That Frail Thing Called Hope...

I know that I've already posted this one on my facebook, but I thought it was good enough to deserve a re-post here, where it can reach a wider audience. I wrote this about a two years ago, so the events in it area little dated, but I think that it's applicable to a lot in life.

Now then, before I begin this writing, I'll let you all know that I'm feeling particularly verbose, so be prepared. Some of this rests on cliche's but I want to send a message out to everyone who's ever felt that the night is too long, or that the road is too rocky.

Sometimes in this life we have a tendency to see the dark pit that is our life as we see it and despair. We fear that we aren't good enough for the trials that we face and we feel as though there is no hope for the future and what it holds. We see tomorrow as only a prolonged painful experience that we will never fully conquer. We see the happiness of those around us and wonder why we are so lost and what we are doing wrong. I am talking about those nights where an evil presence is our closest companion and it seems that we can't seem to get out of the black stupor that has come upon us. I've been there, many many times.

Over the course of this last year I've been met with a lot, my whole family has, in fact these past few years have been something close to disastrous. First we have the situation of that angelic presence known as Whitney and her disabling disease. That sweet little girl that did nothing to deserve such a lot in this life. The disease caught everyone in the family off guard. We couldn't believe that such a thing could happen, not in this perfect life. I remember worrying about my brother and his wife and family. How would they deal with such a burden as this sickness would be?

Then we faced the loss of two loved family members, that of our Uncle Don, and Grandpa McBride. Two giants that had been staples in our lives while we had been growing up. Both of their deaths were surprises and we weren't expecting either of them to be taken so quickly from us. We faced our first real moments of staring into the eternities and the first moments of having something truly beyond our control. Something final that caused us to shake and brought that darkness even closer to our doorsteps it would seem. Something that really brought the reality of death into at the very least my life. I can't speak for my siblings in this regard, for I don't know their experiences. But I do know that it was a tough and trying time.

Our Mom passed away almost a year ago now. Those were dark days, despair seemed to settle over my life. It was at a very crucial point in my life, too. I had just set out into the academic world and was first experiencing my own independance outside of the mission. I remember the days following this sad event, the dark nights of wondering, the outright denials on my part, and the absolute bewilderment I felt as to my lack of happiness. I seemed miserable all the time. I sat in my dank prison cel of self-pity, wondering where the daylight that had graced me throughout my life had gone. We had lost an angel from amongst us, and I felt that loss. It was heart breaking. I remember at the funeral as I watched my brothers and sisters with their families, their loved ones, and I felt so utterly alone. I saw my two best friends, each with their beautiful wives (or soon to be wives in that case) and how happy they seemed to be, and I felt isolated and utterly alone in those moments. Alone like I'd never felt before in my life... What had I done wrong? What had I done to deserve such a punishment?

All at once, that picturesque setting that had defined my family's life crumbled and died. Suddenly those things that we hear about in Ensign articles and in the movies was happening to us. Our lives had suddenly lost that stable enviorenment that we had grown so accustomed to. Our entire perspective on things was forced to change and we were forced to adapt to confront these new challenges. There was so much in that small amount of time, all of this ocurring within the last three years. So little time compared to the rest of our lives, even in my relatively short experience here on life, this seemed like an awful lot in one round to take. So what is it that keeps us going?

An answer was given to me by a friend as we talked one night, which turned out to be a shaft of light that penetrated the dark that had encompassed me in my grief. She asked me a simple question that has changed my perspective: "Have you given up hope?" I realized in that moment that I had discarded it, fearing in to hold on to it lest I be disappointed yet again. All my hope had been destroyed in the past wave of pain that had hit me. I realized that I was afraid to protect my hope, I was afraid that it would "betray" me again. What that question made me realize was that my hope hadn't been betrayed, only tested, and I had been found wanting.

That moment of clarity burst through those clouds of misery and gloom that had gathered on my horizon. I saw the pit that I had dug for myself. For just a minute I could see the way out. Since then I've been struggling to make my way out. I have been met with many disappointments as I've done so, but I see now that each day truly is something special. I have hope that death is not the end, that Mom is still there waiting for me, coaxing me to do better. She stands as a beacon for all of us to move forward. I see the wonderful being that my niece is, that all of the little ones in our family are. I see how wonderful and blessed our family is. Each little giggle from them is a gift, and a preview to what is ahead. Beyond the mountains that loom in the distance, and over the rivers and woods we have yet to traverse there is a beautiful place waiting for us. Mom is here to help us, she stands to give us a hand up and she's there to cheer us on, just as she's always been. She still loves us and she's still aware of us.

Our families are a wonderful blessing, and are a prelude, not a finale, to what this life has to offer. Everyone has had those moments of clarity where the clouds part and we're allowed to see, really see what lies ahead. We're given a glimpse into the eternities and we know that this is not the end. The problem is that the clouds roll back into place and the gloom comes back as the wear and tear of climbing over obstacles and mountains. We grow fatigued and lose sight of what we have seen and felt. The rain falls on us and we grow cold, and wet, and weary. We don't care about what lies ahead.

As for me, there are days when I want to throw my hope aside again. Sometimes it just feels too heavy to keep carrying. I want to give up and crawl in some cave and take refuge and stop worrying about it. But then there are those days when the sun shines, and the birds sing and I'm reminded of those beautiful days that I sat on the deck and just talked with Mom as she pointed out the beauties around me. The same way she did for all of us. There's days when I have my friends and family around me to bear me up, like angels that they are. Each of us helping the other, the way it should be. It's those days that I know Mom is watching us and smiling, her eyes filled with those happy tears that we all know the feel of. I love those days, and they make the dark days bearable. Because in the end, those gray storms and overcast days are the temporary settings. Some day in the not too distant future we'll be able to bask in the eternal sunshine that we came to enjoy through Mom's instruction and we will be glad that we didn't discard our hope along the way. We just have to keep pushing along for now....