As I contemplated writing this series, I knew that this would be the hardest post to articulate.
Surprising as it may sound coming from the mother of many children, we suffered multiple times through secondary infertility. I learned patience and reliance on God. I learned to be happy with my circumstances. I took medicine and we kept charts, and I thought this would be the big trial of my life.
When my fifth child, my third daughter, was born still on September 10, 2002, I knew I would never be the same again.
As personal and private as that experience was, her premature arrival and immediate departure is the benchmark in my life--the time that marks moving from sympathy to empathy, from knowledge to wisdom. From easy to impossible. Now I knew what pain was. I knew suffering. I now knew what it was like to question the belief in a loving Father in Heaven, because why would He allow me to suffer in such a way?
It took months of soul-searching and prayer, months of agony and healing before I felt right with God again, before I felt normal again. But I had crossed into a new normal, a place that, while I had been unwilling to enter, I can look back on that time in my life as the time when I experienced my greatest growth as a human being.
Not only did I have the paradigm-changing experience of losing a child, but that experience brought a new realization to me. I could find answers to my questions in the scriptures. As horrible as I was feeling, there was always comfort between their pages. Always answers. Always hope.
That's when I recognized what I really wanted to do was share my new-found wisdom with others. I was asked to teach a class on the scriptures in my Church, and I discovered amazing truths buried in the stories I studied. I invested hours and hours studying and preparing and when I stood in front of a group, I hoped that the principles I had learned would be translated to their hearts as I spoke.
I began teaching at Especially for Youth each summer, thriving on the preparation and the energy I felt from the young people I taught. I was asked to teach the young women of our ward, then asked to teach the adults of our stake. I found fulfillment and power through the study and the academic/spiritual interaction I had with my students.
This was my next challenge, and I tackled it with all my energy. This was what I had been searching for since my spotlight-stealing days as a child. This was what I had wanted when I played Annie Sullivan in "The Miracle Worker," or when I trumped another team during a debate. This was my nectar, my joy. Motherhood is where my legacy will play out. Teaching is my passion.
I am so lucky that they go hand in hand, these joys of mine.
Surprising as it may sound coming from the mother of many children, we suffered multiple times through secondary infertility. I learned patience and reliance on God. I learned to be happy with my circumstances. I took medicine and we kept charts, and I thought this would be the big trial of my life.
When my fifth child, my third daughter, was born still on September 10, 2002, I knew I would never be the same again.
As personal and private as that experience was, her premature arrival and immediate departure is the benchmark in my life--the time that marks moving from sympathy to empathy, from knowledge to wisdom. From easy to impossible. Now I knew what pain was. I knew suffering. I now knew what it was like to question the belief in a loving Father in Heaven, because why would He allow me to suffer in such a way?
It took months of soul-searching and prayer, months of agony and healing before I felt right with God again, before I felt normal again. But I had crossed into a new normal, a place that, while I had been unwilling to enter, I can look back on that time in my life as the time when I experienced my greatest growth as a human being.
Not only did I have the paradigm-changing experience of losing a child, but that experience brought a new realization to me. I could find answers to my questions in the scriptures. As horrible as I was feeling, there was always comfort between their pages. Always answers. Always hope.
That's when I recognized what I really wanted to do was share my new-found wisdom with others. I was asked to teach a class on the scriptures in my Church, and I discovered amazing truths buried in the stories I studied. I invested hours and hours studying and preparing and when I stood in front of a group, I hoped that the principles I had learned would be translated to their hearts as I spoke.
I began teaching at Especially for Youth each summer, thriving on the preparation and the energy I felt from the young people I taught. I was asked to teach the young women of our ward, then asked to teach the adults of our stake. I found fulfillment and power through the study and the academic/spiritual interaction I had with my students.
This was my next challenge, and I tackled it with all my energy. This was what I had been searching for since my spotlight-stealing days as a child. This was what I had wanted when I played Annie Sullivan in "The Miracle Worker," or when I trumped another team during a debate. This was my nectar, my joy. Motherhood is where my legacy will play out. Teaching is my passion.
I am so lucky that they go hand in hand, these joys of mine.
First, thank you for always sharing your life's journey so honestly.
ReplyDeleteThis post reminds me of my own defining moments in life--especially when my special needs son was born. When he came into this world, my blissful ignorance left in the same moment and I've never been the same young woman since that day. I see with different eyes, the things that matter most. Wisdom is usually hardwon thru trials. It isn't free or easy to come by, but it certainly adds a purity to life that, unless you've paid the price, you really are ignorant to. Thanks, Jen.
I have loved reading this series of yours...thanks so much for sharing it. I'm sure it was hard to write...but you did it beautifully.
ReplyDeleteAnyone who has heard you teach knows it is a special gift you have been given. It is always good to know what our gifts are so we can expand on them. I wish teaching was one of my gifts.
ReplyDeleteGod always makes things work out.
ReplyDeleteI appreciate your sharing an experience that is so close to your heart, Jen. This one resonated particularly with me because my realization that the scriptures truly brought answers to prayer also arrived at the biggest low point in my life, when my faith was tested as never before.
ReplyDeleteI wish I could hear you teach, and I love the glimpses I get to see of you as a mother.
=)
You are a strong woman. I don't know that God gives the hardest trials to the strongest people. He obviously knows us better than we know ourselves.
ReplyDeleteYou are a wonderful example as a mother and a child of God. Thank you for sharing your story with us. Well done.
You are a strong woman. I don't know that God gives the hardest trials to the strongest people. He obviously knows us better than we know ourselves.
ReplyDeleteYou are a wonderful example as a mother and a child of God. Thank you for sharing your story with us. Well done.
I love your classes. I miss your classes. I am thankful you discovered your passion.
ReplyDeleteI kinda wish you were a decade older, just so we'd get another post!
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ReplyDeleteMany people go right into old age without the joy of having the two come together - the gift and the passion.
ReplyDelete