A little bit of remodel pics

I'm told this was just the beginning of the heroic and generous onslaught of workers that came to my house on Friday. My mom and dad were wise and experienced enough to know that during this period the house would not be user friendly. A HUGE thank you to Auntie and Uncle who watched the munchkins for the majority of the day while Grandmother and I ran around from store to store, getting some details squared away while she was in town, and while Grandfather waved his arms around, walked purposefully from room to room, and overall appeared very busy when in fact he had know idea what to do next. (Just kidding, Dad!) Several worker bees had already been at the house throughout the previous several days, getting started on individual projects. In the picture above, you can see the new windows. What a difference! It makes me feel like I'm in a different house. Truth is, the windows before served us just fine, but if I can look at things through some rose colored glasses right now, then I'm all game for that. Plus, who wants to pay more on their heating bill? Not me...nothing like being economical and lookin' good doing it. (I mean the windows, not me...) I've tried to upload these pictures in an order that makes some kind of sense. Some of them are out of order, but you'll get the general idea of some of the stuff going on around here. Below is the picture of what used to be the wall between the kitchen and the upstairs living room. Naki always always wanted to knock this wall out. Therefore, no more wall.

Here are all the girls lined up, ooohing and ahhhing as Grandfather did 'karate kicks' on the wall. At the time I was upstairs getting ready in my bathroom and I could hear all these girly squeals and cheering. I turned my blowdryer off, only to hear Grandfather say, "Do you want to see Grandfather do a Karate Kick?" The crowd went wild, or very squealy. Then after the kick I heard him say, "Now do you want to see Grandfather do a Karate punch?". Again, the audience was in raptures. It was so so so cute.

The beam still there is holding the current wiring. It will eventually be gone.

This picture is out of order, but I can't seem to change it for some reason. Here is the kitchen before it got cleaned up, after the windows were changed to doors, after the kitchen window was scooted over some, and after the initial wall for the island was put up.

Here's the head honcho for the project getting tough with the kitchen wall in order to move the window over.

Our dear friend worked several days along with his friend to replace all of the windows in our house. Like I've already said, they just look stunning.

This part of the remodel was Naki's plan for this coming year's tax return. Don't know how he would of made it happen, but I know he would have. He was pretty determined. This was the beginning of the kitchen window removal in order to change them to doors.

This is so crazy fun! Thank you to all those who came over and helped that I don't even know were here. You are helping to bless me and mine by making our lives in this space I call home functional and easier for me. Thank you so very much.

Lightening Bolts

This past little while has been the most miserable, exasperating, lonely, distraught, hopeless, depressive, and wishing-I-was-dead-too several days that I believe I have experienced in a long time. "A long time" seems somewhat strange to say, seeing as how it's only been 46 days since he's died. Hmmm...I can't believe that I've made it 46 days. I think the words 'a long time' are fitting, after all. On the first day I didn't think I would make it to the second day, let alone the 46th day.

I haven't been blogging much lately. There are several several reasons. One reason is that excluding the natural and most obvious chaos that we're experiencing around here because our Daddy is not here with us, we are in the midst of crazy house-remodeling-chaos. We are the luckiest people. We are getting to have so many fun things done inside the house right now, including brand new and stunningly beautiful windows, wall removals, rooms being painted, furniture moving (not the normal moving...this moving is through windows that needed to be removed to accomodate our favorite extra large furniture, plus furniture being passed along some massive manly shoulders, up on the roof ledge, and up through the addition window!), piano moving, closet reorganizing, kitchen emptying, more wall removal to change windows to doors, window moving, kitchen cupboard removal, kitchen sink removal!, and whole kitchen removal. Plus new appliances arriving by special mover delivery all the way from Northern Idaho spearheaded by my ever reliable mom, flooring and patio design and such, packing and organizing all kitchen drawer stuffs spearheaded by my dad, and now eating our meals in the garage. (Thanks for that, too, Grandfather!) Thank heavens for a large garage...we not only have new shelves built in there, (Thanks, guys!), but are able to store all the new kitchen appliances, old kitchen appliances, living room furniture, bikes, toys, laundry machines, microwaves, flooring, new windows, and everything else under the sun. Oh yeah, the car, too. Needless to say, it is crazy over here. Crazy, and yet fun in a strange and twisted way. Some may say this is not the best time for all of this craziness, but I say why not. It has been good for me to have something else to think about besides my misery for a change. And truthfully, it is so dang fulfilling to see all the things Naki had planned inside his head come to fruition for his house. He really wanted to do all these things so badly. And because of him and people's love for him, we're able to do it. Thank you to all of those who are giving so generously of their talents, their supplies, their connections, and their patience as we figure all of this remodel stuff out! Today we drove my mom and my brother Tim to the airport. We'd been gone a while, and it was getting close to lunch time. Eva was finished with being in the car and was anxious to get back home to eat. She whined to us, "I hungry for the garage!" Apparently, she doesn't mind eating out there. They say it may take about 2 weeks to get all of this accomplished, which in remodeling speak, is pretty amazing. That is unheard of, since they're building the cabinets and everything in that period of time. I can't wait to see all of it come together. So bittersweet. Finally getting to do all of our house dreams, but without him to enjoy it with. *sigh*

The main reason I haven't been blogging is somewhat complex. When I first started writing soon after Naki died, it was because I found that I needed an outlet of sorts to help me explore my feelings and my experience with grief and loss. It was so therapeutic for me that I would find myself thinking or processing an emotion I was feeling and knew that I just had to sit down and write it out. After doing so for a couple of weeks, I was surprised to find how many were rooting for me and were strengthened by my thoughts and words. This was something I hadn't expected, and found that Heavenly Father uses all of us and all of our experiences for each other's good. If we don't pay attention to those around us, their experiences, and at least try to learn from them, then we are fools. So I realized that I had the opportunity to use my experience for the good of others. This empowered me, and yet it crippled me. I soon found myself feeling an emotion that I would normally have written about, and yet started editing those emotions in my head before writing about them. I found myself feeling that if I actually wrote out the dark dark dark and draining thoughts and emotions that I was actually thinking or feeling, those reading would not be strengthened from my words but would instead be saddened, depressed, and discouraged. And so I would not write, but instead would go to sleep and cry. Not that I didn't do that before, but this time it was different. I wasn't healing...I felt stagnant.

One of the things I read in a book a friend gave me about how to survive the loss of a loved one is that the grieving process is not to be pictured as a slanted line that starts at the bottom and gradually and continually moves up and up. Instead, it is to be pictured as a lightening bolt. It starts at the same spot as the afore mentioned line, and in fact may start moving upward on a slant. But instead of continually moving in that direction, you may come back down in a straight unslanted line, move surprisingly forward, and shockingly back, jagged and unsmooth, jolting and painfully unpredictable. That is exactly how this whole thing feels. I was so furious on the 2nd day after his death. I got through that bout of anger and felt relieved when it was over. I naively thought that *Whew!*...I've made it through the anger. Little did I know that it was only the tip of the iceberg. I've been revisiting anger for the past week, and it's been a doosey. No one should have to experience this kind of anger. I thought I was dealing with it, until one night I woke up in a cold sweat from a series of dreams in which I was beating up anyone I met with a 2x4. I was pretty fierce, and the worst part was that I didn't feel any remorse, whatsoever. Apparently, I'm pretty damn mad. Yes, I said damn. I've also discovered that I can swear up a good blue streak. So far, only in my mind. I'm working super hard on controlling it and not developing any mental habits that I don't want hanging around forever. But truthfully sometimes those words are the only words that can honestly express the anger that I feel oozing from my soul. I had a heartbreaking moment this past weekend at my niece's baptism, when I realized that I had been holding so hard onto this anger...I was enjoying being furious beyond description. It occurred to me while I sat there at that beautiful service that if I don't work through this anger, and decide to not hold on to it as my new identity, then I will in fact carry it with me beyond this life. If there is anything I know for sure, it's that you can't take your "things", your mortal possessions, with you after this life is over. What you can take with you is what you have learned, your knowledge, who you've become, and the love or hate you've developed towards the people you encounter in this life. It was a shocking moment for me to realize that when I die, if it was tomorrow, that I would carry that horribly drowning, strangling, and suffocating feeling of hatred towards my Heavenly famly and myself forever. There would be no hugging going on, only a bunch of punching, kicking, screaming, crying, etc...heaven help us all if I happen upon a 2x4 there...So, now I'm working, AGAIN, on getting through my extreme anger.

That, in a not-so-short summation, is why I haven't been writing. I've been worried that I wouldn't help anyone by being so negative and quite frankly, a huge downer. But, I had a huge realization this past weekend that writing is not for anyone reading but is in fact part of MY healing process. If I offend, sadden, or depress anyone, I apologize. But just hang in there...on this lightening bolt-shaped ride of grief, there are some really horrible moments. I worried that they would get old and repetitive. But now I know that it is important that they repeat...they teach me over and over again the doctrines that will help me heal. One time just isn't enough. I need lots and lots of repitition of the teachings of the Savior that heal and purify. And so, just like the awful and wishing-you-weren't-alive moments, there are hopeful and uplifting moments as well. Currently, there are more of the former, but I can hope that the balance will gradually shift and change, and jolt me back to a new and better place.

Good Grief.... Therapy #1

We started grief therapy two Thursdays ago and I am still feeling good about it. You know it's a good thing for all the girlies when they can't stop talking about how much fun they had and when, like last time, Eli kept asking "Are we leaving to go to therapy yet, Mom?". She was DYING to get there. My first meeting with the therapists was by myself. It was several weeks ago, and served mostly as a get-to-know session: getting to know the kids (names and ages), getting to know their initial reactions to Naki dying, getting to know their chosen form or forms of coping with this death, and overall getting to know what I wanted to accomplish and my insights into the entire situation. I prefaced one of my questions with "I know it's almost impossible to answer this question..." and then asked them how long they thought this process might take. They, as I expected, can't put a real timeline on healing, but did say that you can tell if the girlies really need it if they keep asking to go, and that the opposite was also true. If you told them that it was time to go to therapy and they were resisting, it meant that they really didn't need it any longer. It has been fascinating to watch the girls' different emotions and reactions during the session. The therapist I initially met with practices with 2 other licensed therapists. He thought that it might be beneficial for our situation to meet first as a group and see the different dynamics that arose. It was clear at the first session that Eva was not developmentally able to hang with the other girls, as far as attention span, thought processing into verbalizing, etc. So after the first week they've separated them. Eva now goes on a separate day than the other girls...oh yay...one additional appointment I must be responsible for. I don't doubt that Heavenly Father keeps me busy now, and has always kept me busy even before Naki died, because I know myself and recognize my naturally lazy tendencies. If given the choice, I'd lounge around all day, maybe take a shower before 5:00, and rent movies with one easy click of the remote. Alas, that is not to be.

The first group session we attended was hard for me. Not only emotionally, but hard because of the girls' chaotic behaviors. They started the session by speaking with me privately to give me the opportunity to inform them of any updates that had occurred since we'd last spoken. During this chat I learned something fascinating about the brain that I wanted to share. I've always known that the brain has different areas that are responsible for different functions of our body. I learned that the area that holds Trauma and Emotion is in the back, while the area responsible for Speaking and Thought Processing is located in the front. This would explain why I feel so tongue tied when trying to express my emotions for all I'm experiencing right now. Sometimes it literally feels like there are no words in the human language to express this pain, disappointment, and shock. They then informed me that Creativity is with Trauma and Emotion, thus their reasoning for working creatively during their sessions. It occurred to me later that this may be why it has been so healthy for me to try and write creatively about my thoughts and feelings, even though at times the words are hard to find.

After our first chat we headed as a group downstairs to a huge playroom that has pretty much no furniture. It's in a basement, so to speak, so there are no windows. But there are shelves surrounding the room at one end, and buckets of various playthings all around with a whiteboard covering the opposite wall of the shelves. It is here that they work on whatever creative project they'd planned for the session. After we finished downstairs, we headed back upstairs, where they again met with me privately to discuss any of their thoughts or insights. The first week we went downstairs as a group. The girls were, as many kids would be, in new-toy heaven. Everything there was new to them. Subsequently, when they were told by the therapists to come have a seat, they were not the best listeners. The purpose of the first session was to start helping the kids develop some trust. They did puppet play, which was fascinating to listen to. They asked all of us, me included, to go and pick a puppet out of this huge pile that we felt would best represent ourselves. Then we were supposed to use the puppet in a short skit to tell about ourselves. I was seriously impressed with the therapists as they were able to take what the kids "acted" and applied it to who the girls are individually, especially since several of them didn't really say anything about themselves, and instead acted out a scene between them and their Dad. After each girl had finished their turn, the therapists would restate what they'd learned about whomever's turn it had been. They were eerily accurate. I was also seriously impressed with each of the girls. I loved hearing what they had to say, and they were so brave to just sit down and interact with these new adults whom they'd never before met. In some ways it must have felt a bit safe, because there was no right or wrong answer.

Can I just say, that I was caught off guard when it was my turn. I didn't expect to get emotional. I've heard Oprah describe herself crying as the "Ugly cry". I may have not ever seen myself cry, but I've heard myself try to talk while crying, and it just sounds ugly. Uuugh. How do those people who cry and sing at the same time do it? They look so graceful with a tear peacefully streaming down one cheek as they give their big finish...Me? Not so graceful.

The second part they asked us to do was to go back to the pile of puppets and this time we were to pick one that to each of us represented Naki. We were to act out things about Naki to both therapists, since they would not have the opportunity to meet him. Again, very amazing process, considering that once again the girls were indirect in their skits.

Well, as a side note, that's not entirely accurate, the part about not having the opportunity to meet him. Despite how miserable I am with my new widowed state, I am able to see some of the tender mercies of the Lord in my life, some of which happened long ago that I am only now able to recognize for their true purpose. One of which was Naki being able to coach Lose's T-Ball team last summer. It was the greatest experience. It was extremely unusual for Naki to be able to do such a thing with his crazy 2-jobs-or-more work schedules. I remember when we went to sign up Lose, which we did late, that they told us her team still did not have a coach. I called Naki on the spot and he agreed to do it, not knowing how it would work itself out. Of course, it did, and he had a great time with all of those beautiful kids. Instead of using the word 'coincidence', I'm using the words 'tender mercy', when I tell you that it turns out that one of the boys on the team is the son of one of our therapists. This therapist was able to have some interaction with Naki which I think is priceless as he works to help our girlies. I know this connection was one more way the Lord has allowed me to see that He loves me and thinks of me, even before I knew I needed it or in ways that I didn't see it's significance until now.

When I first met with the therapists at the get-to-know session, they informed me that when we are there I get to turn off the parent switch and let them take over. They want the kids to interract with me but not, I guess, have to worry about minding their p's and q's while I'm there. They even told me that they let the kids come in and play with all of the toys and then purposely do not make them clean up the mess. They described it as making someone eat their own throwup. Eeew, I know, but if you think about it, it does make sense. So as I sat there and watched Malia doing her skit, and Lose reached over and snatched Malia's puppet from her hand mid-sentence, I grumbled inside. Then when I watched Eli, wearing a skirt, lay on her back and lift her legs over her head, several times, I shifted uncomfortably and heroicly refrained from making her sit up and pay attention to whomever's turn it was. When they asked Malia to stop drawing on the white board and come join the group on the floor and she didn't, I bit down hard on my tongue. And when Line was trying to turn around and not look at her sisters because they were embarassing her, I didn't tell her that it would be okay. This "not parenting" thing is hard! First I complain about parenting, and then I complain about NOT parenting. So after we had finished our first puppeting experience and were going back for our second, I asked the therapists if I could tell the kids something. They said of course, and then I proceeded to tell the kids that they still needed to be respectful to each other. After I'd finished, the therapists kindly put me in my place by saying, "Don't worry about that...leave that up to us. You just come sit down." *gulp* After the session was completed, they'd informed me that next time they'll start with the kids only and work with them on whatever project they're doing for the day, and then I come in at the end to let the girls explain everything they'd worked on to me. I've been officially booted! I misbehaved. I knew better, too, but I just couldn't take all the poor behavior! They explained to me that the reason they would have me wait to come in at the end was to spare me pain from anything the kids expressed, and also to give the kids permission to express anything they felt. I've learned the hard way, when Eva has screamed to me over and over, "I Hate You!", (which she has never said and that I'd never even heard expressed in our house), that kids often blame the living parent for the deceased parent's death. They want the girls to be able to explore those feelings without me present. Otherwise, the girls never will process those emotions while I'm there for fear of hurting my feelings.

I know that some parents feel that their children's behavioral choices are a direct reflection of the parent, but not me. I know that I've taught them well. For me, when they act like they were acting, it's a direct reflection on themselves! And it was killing me to see them putting themselves out there like that. During our post-session chat, they explained to me that they were thrilled to see all that chaotic behavior coming from the girls. Their somewhat disrespectful and crazy behavior, they said, is an outward sign of their inner chaos as they confront head on all of their grief.

*lightbulb moment*

They told me that had they been able to sit perfectly still, stay on their spot, quietly walk from place to place, come when called, hold eye contact, not interrupt, etc etc, they would have been concerned. At this stage of the game, that type of behavior would mean that they would be repressing their emotions, which is not healthy for healing. So hurray for us! We're definitely on the road for healing...I'll remember that when 5 out of 6 are crying at the same time, no one will listen to me, I'M even crying, and it's only 7:30 in the morning.

Drained

Sundays drain me..I know I've said it before, but it seems even more true today. But, it's another Sunday or even another day that I don't have to repeat ever again. One more day closer to my goal, being with God, the Savior, and Naki again. So, that's something good, right? But, being so drained, I will post later. I've started a post about the therapy sessions we've attended so far, and hopefully I'll get to finishing that it soon. For all of those who read to keep up with my sweet little family, know that we feel your love and most especially your prayers...keep 'em comin.

Today

Today I dream of unconciousness...

Oh, the Trepidation...

My dad is convinced that I will do just fine, but I still feel unsettled. When Naki and I started having our precious babies, we struck a deal...and a fine one too. We agreed that I would take responsibility for the kids from 0 - 12, and he would take over after that. Sounded really good to me...shoulda known that it was too good to be true. I am much more comfortable parenting the young'ns rather than the teenagers. And he is just so dang good and smart about what they think and feel, that it was an easy decision on our part. Well, now, obviously, that just isn't going to work anymore. I'm just a tad ticked about that. I put in a lot of years on my end of the deal, and am not thrilled to realize that the rest is in my court as well, only because I am convinced that Naki would do a better job with teenagers than I would.

Well, he's not here and technically we don't have any teenagers yet. But still, I am having a bit of anxiety about making my first major parental decision without him. It involves Line, and it's scaring me. Will I make a choice that will benefit her and not place her in a position to be harmed? I really never liked the pressure that comes with this parenting thing. And Naki being gone is only making it worse. Can't they just grow up, turn out wonderful inside and out, and I can breathe a sigh of relief that I'm done with this rough and nail-biting time? Eeoohh Boy...

My 'some day soon'

Eli said to me a while ago, "I wasn't ready for Dad to die, but I'm still okay". I must second that. I will never be ready to go on without him, but oddly enough, today I feel somewhat okay with our strange life. Not happy, not joyful, not cheerful, and not pleased, but just okay. Okay enough to wake up and start my body moving in the general direction I need to go to accomplish whatever it is that I have to do today. Okay enough to cry when I want to and to not cry when I don't have to. Okay enough to be around my siblings, in laws, and their spouses, even though I feel like the odd man out. Not great, but okay. I'd say that's a bit of progress.



We went for a walk up the Provo canyon a couple of weeks ago after church. Oh, what peace it brings to my spirit to be surrounded by nature. I don't really love camping, but I love nature. Just breathing in the air, walking at a leisurely pace, stopping and starting a million times as all the little pairs of feet around me set the pace for our stroll. It filled me up. I did, however, realize a future predicament as I stood and let them throw rocks in the river. How, in the heck, am I going to teach them anything athletic? I had a vivid image in my mind of when we went to St. George this past spring. We stopped at a dam with Naki's cousin, his wife, and their children. The wind was blowing a little crazy, but all the kids were searchng the ground for little rocks to throw in the water. I have pictures of Naki teaching the girls how to skip a rock, a skill I have never been able to master. I'm lucky the rock goes foward and doesn't somehow get released on my windup, going completely the wrong way. Sounds impossible, but it's been known to happen. I want them to love doing fun athletic things the way they did when their Dad was here to do it with them. I had a moment of panic while I watched them all throwing rocks into the Provo River because I realized I completely fall short in not only that department, but many others as well. The feeling quickly subsided when I realized that they have many athletic Uncles and Grandpas that will take care of that for me. I find myself in this position often. In The Book of Mormon we are taught that we can either choose to be humble, or we can be compelled to be humble. Needing other people to do things for me that I so wish I could do for myself always brings me to feel compelled to be humble. How I wish I could do so many of the things that the girls need on my own. But I am so blessed to have family and friends who want to and are completely capable of filling in where I fall short. Not only that, but I think the girls need the interaction that comes from the time spent with all those people that love them and their Dad so.



I was reading my sister-in-law's blog the other day, well, actually, it was probably more like a couple of weeks ago. She was writing about her husband, Naki's younger brother, and his wish for time to fly. I cannot tell you how much that put into words an emotion I'd been feeling and continue to feel but hadn't been able to verbalize. In no way do I want to miss out on all the amazing life experiences and memories yet to come into my life because of my children and their futures. But if it were possible I wish I could go to sleep tonight and when I wake up in the morning I would be an elderly woman who had lived my life and completed all I knew I should, and was done. I just want to be done. Done with this temporal life and moving onto my eternal future with my best friend. But, it is not to be. I cannot wish this time away, no matter how much I miss him. I feel badly admitting those feelings because by doing so I imagine it appears to some that I have more love for him than I do for others here still alive. Not so...I know it doesn't make sense to many of you. But if you have ever grieved a loss like this, I think you'd understand. I just want to be done. I sometimes wish I could unzip my skin and crawl out of it so I could escape all the pain. Again, it is not to be. My future plays out with such contradictions in my imagination. I know that logically it must be possible to have happines and joy in my life, but don't know how that's even remotely possible. I know I'll have joy in my kids, but what about personal joy for myself? Something to be happy about and look forward to... I don't see it happening any time soon. It must be enough to seek happiness for the girlies. That alone will suffice.



I've been wanting to tell all of my loving friends and family that I promise I'm not avoiding any one particular person, if in fact you've tried to reach me and have been unsuccessful. I can't adequately describe what a day in the life of Abby is like. I may hear my phone ringing but am consoling a child, or taking a much needed nap and so ignore it. I may or may not find the time to listen to the message you left me, and may or may not find the time to return your call. I get all of your emails, but by the time I've read them I no longer have time to respond. I love texting, but get half way through a text and am interrupted. Just know that I love all of you and feel strengthened when I hear your messages and read your loving emails and texts.



I mentioned in my last post how devastated I was Friday night. I was trying to express to my Bishop on Sunday morning what is hardest about all of this, and he chose the perfect word to describe it..."companionship". I mourn the loss of companionship, in all it's variations. In many ways I'm a very fortunate widow. My learning curve for temporal situations I find myself in is very minimal since I encountered those same situations before Naki died. It is the companionship I miss the most. It really stinks to come upstairs at night and not have him there to fill in on all the details of the day and the things the kids said or did, and what does he think I should do about such and such? His insights are greatly missed and are not replaceable. That's what sent me over the edge on Friday night was the loss of the companionship that I had expected to have at times that I will no longer have it. I was crying so hard that I literally could not breathe! Not a great combination, nor all that flattering. I have a basket beside my bed that I continue to pile things that I need to read for moments just like this. When I am so distraught the only thing that keeps me anchored is to read the words of the Savior and his prophets. I believe it was the same day Naki died, or maybe the day after, that a friend dropped off an envelope with these words written on the outside.



"Abby...When I read this in my religion class today I had a strong feeling that I needed to give it to you. Maybe not for today...but for some day soon. "

Inside was a printout of the talk given by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Second Counselor in the First Presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I hadn't felt strong enough to read the words when they were given to me that day, and so placed it in my basket to read when it felt right. My 'some day soon' had definitely arrived. I opened it up and was astonished at how strongly I felt that the words I was reading had specifically been written for me at that precise moment of my life. I was in such despair, and hadn't been able to put a name to that emotion until I read his words. The talk is titled, "The Infinite Power of Hope". Naki's name, Amanaki, means 'Hope', and so reading his thoughts on hope held even powerful symbolism for me. One of the first paragraphs reads,



"...Perhaps today I could sit by your side and by the side of any who might feel discouraged, worried, or lonely. Today I would like to speak with you about the infinite power of hope."



I futher read, "Hope has the power to fill our lives with happiness. Its absence -when this desire of our heart is delayed - can make 'the heart sick'.



This touched me...my "Hope", Naki, fills my life with happiness. His absence has truly made my heart sick. As I read on I was struck by a certain part about my responsibility towards fixing the absence of hope in my life. He says,



"Hope is a gift of the Spirit. Is is a hope that through the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the power of His Resurrection, we shall be raised unto life eternal and this because of our faith in the Savior. This kind of hope is both a principle of promise as well as a commandment, and, as with all commandments, we have the responsibility to make it an active part of our lives and overcome the temptation to lose hope. " At this point I realized that I had chosen to wallow in the feeling of losing hope. I didn't want to feel like there was any hope for me and my temporal future. This sentence sent a jolt of recognition through me that I needed to knock it off and overcome this temptation that stood in my way. Clearly I had stumbled, fallen, and decided to stay down over my feelings of no hope.



He proceeded to talk about the opposite of hope, which is despair. As he spoke of despair I was shocked to read those words and even more shocked to realize that they perfectly described my feelings that evening. Until then I hadn't realized that despair was the word that I was personifying. It was as if I'd found despair, crawled into it, and decided that since it felt the most comfortable out of all the other emotions I'd been living, that I'd stay there with it for as long as I pleased.



"The adversary uses despair to bind hearts and minds in suffocating darkness. Despair drains from us all that is vibrant and joyful and leaves behind the empty remnants of what life was meant to be. Despair kills ambition, advances sickness, pollutes the soul, and deadens the heart. Despair can seem like a staircase that leads only and forever downward."



Whoa. That perfectly put into words what I was feeling right then. It shocked me at what my feelings looked like in the written word. I read that paragraph over and over and over. It took me a while to let the words sink into myself and for the realization to hit me that I really didn't like the way despair fit me. I read on...



"Hope, on the other hand, is like the beam of sunlight rising up and above the horizon of our present circumstances. It pierces the darkness with a brilliant dawn. It encourages and inspires us to place our trust in the loving care of an eternal Heavenly Father, who has prepared a way for those who seek for eternal truth in a world of... confusion and of fear."



"Hope is not knowledge, but rather the abiding trust that the Lord will fulfill His promise to us. It is confidence that if we live according to God's laws and the words of His prophets now, we will receive desired blessings in the future. It is believing and expecting that our prayers will be answered. It is manifest in confidence, optimism, enthusiasm, and patient perseverance."



Ummm....yeah. Well, I was definitely not exuding any hope. I'd definitely dialed into despair and found I could wallow there pretty comfortably. And since then I find myself there again for a moment or two. But having read these words after experiencing such a personal tragedy I'll never be able to stay there for long. I'd never realized until at that moment how much Naki truly lived up to his name. He exudes hope.



"The things we hope for are often future events. If only we could look beyond the horizon of mortality into what awaits us beyond this life. Is it possible to imagine a more glorious future than the one prepared for us by our Heavenly Father? Because of the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, we need not fear, for we will live forever, never to taste of death again." "No matter how bleak the chapter of our lives may look today, because of the life and sacrifice of Jesus Christ, we may hope and be assured that the ending of the book of our lives will exceed our grandest expectations."



"The things we hope in sustain us during our daily walk. They uphold us through trials, temptations, and sorrow. Everyone has experienced discouragement and difficulty. Indeed, there are times when the darkness may seem unbearable. It is in these times that the divine principles of the restored gospel we hope in can uphold us and carry us until, once again, we walk in the light...Because God has been faithful and kept His promises in the past, we can hope with confidence that God will keep His promises to us in the present and in the future. In times of distress, we can hold tightly to the hope that things will 'work together for our good' as we follow the counsel of God's prophets. This type of hope in God, His goodness, and His power refreshes us with courage during difficult challenges and gives strength to those who feel threatened by enclosing walls of fear, doubt, and despair."



"There may be times when we must make a courageous decision to hope even when everything around us contradicts this hope." "Hope sustains us through despair. Hope teaches that there is reason to rejoice even when all seems dark around us."



The very end of the talk struck me so strongly. I realized that I had read exactly what the Lord had wanted me to read. It was in fact my 'some day soon' and I had learned so much. The final words of comfort read,

"And to all who suffer - to all who feel discouraged, worried, or lonely - I say with love and deep concern for you, never give in.



Never surrender.



Never allow despair to overcome your spirit.



Embrace and rely upon the Hope of Israel, for the love of the Son of God pierces all darkness, softens all sorrow, and gladdens every heart."




One thing I know, even when I do feel the overwhelming emotion called despair. I will never surrender.