Comforter and Forever Friend

Life isn't fair. Sometimes things suck. We can be there for people and show them that we care but we're imperfect, too. The only one to whom we can turn, who will comfort us and always be our friend is the Lord, Jesus Christ. He understands our pains, trials, sicknesses, and sins because he atoned for us. There's nothing we experience that the Lord hasn't felt. He's our Savior and Redeemer but also our comforter and forever friend.

Being religious or believing in him doesn't matter, because when we reach out to him he reaches out to us. He comforts us when nothing else can. He calms our troubled hearts and gives us peace.

My Thankful Heart

Reading words from the old me
Yesterday, I read my journals from ten and five years ago. Reading my thoughts from those years brought back memories of how I was - what I thought, what I did, what others did and what people said to me. I see how the me today is so different from the me then.

My old thought patterns
My trial has been extremely hard and has pushed me to my limit, but I can look back after having read my words yesterday and see many good things. I used to be so unsure. I talked a lot about my weight. Several times I mentioned the hold food had on me. I had a negative voice in my mind that I believed. And I thought incorrectly about many things. Life is hard and over time those things became very pronounced on the inside even though I seemed to have much control over my life on the outside.

In some ways I seemed to have a charmed life, but in certain ways my inner self was crumbling. Many times perfectionism caused me to feel lonely and cry to myself in my bedroom. Several times my insecure mind got the best of me. On more than one occasion my incorrect thinking caused much turmoil and heartache.

My new thought patterns
Getting MS turned my world upside down and frustrated me immeasurably. To this day, and probably for the rest of my life, I will feel and see the effects of it. But as I look back over the years since getting sick I see many blessings including that I'm a lot more strong and sure outside and in, food and weight don't have a hold on me, I don't listen to the negative voice in my mind (when I got sick and for years the negative voice didn't exist), I'm less rigid, I'm much more loving, and I think correctly.

Thankful inside and out
Trials don't last forever. I'm thankful for the things that have improved me. In reading my words of yester years I read much anger but now I feel great peace. I'll never go back to the person I was. Even though I have a challenge, I see good things ahead. Not all of my road from then was rocky; many good experiences were also recorded. I'm thankful to look back but I'm more thankful to look ahead.

Just Me

Being Jade (not Jade with MS) lets me say who I am: Patient, Kind, Loving, Merciful, Virtuous, Full of Faith, Hopeful, Charitable, Nice, Funny, Knowledgeable, Wise, Real, and Honest. I see the value of my story of the crab, that I'm just me.

The trial of having MS is hard, sometimes I wish for things I used to have, but if the Lord wants me to have this trial then I'll have it ... knowing that it's not forever; in eternity I'll be whole. The important thing in this life is to progress and improve; I can truly say that my trials make me do that. I may metaphorically kick and scream at first because I don't like it but after a while I get perspective and can see the good that came from it.

Let me not get distracted or derailed by my trial but remember that my goal is to become like my Father in Heaven. Polishing hurts as the dross is removed from me, but in the end it make's me brilliant and beautiful. I imagine me starting out as a rock and resulting in a diamond. The refining, chipping, and shaping are my trials and it helps me to remember the end result.

I'm Not My Trial

I met a guy who got in a serious accident while in High School. He had many injuries and for the rest of his life will be disabled. Five years after his accident, it makes him want to travel around to high schools and encourage kids to be smarter than him at that age. I believe if I talked to him in ten years he would still tell me the same story (that would have happened many years ago) and it would still be the center of his life.

In thinking about that guy it occurs to me that I don't want to make my MS the center of my life. I don't want to only refer to lessons learned from having MS because I've learned lessons from other trials too. Granted, having MS is my hardest trial but it's not my only trial nor is it the only trial that has taught me.

The guy's trial is hard and I don't diminish it in any way. All I'm saying is that I'm me and not my trial. For a time my trials ARE me, but eventually I let go of them and become just me again.

Comfort and Help Surely Come

I've been comforted as I've dealt with my challenge-that's been very hard. I lived almost 40 years as a well person and knew what I could and couldn't do. Six years ago when I got sick a new symptom happened almost every day. By the end of Summer I couldn't do a lot of things and felt very frustrated. I felt like maybe Heavenly Father was punishing me. I felt scared that I might die. The Holy Ghost put a thought in my mind to stop thinking of dying and instead to think about how it could be worse. He comforted me and I felt His presence letting me know, "It'll be okay".

I know that Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and The Holy Ghost love me. They want the best for me and don't punish me but want me to learn and be all I can. Hard things are sometimes scary. Sometimes they're maddening and frustrating. Sometimes they're sad. I truly believe whatever the hard thing is it's best to trust Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and The Holy Ghost to give the help and comfort needed.

It Used to Frustrate Me But Now It Doesn't

As I look back at my journal entries from the past week I see that I learned a lot about myself. Experiences that felt hard told me how I am. I'm reading a book ("Not My Will, But Thine") by one of my favorite people, Neal A. Maxwell, and he said that experiencing trials is a part of life that tell us how we are. He quoted Hebrews 5:8 that says, "Though he were a son, yet learned he obedience by the things he suffered." Even Jesus learned from his trials.

I've learned that my trials refine me and make me closer to my "real" self. I understand and feel the same way as Paul when he said, "Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities ... for when I am weak, then am I strong." (2 Corinthians 12:9) When my trial frustrated me I couldn't say, "I take pleasure in this", on the contrary I said, "I don't like this!" and "This sucks!" But because time has gone by and because I've accepted my fate I'm willing to see my trial in a different way and can see things that benefit me. My heart feels at peace now and I see the world around me not just my trial. I feel lucky that I had an intense five year learning experience. Even though my trial goes on I consider the good side of it ... that it teaches me.

Putting It Into Perspective

"Once there was a little bird who decided to stay in the north for the winter. The weather soon turned cold. The bird reluctantly decided to fly south. Ice began to form on his wings. Almost frozen, he fell to earth in a pasture. A cow wandered by and crapped on the little bird. Our feathered friend thought it was the end, but the manure was warm and defrosted his wings. Warm, happy, and able to breathe he started to sing. Just then a cat came by. Hearing the chirping he investigated. The cat cleared away the manure, found the singing bird, and promptly ate him.

The moral of the story is: The one who craps on you is not necessarily your enemy. The one who pulls you out of a pile of manure is not necessarily your friend."

I love that story, it's so true! To me it puts burdens in perspective and causes me to think that maybe my burden isn't just bad, maybe it's also good. My burden is awful...but when I look at it in another way it's helpful. I'm not so close to the forest now (my burden) that I can once again see the trees. I've had my MS diagnosis for almost six years and can now look at it objectively. It doesn't hurt me like it did even last year. (Maybe time needs to give distance between a person and their burden, because if the person is still mad they don't want to hear reason but feel support.)

I don't want to tell anyone how to think or feel, I just say that for me I can now look at my burden objectively. When I feel sad or mad I do things that make me happy. Maybe I watch a good movie, talk to a friend, listen to nice music, read an uplifting book, write, go to lunch or take a ride. Whatever I do distracts me for that time from the reality of my burden. I'm my true self and not handicapped at those times. I endure my burden and today feel happiness.

Feeling Improved by My Hard Thing

I wrote in the third person yesterday but it didn't feel like me. Maybe third person is good for some things but not my 'Musings' blog. Thanks for going on the journey of discovery with me.

It's raining off and on today and I'm glad because my plants could always use the water! Per is at SAMS Club buying stuff including Memorial Day food. (We're gonna BBQ baby back pork ribs in his no-oil turkey cooker-to see how it goes on Monday, and smoke a salmon in the smoker (yum!) on Sunday. It's a ton of food but it sure will taste good and we don't have to eat all of it! We'll have Per's yummy potato salad and also corn on the cob on Monday and it will truly be a celebration of summer and of remembering veterans!)

Today, I seem to be moving well. I set something in the microwave and turned it on for two minutes. Then I walked over to the fridge and back to the counter, took other things out of the cupboard and drawer, and the microwave still had a minute to go. In the past, the microwave would have beeped before I did those things. Who knows how I'll move tomorrow, but today I'm moving well!

One of the things having MS has taught me is to have more patience. I used to whip through things so fast that I didn't take the time to notice them. Often I'd operate on 'auto-pilot' because my mind was somewhere else. For many years after having MS I would get upset and cry about finding joy in a little thing-like walking down a step. Now, I can see it as a great accomplishment because I tried and because it was the best I could do. But then, it frustrated me.

A lot has changed for me since having MS. I move slowly now whereas in the past I moved fast. No longer can I do many things. But thankfully, five years have gone by that have allowed me time to accept my new reality. Truly, time heals all wounds.

Recently I thought, if I see improvement in a year it will be good. I laughed because there was a time that I thought, how can I endure this for a day? My trial is hard but it has truly improved me.

This Trial Will NOT Defeat Me

Everyone Faces Hard Things
My friend is enduring something hard and I wish I could carry her burden for her. I know the logic behind trials; including that they make you stronger and a greater person, but I never like to see anyone suffer.

Endurance is more easily said than done
It's one thing to say, "I'm going to run a marathon" but quite another thing to actually run 26 miles and not quit. The only thing other people can do is help you (cheer you on, give you a drink) but you're the one who runs the race-it's just you, the pavement, and your goal.

While a runner runs a race they have a lot of time to think. Is it helpful to think things like this? "I'm tired, I'm gonna quit. I might as well stop, I'm in last place. I failed." or like this? "I'm tired, but I'll keep going. I can do it. I WILL do it and I don't care if I'm the last person to cross that finish line, at least I'll cross it."

Pep-talks are helpful
I see how giving myself a pep-talk gives me the motivation to reach my goal. I remember years ago I took a walk to get some exercise and the walk was hard. I was sweating, my heart was beating, and I still had half a mile to go. I felt like quitting-slowing down and walking leisurely, but at that moment I started talking to God in my head. I said I was tired, but I had the impression to finish. I rounded a corner and a wind cooled me off. It was the motivation I needed to keep going. 'Thank you, Lord' I thought, then I thought 'I can do it, I can make it and I WILL'. I made it and I truly believe that God blessed me after I did all I could do.

Kind Words are Good
It's tough to face disappointing things and it's easy to get discouraged. At the discouraging times are when I need a pep-talk whether from myself or from another person. An experience I had relates to this so well.

I had had MS for two years and I felt really down. I seemed to experience something frustrating every day (what I used to do but now couldn't). I talked to my Dad on the phone and somehow the fact that he'd been disabled for 17 years with something else comforted me. I asked him if there was a time before he was positive that he ever said, "This sucks." He said he didn't remember and that being positive was the only way he knew how to be. He told me that my strength inspired him, and it shocked me because he was strong for 17 years and I had been sick for only two years. We talked some more and during the course of our conversation he told me other things. I needed to hear the things he said that day and believe his words were a tender mercy.

Everyone Needs to Hear Inspiration
Some things are hard-believe me, I know! But the most important thing I believe with all my heart is to endure. To never quit. To think 'just take one more step' and to do all that's possible. I also believe that sometimes I need a pep-talk. I need to hear encouraging words that will spur me on not vile words that will make me stop. I love this poem, it encourages me:

                                     The Race

Whenever I start to hang my head in front of failure’s face,
    my downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.

A children’s race, young boys, young men; how I remember well,
    excitement sure, but also fear, it wasn’t hard to tell.
They all lined up so full of hope, each thought to win that race    
    or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.

Their parents watched from off the side, each cheering for their son,
    and each boy hoped to show his folks that he would be the one.
The whistle blew and off they flew, like chariots of fire,
    to win, to be the hero there, was each young boy’s desire.

One boy in particular, whose dad was in the crowd,
    was running in the lead and thought “My dad will be so proud.”
But as he speeded down the field and crossed a shallow dip,
    the little boy who thought he’d win, lost his step and slipped.

Trying hard to catch himself, his arms flew everyplace,
    and midst the laughter of the crowd he fell flat on his face.
As he fell, his hope fell too; he couldn’t win it now.
    Humiliated, he just wished to disappear somehow.

But as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face,
    which to the boy so clearly said, “Get up and win that race!”
He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit that’s all,
    and ran with all his mind and might to make up for his fall.

 So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,
    his mind went faster than his legs. He slipped and fell again.
He wished that he had quit before with only one disgrace.
    “I’m hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn’t try to race.”

But through the laughing crowd he searched and found his father’s face
    with a steady look that said again, “Get up and win that race!”
So he jumped up to try again, ten yards behind the last.
    “If I’m to gain those yards,” he thought, “I’ve got to run real fast!”

Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight, then ten...
    but trying hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again.
Defeat! He lay there silently. A tear dropped from his eye.
    “There’s no sense running anymore! Three strikes I’m out! Why try?

I’ve lost, so what’s the use?” he thought. “I’ll live with my disgrace.”
    But then he thought about his dad, who soon he’d have to face.
“Get up,” an echo sounded low, “you haven’t lost at all,
    for all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall."

Get up!” the echo urged him on, “Get up and take your place!
    You were not meant for failure here! Get up and win that race!”
So, up he rose to run once more, refusing to forfeit,
    and he resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn’t quit.

 So far behind the others now, the most he’d ever been,
    still he gave it all he had and ran like he could win.
Three times he’d fallen stumbling, three times he rose again.
    Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.

They cheered another boy who crossed the line and won first place,
    head high and proud and happy -- no falling, no disgrace.
But, when the fallen youngster crossed the line, in last place,
    the crowd gave him a greater cheer for finishing the race.

And even though he came in last with head bowed low, unproud,
    you would have thought he’d won the race, to listen to the crowd.
And to his dad he sadly said, “I didn’t do so well.”
    “To me, you won,” his father said. “You rose each time you fell.”

And now when things seem dark and bleak and difficult to face,
    the memory of that little boy helps me in my own race.

For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all.
    And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
And when depression and despair shout loudly in my face,
    another voice within me says, “Get up and win that race!”

Enduring a Hard Thing

Hard Things are Hard
Everyone faces hard things, from that I'm not immune. Five years ago MS scared me. Everything I experienced was new and I just wanted things familiar to me. Now life with my disease feels more normal than life without my disease. Yes, there are things I wish I could do but I love to learn and be improved and I'd trade anything I have for things that improve me.

My Hard Things Have Become Blessings
Before getting MS I did well. I was at a good time in my life. But as I look back I see how having my disease corrected things and brought more happiness to my life. I learned so much in the first year of my illness, and many things I couldn't have learned any other way. I thought I knew a lot, but there's so much I didn't know.

More than five years have gone by since I've had MS and the things that were once hard for me have now become blessings. In contemplating my blessings, here are some that come to mind:

 

• More gratitude (it could be worse)
• Less judgmental
• Less rigid
• More authentic (being vs. just acting)
• More patience
• No negative voice in my Head
• Realizing the importance of my family
• Per and I are our true selves (humble, serving)
• More sure of myself (I am valiant, good enough, an example, I stand for the right even if standing alone)
• Realizing my strength
• Allow myself to focus on other skills
• Focusing on what really matters (behavior vs. attributes, giving time rather than things, acknowledging people)
• Accepting myself (progression not perfection in this life)
• Accepting my husband (allowing him to be himself)
• More trust
• Willing to be honest
• Placing importance on what I think

My Willingness to Endure The Hard Thing Has Brought Me Blessings 

I'm reminded that Neil A.Maxwell said, "In order to feel more joy we must be willing to feel more sorrow." I won't become a greater person without experiencing a little heat. The Lord said that he will try me in the furnace of affliction (Isaiah 48:10). Taffy is yummy when it gets pulled because it becomes it's potential. A caterpillar becomes a butterfly - a totally new creature - when it submits to the chrysalis and is willing to transform. Wonderful statues are carved out of marble but the marble starts out as a block before being chiseled into something magnificent. Likewise, I am willing to endure any trial because I know I will become marvelous. 

 

Let me expound on each thing listed above and say why they're blessings:

 

More gratitude (it could be worse)

I felt scared one day when I first got sick and thought, 'I'm gonna die'. Negative thoughts crossed my mind and I felt sad. The thought, 'It could be worse' crossed my mind, and as I thought about how it could be worse I felt grateful that it wasn't. Thinking of ways it could have been worse caused me to count my blessings and to feel grateful instead of angry. My mindset caused me to see the good instead of the bad. Everyone has trials and experiences unfairness. The way I look at things (positively vs. negatively, the glass being half full vs. half empty, optimistically vs. pessimistically) determines the way I'll face it. I'm so glad the 'It could be worse' thought crossed my mind and caused me to stop thinking negatively.

  

Less judgmental

I didn't realize I was so judgmental but it's true. Internally, I looked at people up and down and judged their appearance; their hair, their fingernails, their clothes, their clothing fabric, their shoes, and the list goes on. I judged what people did, what they said, and who they were. I was kind on the outside but on the inside judged harshly. I didn't forget wrongs but I didn't hold grudges. I liked what I liked and didn't like what I didn't like, end of story. I'm more accepting now. People can be who they are and I will try my best not to judge them. Everyone chooses the person they are. I give people mercy because mercy has been given to me, and because I want to receive mercy in the future.

 

Less rigid

I used to think very black or white - either this or that. I didn't allow for mistakes and expected perfection. The term "Good Enough" was hard for me to accept before getting sick, but after getting sick I simply couldn't do more - even when I wanted to. I learned that good enough is acceptable when in our hearts we want to do more.

 

More authentic (being vs. acting)

I placed a lot of value on what other's thought, but imagined their thoughts in my mind. Everything; the appearance of my home, my actions, my children's actions, my appearance, my job, and many more things had to have a good appearance or I thought people would judge me. I wanted others to think my things were perfect, even when they weren't. After getting sick, I wore things not because of their cuteness but because of how they helped me. I had a lot of pride and wouldn't let others help me because I didn't want to be considered weak. Today, I know that when people serve they show their love. Then, my pride didn't allow people to do things for me; I served (appear strong) but didn't get served (appear weak.) Today, I'm just myself - what you see is what you get (WYSIWYG) - and what I say is what I mean. I only do what I want, not what I think others want. I'm real - something a lot of people wish they were but won't allow themselves to be.

 

More patience

I've learned many forms of patience. I waited for four months while doctors figured out my problem. I waited for weeks for medicine to help me. I learned patience with myself when I had moments for eight months. I patiently endured other people learning to drive my car so they could drive me around. I'm not perfectly patient but I'm more patient than before.

 

No negative voice in my Head

I used to have a negative voice in my head that criticized me. I listened to it and believed its damning words. I thought of myself as a positive person, but the trait was something I wanted more than was. After getting sick, the negative voice went away - perhaps I just stopped listening to it. My focus became the things I could do not the cant's. Perhaps positive thoughts stopped the negative voice. (I choose to also consider it a tender mercy from Heavenly Father because he loves me.)

 

Realizing the importance of my family

Even after marrying, I worked. My kids both had daycare. I wanted to stay at home with my children, but financially it didn't make sense. When having my last job Andrew was old enough to stay home without a babysitter. Honestly, I liked being at work more than being at home because at work I saw my purpose and accomplishments, whereas at home I just considered each of my accomplishments as items checked off a never-ending list. When I first got sick, I remember sitting in my living room and feeling nothing (no happiness or warmth in my home.) Immediately I thought, I'd rather be at work. Today, I shudder to think in what state my family would be if I hadn't gotten sick because now we're close. My illness has bonded my family and me together.

 

Per and I are our true selves (humble, serving)

A person can have good intentions, but act differently because of life events. Negative behavior isn't true nature. Goodness can be overrun by wrongs and unfairness. Before getting sick, life was boring. We did the same thing every day and were stuck in a rut. My illness brought out our true personalities. Per loves to serve people; he also loves to cook. He works all day then comes home and makes dinner for me because he likes to do it. I love to read and learn - especially spiritual things. Today, we are our true selves and do what we love.

 

More sure of myself (I am valiant, good enough, an example, I stand for the right even if standing alone)

For years, internally I thought harshly about myself. I blamed myself for wrongs, and took responsibility for things that sometimes didn't belong to me. I thought of others as more important than me. Since being sick, I think more highly of myself. I acknowledge my traits and talents, and consider myself important and special.

 

Realizing my strength

After I got sick people would tell me "You're handling this so well" and "I couldn't do it." I'd think Yes, you could! What would you do - curl up in a ball? People don't know their strength until they have to use it. Strength allows a person to be resilient and sometimes surprise themselves. My disease never went away and caused me to realize my strength; something I didn't know I had.

 

Allow myself to focus on other skills

Before getting sick I thought I didn't have time to develop any other skills. After getting sick I couldn't work and wondered what I'd do with my time. I felt uncomfortable calling myself a *writer* because I didn't have the qualifications or degree to match the title. Several times, Per told me that I didn't need a degree to have talent. I felt uncomfortable with the title but wanted to write. One day, I realized that I had several journals and had already written a bunch of journals, so maybe I was a writer. I began writing, and the words poured out of me. Now I feel comfortable calling myself a writer. My illness has allowed me to develop a skill that I wouldn't acknowledge. Looking back, I see how I have always loved words, the English language, and articulately expressing myself. In high school I wanted to be a linguist or lawyer. I write blogs (I have eight - yikes!) and think my words help others. I'm thankful to have time to develop skills that I love.

 

Focusing on what really matters (behavior vs. attributes, giving time rather than things, acknowledging people)

After getting sick, I would first think about the awfulness of not being able to write, sing, play the piano, or basically do everything I loved, then second I would think about the many things I could still do. (I'm a deep thinker and like to contemplate things.) Early into my illness, a thought occurred to me that behaviors could be distractions from developing what really mattered. For example, I could spend my whole life developing my voice, handwriting, or piano playing, but those abilities could be taken away at any moment. Alternatively, developing attributes like being loving, patient, kind, and merciful could never be taken away once they became a part of my character. I decided to develop attributes and it made me real not fake. WYSIWYG. Before getting sick, I had the tendency to show my love through things (gifts, crafts, things I made,) but after getting sick, I realized that time mattered more than things. Things might have said, "I love you," but spending time with someone said that too (if I didn't love them, I wouldn't have done it.) Before getting sick, I didn't talk to some people - to be honest I didn't even see them, I saw the people in my group and that was all. After getting sick, I had to slow down. The people I never saw before were nice to me which really surprised me because I never talked to them. I judged everyone in my mind and thought they would judge me back and think of me the way I had thought of them. I didn't consider myself superior, but, after getting sick, realized that I'd be like 'normal people.' I considered myself above average, and above the "little people." My illness caused me to consider myself the same as people, but my traits made me unique.

 

Accepting myself (progression not perfection in this life)

I used to hear "accept yourself" and think, how can I ever do that when I can always be better? In my heart I hated myself because of my faults. I wanted to love myself but only would if I was perfect. After getting sick, the only reason I didn't do something was simply because I couldn't do it. I knew that if I could, I would. I learned to believe that God accepted "good enough" from me, because He knew that I gave my best and it was all I could do; He knew my heart and that I wanted to do more. I began to be kinder to myself with each passing year. I learned that He didn't expect perfection in this life but only progression. I came to know that I could love myself even with weaknesses. I accepted who I am and realized that acceptance didn't mean accepting my weaknesses but that I had them.

 

Accepting my husband (allowing him to be himself)

I wanted my husband to be the person *I* thought he needed to be; I thought my life would be easier if he thought like me. I didn't consider myself controlling, but wanted to control who he was. After getting sick, I submitted my will to HF, and gave up my need to control by realizing that God was in control. That realization gave my husband the freedom to be himself. I accepted my husband for who he is and knew that my only responsibility was to love him.

 

More trust

I only trusted myself to do things right. I knew of my abilities and that I would do a good job. It was a risk to trust anyone else because maybe they wouldn't do it as good as me. I didn't delegate very often unless I knew I could trust the person to whom I gave the responsibility. After getting sick, I kept thinking about how I needed to put my trust in God; but I felt uncomfortable trusting. One day I realized that He was perfect and decided to trust him. My trust in Him developed quickly once I realized He wouldn't let me down. (Trusting imperfect humans is a risk. What I need to know is that they'll do their best. Knowing that they won't cut corners allows me to trust them.)

 

Willing to be honest

I married an honest person and got used to hearing the truth. Sometimes I wouldn't be honest to other people because I didn't want to hurt their feelings. A lot of times I would sacrifice my feelings for someone else's - I wouldn't say the truth (be true to myself) because I wanted them to like me. After getting sick, I said the truth even if it hurt someone; I didn't lie, it was the truth. (The truth can hurt the person who hears it, but if they consider the truth it can help them improve. If they change, they can become an even greater person. How can a person change if they never hear the truth?) I didn't want to hurt people with my honesty, but when I didn't tell the truth, I didn't have faith in them that they'd improve. When I didn't say the truth, I didn't help them to potentially progress. The process of writing my book about my life caused me to realize the truth about many things. I said the truth in my book, but it hurt some people. (It hurt them because they chose to be hurt instead of being improved. It may have hurt them but it liberated me.) There is honesty in my family and we can handle hearing the truth, but most people want to hide from the truth and don't want to hear it.

 

Placing importance on what I think

I wanted people to like me so much that I considered what they thought as more important than what I thought. I considered them first and me second. I was very concerned about what people thought of me. After getting sick, I found value in what *I* thought. Perhaps my thinking of myself seemed arrogant, but I didn't look at it that way. I considered it as being sure of myself and being willing to acknowledge the good things about me - my talents, my skills, and the things I loved.

 

My Thoughts

Lehi was a prophet who saw a great vision. His son, Nephi, wanted to know the meaning of things in his father's vision so he prayed to God and not only learned what things meant but also learned so much more. I compare what Lehi and Nephi received to my trials and blessings. I got some trials when I got MS but the blessings I've received are so much more than my trials. This sounds funny but in contemplation of my trials and blessings I can say that I'm thankful for my hard thing because it has improved me.

 

Why do I talk so much about God? Because He has been there with me every step of the way as I've gone through my hard thing. He has been in my mind encouraging me, comforting me, and causing me to consider things. I have leaned on him and He's been there every time. I love Him. He is my rock and my everlasting God and I will praise His name forever.

He Knows

For whatever reason, I felt impressed to share my notes of this talk. It was given at the April 2014 General Conference by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Here are my notes:

JEAN A. STEVENS - Primary General Presidency, 1st Counselor
(Great talk)
-Father in Heaven reaches out to [me] with His divine love; [I] reach back to him with [my] faith.
-God hears and answers [my] prayers. He watches over [me]. [I'm] not alone.
-God knows [me] and hears the pleadings of [my] heart.
-God accomplishes miracles one prayer at a time, one person at a time.
-God helps [me], not necessarily in the way [I] want but in the way that will help [me] to grow.
-Many people have put their trust in the Lord. (e.g. David escaped death by Goliath, Nephi escaped potential death from his brothers, Joseph Smith escaped the powers of darkness and received miraculous answers. Each person did so by relying on the Lord.)
-Some people who have trials, do all they can do and put their faith in God.
-Some people say, "I would never ask for this trial but I would never wish not to feel God's love."
-"Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness." (Isaiah 41:10)

I believe her words. I have reached out to God many times and know that He hears me and gives me peace. Sometimes all I can think of is to turn to Him and know that He will make it right.

Soft Around the Edges

I'm a perfectionist who once thought in extremes - either this or that. I didn't used to give myself or anything around me a break, 'Why would I? Things can always be better', I used to think. Back then, I was nice on the outside (never said a mean thing to friends, said what I thought people wanted to hear, agreeable, friendly, nice) but tough on the inside (mostly to myself-judgmental, always expected more, did things to the nth degree, never gave myself a break).

When I got MS, I felt very sad to know that all I could do was sit-sit and realize everything I wanted to do but couldn't. I had to let others help me, and as a result felt their love. I let others do my things, and as a result saw their ability. Letting others into my life has made me soft around the edges (instead of rigid and stiff like I used to be).

I've experienced many hard things but from them have come many blessings. Five years later, I can look back at my trial and see the good. I'll always be a perfectionist - someone who strives for the best - the good news is that I've learned many things that have made me a good perfectionist. My trial, although hard, has given me many benefits.

Enduring Something Hard

I heard a talk once where the guy said it was better to look on the optimistic side of mistakes and challenges because then you could laugh at them later. He said, "Come what may and love it." Another person said that in life you either had to laugh or cry. She said that she'd rather laugh than cry because crying gave her a headache.

I agree with them and think it's best to look on the bright side. I want to cheer myself up not feel down in the dumps. But let's be honest, I don't love everything. Sometimes I think, Come what may and endure it. I want to be optimistic and I think I'm pretty positive, but some things bug me and they always will.

There are some things that I really dislike about my trial.

At those moments I think about this picture:

Sometimes things are hard.

When things are hard I tell myself,
"I don't have to like it, I just have to endure it."

I live with people who care about me. Sometimes I don't want to hear any pep talks from them or even anything (because I'm close to tears.)
I smile, and imagine myself with kindness.
Then I think, You can do it. 
You're tough and you can handle it. I have faith in you.

How A Person Should Be Treated

Everyone is equal
When a person becomes handicapped they stop being "normal". Some normal people tend to think the handicapped person doesn't know anything or they're at the bottom of the barrel. In my case, before I became handicapped I was the Young Women's President at church, as well as had many skills and knew several things. Just because I'm handicapped doesn't mean that my personality changed, nor does it mean that I forgot all my skills and don't have any knowledge. No! I'm the same person on the inside although I'm different on the outside.

I don't want to be disregarded to do some things that "normal" people do just because I have a handicap. I'll say something if it's too much for me, but I can do some things and say, "Please, let me try!" I strive to improve myself even though I have a handicap. I've always wanted to become more and truly believe that having a handicap has taught me many things about myself; things that could only be learned through having my challenge. I totally believe that I don't stop improving just because I have a handicap.

Challenges make people stronger
For me, a lot of learning has been accomplished during my challenge. Comparing the person I am today to me five years ago shows vast improvement. For example, I had a weaker personality back then and am much stronger today. To me, having a challenge is a blessing instead of a curse because so many good things happen as a result of it. Honestly, I shudder to think what life would be like if I hadn't gotten challenged.

Every challenge can become a blessing when given the chance to be a blessing. The challenges aren't as important as the lessons learned from them. Being the religious person that I am, I truly believe that God wanted to teach me something so he gave me a challenge. I believe these words with all my heart: "All these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good". When I first became handicapped I didn't consider it for my good, but as I look back over the last five years I can clearly see the blessings.

Everyone is handicapped in some way
My challenge is physical - everyone can see it, but most people's challenges aren't seen. Everyone has challenges.

• Would it be fair to the person with a challenge, who asked to do more, if they weren't even considered to fill a need because they "had too much on their plate"?
• If they ask for it, why not help them instead of overprotecting?
• It's nice to pamper a person who seems to have a hard time, but when they say, "I can do more" isn't it crazy to not let them try? 

We don't have to stop being nice or caring when a person with a challenge says, "Thank you for caring about me. Please, let me do more. Let's make this thing work." If they want to try then why not let them? God gives us challenges because he see's more in us than we see in ourselves. When we learn from our challenges we become strong. I'm reminded of what my favorite philosopher said: "Asking is the beginning of receiving. Make sure you don't go to the ocean with a teaspoon. At least take a bucket so the kids won't laugh at you."

Help people
Let's help people improve when they ask for it.

Does Every Cloud Have a Silver Lining?

My Challenge

It's taken me five years to get through the "this sucks" phase of dealing with life with MS. I've accepted my reality (that I have MS) because my life with MS feels more normal than my life without MS. Don't get me wrong, from time to time I still recall what I used to do, the difference is that now I realize "it is what it is" and don't get bummed.

MS threw me for a loop. My life did not go in the direction I thought it would. But here's the good thing - I didn't get defeated! I didn't let the crummy disease take over my will and my mindset and make me an eternally bitter person. My challenge caused me to think negatively for a while but not permanently. (I needed some time to figure out, "What do I do now?") Something big happened to me that turned my life upside down, and it took me a while to re-discover myself. But a bad situation also caused me to discover many good things about myself - including some things that I wouldn't acknowledge.

Thoughts on Challenges

Hard things happen to everyone. The key is that when I don't get defeated but instead learn from the hard thing, I end up knowing so much more than just knowing that I face something hard. 

How I Look at Life

I'm an optimist who would rather focus on blue sky and sunshine than on clouds. I love life, and realize that I can work on developing qualities and skills even when I have a challenge. I'm like water, if I can find a way to do it I will.

What is the Focus?

No longer do I feel like lamenting - thank you for listening to me. Now, I want to focus on the silver linings; the good that comes from facing hard things. To answer my question, does every cloud have a silver lining? Yes.

Finally, I Can Truly Acknowledge the Truth About My Illness

I moved on with my life (stopped focusing on my illness) because enough time went by with me living my new normal that it felt more 'normal' than my old normal. Before I moved on, I just wanted what I'd had. This is the first time that I've even wanted to candidly acknowledge the truth about my illness, and can do so without crying. I've acknowledged components of my character (how I'm strong, I won't give in, I can do it, etc.) but I've never positively acknowledged my illness. I've never been a support to anyone (I've felt that I needed support rather than that I could give it.) And, I can relate to anyone who is dealing with something hard; not just people with MS. I understand the pain, the disappointment, and the grief of dealing with adversity. Nothing challenges you more than a trial - I can truly attest to that. And, nothing will tell you, better than a trial, what your made of - I can attest to that too.

Life isn't always happiness and roses, sometimes life is hard. I truly believe, however, that my attitude determines whether my challenges are hard or easy. Looking on the bright side and counting my blessings helps me to see good things, too - not just bad things. I believe that hope allows me to live my life and to continue to progress, instead of just getting blindsided by challenges and never continuing to grow. Focusing on the hope of achieving another goal redirects my focus off of my challenge. My illness, although still there, isn't my main focus. (Say that a person with a challenge also has kids. When they focus on their kids, their focus isn't on their challenge, and over time their pain hurts less, they have better perspective, and can choose what to do with their life instead of just being railroaded by their challenge and doing nothing. Eventually, if they choose it, they move on.)

When I got MS, I had two choices: 1) Be defeated, or 2) Be strong. I lamented a lot about the past, and constantly wanted what I'd had. Also, I learned a lot about myself. (I wouldn't have learned about myself had I chosen defeat, because I would just have complained about my illness and never learned anything good.) My life isn't just my illness - there's more to my life than that - but I choose whether or not to let my illness consume my entire life. Of course, my illness will consume my life for a while, but eventually I will pick up the reins and be the one to drive my life, not my illness.

The Book I Received

I completed an online survey for TOFW and they said they would send me a free book in exchange for my time and thoughts. I picked a book from the three they offered. Today I opened a package from them and inside was a note saying that because of an inventory error they were sending me another book instead. This new book is a memoir by Paul Cardall called Before My Heart Stops. The cover also says "I was born with half a heart. God made up the difference." I've only read a few pages but look forward to reading the rest.

 

I was thinking about how he and Kris Belcher have such a spiritual outlook to their trials. It's been two years for me and I'm still trying to get a grip on mine. I was starting to get down on myself then a couple of things occurred to me in the blink of an eye:

1) They have struggled with their trials all their lives. I got MS out of the blue and it turned my life upside down.

2) They were born to good parents and raised to have the gospel in their lives. My dad was a non-church going Catholic who joined the church for my mom and then went inactive. I also had turmoil in my life growing up and was raised in the church by a single mom.

3) They've both been on missions and have a deep understanding of the gospel. I think I have a deep understanding of the gospel but I've never been on a mission. I don't think about the atonement first, usually first, I have a pity-party for myself.

Certain scriptures come to my mind or a song goes through my head that relates to an experience I'm having and it gives me a deeper understanding of the gospel than I had before. Also, certain experiences make it easier for me to handle this trial gracefully - but I'm no Paul Cardall or Kris Belcher. The important thing is to not compare myself to them. I'm sure my trial has a positive impact on someone and I'm grateful to help them in some small way.

Everyone Has Trials

Reflections, reflections...
Reflections of Womanhood

The woman I see reflected
In the stillness of life's own mirror,
May have the promise of life eternal,
May my life be worthy here.

I see myself in that reflection,
A chosen daughter of God above,
I know that I will be exalted
If I am pure and full of love.

Each woman receives her calling
Far before her mortal birth.
From the realms of sacred heaven
Comes the chance for life on earth.

To some the road seems easy
As we outwardly compare,
We do not know the inward struggles
That gives each her cross to bear.

The woman I see reflected
In the stillness of life's own mirror,
May have the promise of life eternal,
May my life be worthy here.

Reflections, reflections...

I love that song. The part that stands out to me is "we do not know the inward struggles that gives each her cross to bear." Everyone has trials, some we can see and some we can't. My trial is outward, but what about the person who has depression, low self-esteem, judgementalness or lack of patience? It reminds me that we need to be kind to everyone because we don't know what they are struggling with. I actually think those who have outward trials also have inward trials. I know I do. We are imperfect people trying to do our best with what we know. We need to give ourselves and others a break. Love our neighbors, as ourselves...

Hope

Kris Belcher's blog today has this quote:

"Elder Orson F. Whitney said: “No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude and humility. All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our character, purifies our heart, expands our soul, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God … and it is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we came here to acquire and which will make us more like our Father and Mother in heaven” (quoted in Spencer W. Kimball, Faith Precedes the Miracle, 98)."

I really like this quote because it reminds me that everything I experience is worthwhile (even if I don't like it). I'm glad for the opportunity I have to still learn and grow and know that the trials I face in this life won't follow me into eternity.

My New Doctor

I have a new doctor - her name is Dr. Lynch. She works at KU and
see's only MS patients. I thought she would care more about me than my current doctor and I think I am right.

I went to see her yesterday afternoon and she was very thorough in her testing. One of the things I like about her is that she listens to me. I have been telling my current doctor since October last year that I thought I was getting worse. It started with subtle things that I noticed and progressed from there. He was sure it was all in my head and said I needed a better attitude. He said I have RRMS (relapsing remitting MS) and that's it...no ifs, ands, or buts about it. That's what he diagnosed me as having and it's what most people have. They get an 'attack' but then it goes away (into remission) for a period of time before coming back. Sometimes it can go away for years and you'd never know the person had MS unless they told you. Anyway...he would cut me off when I said things and I felt stupid when I saw him. I thought, if I have a cronic illness am I not supposed to like my doctor and not feel stupid when I talk to him? I thought, I'm not going to tolerate this, so I made an appointment to see Doctor Lynch. The earliest day I could get an appointment was three months away in April but I made the appointment and looked forward to it with anticipation.

She reviewed my MRIs and records from Dr. Arkin and said it was peculiar. She said I'm not the normal MS patient because my brain only shows lesions in the brain stem. She said my balance is worse than it should be for a person my age and then she said she thinks I might have PPMS (primary progressive MS) because my symptoms have just gotten worse over time and I have never gone into remission. She thinks I should get an MRI of my neck because usually people with PPMS have more lesions in their neck than their brain.

I was relieved to hear her mention PPMS because my other doctor would never entertain the idea but I have felt more like I have PPMS than RRMS. There is no treatment nor medication for PPMS and it is more rare. Only about 10% of people with MS have PPMS. She did say however that sterhoids might help alleviate my symptoms for a time. I'm going to the hospital tomorrow for a sterhoid treatment and to have her monitor me. She was surprised that I have never had sterhoids...I have to admit I am surprised myself since that's usually the first treatment a person has. She said sometimes the sterhoids make a persons blood sugar go high and if that's the case, she will keep me in the hospital for five days, to receive all the sterhoids, instead of just one day. She said people with PPMS usually do well with sterhoids for about three weeks, then it starts to wear off and they have to get a treatment about once a month.

She doesn't think Tysabri will work for me since it's more helpful for people with RRMS. I am relieved to hear this because I really don't want to take a chance in getting that very dangerous brain disease (PML) which could be a side-affect from taking the medication.

Why am I writing all this in my blog? 1)I don't want to explain it to everyone who cares about me. I can simply say "read my blog." 2)I am trying to acknowlege my new self and therefore am posting this to the world 3)For some reason, I feel better writing it all down.

I don't know how quickly this is going to progress but I feel like I need to have a good attitude. I've heard attitude makes all the difference in whether or not a person with a chronic disease does well, and I thought I should have a good attitude too. Not only will a good attitude help me but I think it will also bring comfort to my family. I plan on living a good happy life and I want everyone to know that. I am content.

I remember what a friend said to me one time in church. I said to her one day when I was feeling sorry for myself, I'm fatal. She looked at me and said "honey, we're all fatal" that makes me laugh because it's true! We're all fatal, so why not enjoy life now. I smile as I type this and look forward to enjoying my life.