A Beautiful Soul

Like everything I've posted on this blog, this is something I've started to write it and then stopped, second guessed myself, decided not to publish it.. and then let it eat at me until I decide to do it. But I had an experience a few months ago that I don't want to forget; and want to be able to share with Calvin later in life.

Earlier this year we decided to attend a deaf ward in Meridian. For those of you who are not LDS, ward is our word for congregation. This has been special for me, as I mentioned in an earlier post, I grew up in a deaf ward. Our first Sunday there was a lot more emotional for me than I meant for it to be, but I had so many sweet memories of people I genuinely loved and admired while growing up.

Before I go any further, I have to make sure that I make it clear that I am not a missionary or a standard by which to judge righteousness. This post is not intended to woo anyone into joining my church. Lord knows I struggle daily to define and redefine and live by what I believe, and I could never expect more or less from anyone else.  I am happy and content with the fact that many of my friends and my husband come from so many different faiths and beliefs. I look at a person's heart and prefer to judge them for what is written there, not for what pew they do or don't sit in on Sundays.

So then, why am I LDS? Because there are some doctrines that are so inescapably beautiful to me that I cannot walk away from them. One of them is the doctrine of an eternal existence. I find great comfort in the idea that I knew my friends and family before I came to this life, that I knew I would have trials and that I would struggle, that my children knew me and agreed to live the duration of this existence with me, even though they knew I would be so imperfect.  The first Sunday that we attended the deaf ward, I was reminded of this principle and came away from it with a completely new perspective on my own purpose in this life.

The first Sunday of the month in every LDS ward around the world, the main meeting is open to the congregation for sharing of testimonies. Sometimes it's hit or miss with how spiritually based the testimonies are, and I have definitely learned to value a true and genuine spiritual experience, no matter how humble the source.

That Sunday we were listening to the testimony of a woman named Anna. I will admit, I was apprehensive when she got up to speak. I had watched her interpreting the hymns and I blatantly admit that I didn't think she was doing a very good job. Her movements were jerky and not fluid at all. Her facial expressions were awkward and angry. It wasn't the beautiful, graceful deaf music that I remember growing up. As soon as she started to share her testimony though, I was so embarrassed of how I had judged her and even said under my breath, "Shame on you, Mindy."

 At 3 months old, after an improper dose of immunizations were given, Anna was left able to hear, but her vocal chords were so damaged she cannot speak. She was left without most of the left side of her brain functioning, and has struggled with epilepsy since then. As she shared her testimony through an interpreter, she shared that at one time, out of frustration she cried to a friend, and asked "Why? Why me? Why did this have to happen?" The answer that she provided was a simple reminder of some of the most fundamental beliefs in my faith, and I was grateful that she had the courage to share it. She said that she was reminded by her good friend that she knew before this life that she would have trials like this, and that she wanted to come here anyway.

 As she continued on, I realized that Calvin's hearing loss isn't my struggle, and that maybe, he's stronger than I think he is. Maybe, this is something he knew he would endure. My job isn't to be angry or resentful that Calvin is deaf. My job is to recognize that he knew what his life would be like, and agreed to it anyway.  My job is to teach him what he needs to know so that he can grow, and learn and live up to his full potential, and then get out of his way and let him fly. This isn't to say that I can't grow spiritually in this process, because believe me, I have.

As a mother though, I think it's so easy to take responsibility for everything that happens to, because, about and around our kids. That's a dang heavy load and it can really be exhausting. This insight that was given though, was so enlightening and refreshing... and actually liberating. It was a sense of relief that I felt to know that maybe Heavenly Father allows my children to face challenges and not ALL of them are because I am not always the best mother I could be. We ALL knew what trials we were going to face. To what extent, I can't tell you. I don't believe that it was a perfect knowledge with a very clear vision of the future, only God has that. But I do believe that it was an awareness and more importantly, acceptance.

Time and time again I have been astounded by the lessons I'm learning both through Calvin's disability, and the people who have come into our lives because of it. I will forever be grateful that I have children who knew me well enough to know that one of my greatest periods of growth would be through the lessons he taught me.