Chapter 25: In Good and Bad Times
One day when life took a bad turn, I thought of the opening words to Charles Dicken’s novel A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair”
The bad turn was I found more cancer. The doctor diagnosed it as metastatic. It took too many tests, two surgeries, chemotherapy again, radiation, a new diagnosis of a serious lung infection that took a year and 1,700 milligrams of antibiotic a day to heal, dental troubles with two root canals, eight crowns, and an unrelated surgery. I spent eighteen months going from bed, to chair, to couch, day in and day out. I thought of my health as the worst of times, a season of darkness, the winter of despair. I felt frustrated about this unpleasant interruption to my good life and felt anxious about my future. (I look back now and think I was really not that sick and was acting like an invalid when I was more healthy than many. But that's where I was then.)
Intermixed with these worrisome health struggles were several anticipated best of times events—an upcoming marriage of a thirty-something-year-old son, the births of three grandbabies, and our daughter moving home after twenty years of living far away. Our daughter’s difficult decision to return was motivated by her desire to be closer to family, especially to me, her sick mother. Richard and I invited her to live with us until she got established in a new job. We realized, though, her willingness to live with us was sacrificing much of her independence.
With this in mind, Richard and I went to work to make her transition as nice as possible. We emptied drawers and closets and meticulously cleaned the part of the house that would be hers. Then the idea came to purchase a mirror for her bedroom. This seemed like inspiration. So we went mirror shopping. We were delighted to find a full-length mirror on a beautiful wooden stand. The mirror opened into an armoire where she could keep her jewelry and keepsakes, and the wood frame matched the décor of the room perfectly.
When the room was ready, I opened the mirror and looked at the many hooks and little drawers where her jewelry would be kept. Then I received another idea: Hang a house key on one of the hooks as a tangible “Welcome home!”
I looked toward heaven and said a prayer of thanks for these timely ideas to help our precious daughter feel loved. How grateful I was for the guidance of the Holy Ghost and for these very specific ideas. (Whenever I receive communications from the Spirit, I feel uplifted and validated.)
Then from the same Source, a truth entered my mind. Just as I freely acknowledged the Holy Ghost’s step-by-step instructions to help our daughter, would not my friends and family have received similar step-by-step instructions to help me through my frustrating years of health challenges? However true, this realization was not comforting because it meant my health problems were not interruptions to my good life as I thought, but rather part of God’s plan for me.
I remembered Joseph Smith’s five months in Liberty Jail and how at one point he cried out in despair: “O God, where art thou” (D&C 121:1)? I recalled the Lord’s answer: “Know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good” (D&C 122: 7). It was easy to accept this truth for other people, but not for me in my own life. Experience can be physically, emotionally, and spiritually hard—seasons of darkness and long drawn out winters of despair.
I knew, however, that if I believed that the Holy Ghost had directly communicated with me in good times, which I wholeheartedly do, then as a corollary, it would be equally true that He would be just as involved in my worst experiences. I knew it had to be so. The Holy Ghost is not a fair-weather bestower of ideas and comfort.
I remembered President Dieter F. Uchtdorf’s challenge to be grateful in every circumstance, whatever the experience, happy, sad, or in between. He told about meeting “people whose sorrows seem to reach the very depths of their souls.” “Sooner or later,” he said, “I believe that all of us [will] experience times when the very fabric of our world tears at the seams, leaving us feeling alone, frustrated, and adrift. It can happen to anyone. No one is immune.” Then he made his point: “It might sound contrary to the wisdom of the world to suggest that one who is burdened with sorrow should give thanks to God” (“Grateful in any Circumstance").
In the eternal view, each of us may be best defined by how we navigated the negative. In the ultimate big picture, it may be that hard times yielded the best of times. It is while wading through adversity that we choose to be grateful or bitter, that we hope or become cynical, that we press forward or languish. In hard times we learn to accept the full range of experiences Heavenly Father omnisciently provides. He promises are sure I think especially when the narrow balance beam of life gets even narrower: “I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up” (D&C 84:88).
(c) Marilynne Todd Linford, 2018
The bad turn was I found more cancer. The doctor diagnosed it as metastatic. It took too many tests, two surgeries, chemotherapy again, radiation, a new diagnosis of a serious lung infection that took a year and 1,700 milligrams of antibiotic a day to heal, dental troubles with two root canals, eight crowns, and an unrelated surgery. I spent eighteen months going from bed, to chair, to couch, day in and day out. I thought of my health as the worst of times, a season of darkness, the winter of despair. I felt frustrated about this unpleasant interruption to my good life and felt anxious about my future. (I look back now and think I was really not that sick and was acting like an invalid when I was more healthy than many. But that's where I was then.)
Intermixed with these worrisome health struggles were several anticipated best of times events—an upcoming marriage of a thirty-something-year-old son, the births of three grandbabies, and our daughter moving home after twenty years of living far away. Our daughter’s difficult decision to return was motivated by her desire to be closer to family, especially to me, her sick mother. Richard and I invited her to live with us until she got established in a new job. We realized, though, her willingness to live with us was sacrificing much of her independence.
With this in mind, Richard and I went to work to make her transition as nice as possible. We emptied drawers and closets and meticulously cleaned the part of the house that would be hers. Then the idea came to purchase a mirror for her bedroom. This seemed like inspiration. So we went mirror shopping. We were delighted to find a full-length mirror on a beautiful wooden stand. The mirror opened into an armoire where she could keep her jewelry and keepsakes, and the wood frame matched the décor of the room perfectly.
When the room was ready, I opened the mirror and looked at the many hooks and little drawers where her jewelry would be kept. Then I received another idea: Hang a house key on one of the hooks as a tangible “Welcome home!”
I looked toward heaven and said a prayer of thanks for these timely ideas to help our precious daughter feel loved. How grateful I was for the guidance of the Holy Ghost and for these very specific ideas. (Whenever I receive communications from the Spirit, I feel uplifted and validated.)
Then from the same Source, a truth entered my mind. Just as I freely acknowledged the Holy Ghost’s step-by-step instructions to help our daughter, would not my friends and family have received similar step-by-step instructions to help me through my frustrating years of health challenges? However true, this realization was not comforting because it meant my health problems were not interruptions to my good life as I thought, but rather part of God’s plan for me.
I remembered Joseph Smith’s five months in Liberty Jail and how at one point he cried out in despair: “O God, where art thou” (D&C 121:1)? I recalled the Lord’s answer: “Know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good” (D&C 122: 7). It was easy to accept this truth for other people, but not for me in my own life. Experience can be physically, emotionally, and spiritually hard—seasons of darkness and long drawn out winters of despair.
I knew, however, that if I believed that the Holy Ghost had directly communicated with me in good times, which I wholeheartedly do, then as a corollary, it would be equally true that He would be just as involved in my worst experiences. I knew it had to be so. The Holy Ghost is not a fair-weather bestower of ideas and comfort.
I remembered President Dieter F. Uchtdorf’s challenge to be grateful in every circumstance, whatever the experience, happy, sad, or in between. He told about meeting “people whose sorrows seem to reach the very depths of their souls.” “Sooner or later,” he said, “I believe that all of us [will] experience times when the very fabric of our world tears at the seams, leaving us feeling alone, frustrated, and adrift. It can happen to anyone. No one is immune.” Then he made his point: “It might sound contrary to the wisdom of the world to suggest that one who is burdened with sorrow should give thanks to God” (“Grateful in any Circumstance").
In the eternal view, each of us may be best defined by how we navigated the negative. In the ultimate big picture, it may be that hard times yielded the best of times. It is while wading through adversity that we choose to be grateful or bitter, that we hope or become cynical, that we press forward or languish. In hard times we learn to accept the full range of experiences Heavenly Father omnisciently provides. He promises are sure I think especially when the narrow balance beam of life gets even narrower: “I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up” (D&C 84:88).
(c) Marilynne Todd Linford, 2018
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