week these questions buried me, and I had a difficult time understanding the will of the Lord. “Doesn’t he want to heal William? Isn’t this a worthy desire?” My prayers “seemed” to be answered when the nurses finally told us after 5 weeks that William could go home. Dan and I could hardly sleep the night before, eagerly awaiting his arrival home. As we were about to leave our house to go pick him up, I heard my phone ring and answered it. It was the nurse saying that William had spiked a fever of 105 and that he was not coming home after all. Later that day and night his fever spiked to nearly 108 and it landed him in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. At the time we did not know what was happening, but a few weeks later tests revealed that he had come down with RSV and his little heart was taking a toll as his body was trying to fight the virus.

While going through this I thought, “Why didn’t the Lord prevent this? Again, I believe in miracles, I have prayed so hard for him to come home and this is something the Lord could have prevented.” Questions like these bothered me because I felt like I had been forgotten. Maybe Elder Maxwell would have said that I was beginning to shrink. William came home after nearly 8 weeks in the hospital, but the months that followed were anything but smooth. Over the course of 9 months, we had 5 more hospital visits. His transition into this world was very rough, and I almost daily asked myself what I was doing wrong. My testimony and everything that I had learned up until that point had been questioned. I had always heard stories about people losing their keys, praying to find them, and then miraculously being led to find them under the couch.  I remembered my own experience of being locked out of my house when I was little and the miracle of getting back inside. I believed in angels and the First Vision. But I was struggling to understand why that was not happening for me. I was doing everything. Isn’t it “Ask and ye shall receive” “Knock and it shall be opened” I was asking and knocking and asking and knocking some more, but these righteous desires were not given. But why not? Maybe it was because I wasn’t Sheri Dew, or Elder Holland or someone important. But I had always been taught that God is no respecter of persons… and that he loves all men alike. That he does not favor one over the other, and that he answers all prayers. But I felt my prayers had not been answered. My best friend at that time was having a hard time with the same thing. She felt inspired to buy a house in a certain neighborhood, and then was unable to sell her other house. She was paying her tithing. She was reading her scriptures. She was living a “righteous life.” Shouldn’t she be entitled to those blessings? As a missionary, I would challenge investigators to read and pray about the Book of Mormon to know for themselves whether the church was true.  It was a promise that the Lord made… that “by the power of the Holy Ghost, ye may know the truth of all things” (Moroni 10:5). And many times these investigators prayed and said they didn’t receive answers. And another friend at the time was struggling with different points of Mormon Doctrine. They were points that did not sit well with her and she was praying for answers but she said none came. It seemed like during this period in my life, I’d come to church and hear speakers or teachers tell stories when they received the answer that they prayed for, and that miraculously they received their answer. Yet I wondered what those speakers would say had they not received the answer they prayed for. What then? Would they still acknowledge their prayer was answered?

All these questions, and thoughts were nearly drowning my spiritual progression when one day, William woke up and I could tell he was having a difficulty breathing. I called the cardiologist and took him in for a visit a few hours later. She took a look at his heart and realized he was going into heart failure. She told me to get back in the car, and drive him to the hospital. I asked if we should call an ambulance. She said I could get there quicker if I just left now. And so I did. But I hit terrible traffic. William was screaming in the back of my car, and I was trapped. I couldn’t console him, I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t even get out of the car to hold him because the traffic was so bad. I came to a fork in the road and I had to choose which way to the hospital. As tears streamed down my face, I said a prayer out loud, pleading for the Lord to tell me which way to go. There was no prompting. I chose one way, and it turned out to be awful. I realized the other way was better, and it then took me 10 minutes to just turn around, all while little William was screaming in the back. I thought he was going to die. I prayed for the Lord to turn my car into a hover craft… to fly me to the hospital. That didn’t happen. I prayed for all the stoplights to turn green, but they all turned red. I prayed for the crazy lady in front of me to hurry up and pay the teller in the parking garage and get into the parking deck. But she had no money. I prayed to find a parking spot close to the hospital, and there were none. I was told not to go to the ER, but someone would be waiting for me on the Pediatric Floor. And so finally once I parked the car, I ran and grabbed William and raced into the hospital. My face as well as William’s wet with tears, we ran inside and the doctors and nurses took over. It was then shortly decided he would go in early for open-heart surgery. He was only 10 lbs, and his heart was the size of a walnut. I was grateful that he made it to the hospital, but I couldn’t understand why my prayers were not answered. William went in for surgery, which went well, but had many subsequent problems afterwards which I won’t go into. But it was this experience that tested my testimony more than others. I needed help more than ever, and I felt like I had not received it. What was I doing wrong? I was doing everything in my power. I went through deep introspection during this time. What do I really believe? I searched for answers. I didn’t like the answer that, “It was for me to learn a lesson.” I didn’t believe that the Lord would inflict pain on a pure spirit to teach me a lesson. And if he did, then I felt worse because of it. Maybe my lack of faith and testimony is the reason for William’s suffering. What am I doing wrong?

Have any of you felt like this before? I thought about Joseph Smith in Liberty Jail, exasperated and desperate. The saints were being persecuted and he was powerless and helpless. He was doing everything right… like a good Mormon should do. He was trying his best, yet he asked, “Oh God, where art Thou.” Even the Savior, in his time of ultimate pain and grief called out to the Father saying “Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me;” According to modern revelation, we learn that at this point in time, Heavenly Father had completely withdrawn himself from Jesus, and left him utterly alone. He had always enjoyed a close companionship of this Father’s spirit, yet when he most needed it, it was not there. (Brigham Young, Journal of Discourses 3:205-6)

Also during this time, I stumbled upon a talk by Elder Bednar that has changed my life. He tells a story about a couple who were recently married. The husband John, was diagnosed with bone cancer three weeks after his wedding, and given a 30% chance of survival. As they asked Elder Bednar to come counsel with them and give a priesthood blessing, Elder Bednar said that he felt impressed to ask them a few questions. He said “John, do you have the faith not to be healed? If it is the will of our Heavenly Father that you are transferred by death in your youth to the spirit world to continue your ministry, do you have the faith to submit to his will and not be healed? After taking the necessary time to ponder my inquiries and to talk with his wife, John said to me: “Elder Bednar, I do not want to die. I do not want to leave Heather. But if the will of the Lord is to transfer me to the spirit world, then I guess I am good with that.” My heart swelled with appreciation and admiration as I witnessed this young couple confront the most demanding of all spiritual struggles –the submissive surrender of their wills to God’s will” (That We Might “Not Shrink” D&C 19:18).

While there are many things I do not know, there are some things which I absolutely know. One of them is that God loves us. And because of that, His Will is always the best. Let me repeat that. His Will is always the best –it is intended to bring us the most happiness and joy. But the catch and the trick of it all, is that often times it does not make sense to our mortal minds. And that is exactly where faith and testimony come into play.

I had been praying for a certain outcome for William. My best friend had been praying to sell her house, and my other girlfriend had been praying to receive a sign about a point of doctrine. All good things. All righteous things. And yet, none of them were God’s will. But why not? How could that be? And therein lies, I believe, one of the most challenging trials of life. I’m sure Abraham wondered why the Lord asked him to sacrifice his son, Isaac. He had waited so long for him to be born. And I can’t imagine what his wife Sarah must have been going through. Abraham’s story has a happy ending, but what about Abinidi? He absolutely had the faith to not survive. And so I then asked myself, what would I have done had William not survived? What if my best friend never sold her house? What if my other girlfriend never got the peace she was looking for over this point of doctrine? And Elder Maxwell asked himself the same question, “Can I not “shrink” during this trial?” If William’s heart had failed and he died in the car to the hospital that day, would I have still kept my covenants? Would I still have read my scriptures? Would I still have kept my testimony and faith? Saying it is one thing, but doing and believing it are completely different.

The following is an excerpt from the same talk by Elder Bednar. He writes this in the words of John.

“Up until that point, I had a hard time reconciling the need for faith in Christ with the inevitability of His will. I saw them as two separate things, and sometimes felt that one contradicted the other. ‘Why should I have faith if His will ultimately is what will prevail,’ I asked? After this experience, I knew that having faith—at least in my circumstance—was not necessarily knowing that He would heal me, but that He could heal me. I had to believe that He could, and then whether it happened was up to Him.

“As I allowed those two ideas to coexist in my life, focused faith in Jesus Christ and complete submission to His will, I found greater comfort and peace. It has been so remarkable to see the Lord’s hand in our lives. Things have fallen into place, miracles have happened, and we continually are humbled to see God’s plan for us unfold.”

I repeat for emphasis John’s statement: “As I allowed those two ideas to coexist in my life, focused faith in Jesus Christ and complete submission to His will, I found greater comfort and peace.”

Righteousness and faith certainly are instrumental in moving mountains—if moving mountains accomplishes God’s purposes and is in accordance with His will. Righteousness and faith certainly are instrumental in healing the sick, deaf, or lame—if such healing accomplishes God’s purposes and is in accordance with His will. Thus, even with strong faith, many mountains will not be moved. And not all of the sick and infirm will be healed. If all opposition were curtailed, if all maladies were removed, then the primary purposes of the Father’s plan would be frustrated.”

I do not know why God heals some by their faith and others he does not. I do not profess to know the meaning of all things. But I will not let the things that I do not know, affect the things that I do know. One of them is that God loves us. That we are his children. And the Lord’s Will is always the best. I am grateful that the Savior, in his most desperate moment in the Garden of Gethsemane, when he asked that the cup be removed from him said, “nevertheless not my will, but thine be done.” It wasn’t easy for the Savior of the world. He had to drink from the bitter cup –and he absolutely did not shrink. And if I am to be his disciple and follower, how dare I ask it to be easy for me, when it was never easy for Him. In my experience and through it all, I add my testimony to John’s that when I allow the two ideas of faith that the Lord CAN help me, but also complete submission to his will, I have found greater comfort and peace.

I hope one day to know the meaning of all things, but until then, I will walk by faith.

 Lindsay