I grew up in a solid gospel home. I was born truly, of goodly parents. I remember my home as a refuge, filled with the Spirit. I think one of the earliest ties to feeling the spirit was with music as well— growing up immersed in it.
I guess you can say I was blessed by the Lord, to have a seeking heart. I joyed in hearing the Gospel from a young age. I would seek it out. I loved Young Women lessons, girls’ camp, devotionals. My heart craved the words of Christ. In college if there was ever a fireside I was always so excited to go. I remember feeling surprised not all of my roommates wanted or were even excited to go to those firesides.
I think we saints love to hear big stories of conversion and big experiences. But more often than not, I think a lot of us don’t have those types of stories to tell. Mine is one of those stories. My testimony was formed drop by drop. I don’t remember one big a-ha moment. I just remember that every time I was taught by a righteous influence, usually my Young Women’s leaders, it felt as though I had a cup that was near empty, and they had filled it almost to the brim or overflowing once the lesson was over. When I was in high school, I remember feeling as if my life truly depended on those weekly fillings of my cup. I was so blessed to be taught by righteous influences.
I became a CNA when I was 16. We’ve been told to strengthen feeble knees.. and there was nowhere I felt I was doing His work more than when I was caring for those widows at that care center. They had Alzheimer’s, and I absolutely loved them. It was hard work but I felt so close to God doing it and that realization pushed me to become a Nurse. I went to the Y and got my degree. I met Josh my last semester there, (on Tinder!).
I worked at the Huntsman, and we welcomed our first child into the world a few years later.
As I studied the most recent General Conference talks, I found 23 references to hearing Him. I learned a few things:
-Hearing him is an opportunity, a privilege, a choice, an ability, and something we have to learn
-We need to make the effort
-In order to hear Him, you must be still.
-Each of God’s children deserves that opportunity.
-His voice is clear in the scriptures.
That last one is one of the most clear ways I learned to Hear him. I LOVED THE SCRIPTURES. I still love them. The Tangible, hold-in-your-hand scriptures is where I get the most filling of my cup. I also love studying the conference talks on paper and not on my phone, writing notes and impressions as I go.
I also learned to Hear Him Through private prayer, I loved to pray aloud as I commuted from work or school.
I heard His voice in the counsel of loved ones, and especially the testimonies of others.
However, I have come to learn through hard experience that Hearing Him does not always come so easily. It is truly so personal, and a continual process. I have one major example of this, and so I will touch upon where I left off, the birth of my first child.
Becoming a mother was one of the most rewarding and fulfilling things of my life.
It was also absolutely the hardest thing I have ever done.
It felt akin to as one of my closest friends puts it, a train being derailed.
I was struck with debilitating PTSD, anxiety, and eventually, depression. I want to point out that the way I “heard Him” in that time of my life was drastically different than the ways I just described.
In the words of Jane Clayton Johnson (Her book: Silent Souls Weeping), ”Depression is difficult to describe even when you’ve experienced it yourself.”
Ann Madsen has described it like this: “I couldn’t get out of it. It was like I was in a sack and somebody had tied the top and I didn’t know how to untie it. I couldn’t get out…
I felt like an Etch-A-Sketch. I created this beautiful picture on my Etch-A-Sketch of who I was. Somehow it got shaken. That picture got erased. I was down to nothing.”
I was exhausted. For me it was just a hopeless, dark hole, where even doing the smallest things like washing a baby bottle just really required a ton of effort. I felt broken.
My ability to feel the spirit was cut off, I couldn’t feel anything. This was such a stark contrast to my entire upbringing until that point, where I used to soak up the Voice of The Lord like a sponge. I would come to my meetings with my little empty cup- hold it out feebly, and it would not fill. I would leave my meetings as I started. That was shocking. In a doctrine that promises that the Holy Ghost can be a constant companion, I had never felt so alone.
I myself bought into the stigma associated with Depression, even as I was experiencing it, even now still, as I stand before you. “In this Gospel, “we believe in a plan of happiness, not a plan of depression. We’re taught, ‘Men are, that they might have joy’ (2 Nephi 2:25) Depression doesn’t fit readily or comfortably into such a construct.”
My heart takes courage as I learn of those “who in the words of Prophet Joseph Smith, ‘search[ed] .. and contemplate[d] the darkest abyss’ and persevered through it— not in the least of whom were Abraham Lincoln, Winston Churchill, and Elder George Albert Smith, the latter being one of the most gentle and Christlike men of our dispensation, who battled recurring depression for some years before becoming the universally beloved eighth prophet and President of the Church.” [Silent Souls Weeping]
Elder Jeffrey R. Holland has said, “…no one can responsibly suggest [depression] would surely go away if those victims would just square their shoulders and think more positively.”
Depression is a disease, not a character defect, or a lack of will, or a spiritual deficit.
Still, I felt like a failure, and found myself trying to square my shoulders and think positively. Maybe if I could do more, then I would be worthy of the spirit. I thought surely, I wasn't reading the scriptures enough. My prayers were not fervent enough. I didn’t go to the temple enough. If I could do more, then I would somehow earn some spiritual enlightenment.
Thank goodness my husband was inspired to find this book, The Power of Stillness, which first few chapters completely changed my life, and my perspective on this “more” mentality.
It reads,
“Sometimes, following God may actually involve doing less, rather than more, with value in making space for periods of retreat, as Jesus Himself did.”
Instead of 'finishing' a prayer, it can become a sacred practice of personal retreat where we can simply be still, maybe even not saying any words, simply trying to 'rest in His presence as we kneel, in stillness and silence,' remembering that we are His.
Instead of 'getting a chapter done,' we can hold scriptural text as an anchor to focus our minds and hearts, and facilitate an ongoing exploration about God’s hand in our lives.
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