D&C102:1 - -D&C 104:19
Three days before our wedding, Greg went to an Instacare because he had a sore throat and the beginnings of a head cold. During the examination the doctor informed us that he could feel a tumor on Greg’s thyroid. Worried that it might be cancerous, he suggested Greg have an additional examination as soon as we arrived home from our honeymoon.
So we did.
Greg saw a specialist at the U of U, and the findings were not good. The biopsy revealed that there was a 97% chance of the tumor being malignant, and we were terrified.
Change is never easy, and facing something of that magnitude so early in our marriage scared us both. Following the surgery, I sat alone next to Greg’s bed in the hospital room.
Never before in my life had I been faced with a trial that depleted all of my reserves as this one had. But sometimes life has to hurt to make you strong.
My parents lived out of town, and Greg’s parents had gone home for the night. Greg was heavily sedated, and I found myself sitting in that dark room in the middle of the night completely alone with my thoughts.
Sometimes loneliness is frightening.
I tried to hold on to all that was familiar, to all of the dreams that we had planned.
In the depths of my heart I wished that there could have been someone there to strengthen me and stay the night with me.
"After much tribulation...cometh the blessing..." (D&C 103:12)
As the night wore on a familiar and favored verse of scripture kept coming to mind, “Be still, and know that I am God.” (D&C 101:16)
It was the blessing within the counsel that stood out to me. Within the stillness came the sure and steady witness that I was not alone.
I can’t help but remember that moment every time I sing these familiar words, “O Savior, stay this night with me; Behold, ‘tis eventide.” (Hymn 165)
Still, the greatest blessing of that experience was that it drew us closer to the Lord.
It has been decades since that night.
But the lesson has not been forgotten.
In moments of anxiousness, unrest, or question my first inclination is to find a place that is still.
Often the stillness finds me turning to the pages of scriptures for comfort, strength, direction, answers.
In those quiet moments, jut like the unnamed disciples on the road to Emmaus, I have found verses that have caused my heart to burn within me. Those whispered assurances from the Lord have been just what I have needed to sustain and lift me and carry me through.
Perhaps we could remember this simple counsel “when other helpers fail and comforts flee.” In those moments when we plead, “Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me!” (Hymn 166)
Let us find a quiet place.
Be still. And know.
He is God. He is there.