I can do small things

The last few days my heart has felt heavy. It all settled on me so subtly that I couldn't quite pinpoint the cause, though, which then meant laying in bed last night filling the dark space between my husband and me with quiet ramblings, trying to sort through what was weighing me down. Thankfully, he is a very patient and loving listener.

It started with worries for a close friend who is fighting cancer. I've been feeling unsure of how to help ease their burdens, how to show our love, how to make sure they know they aren't alone. I still don't know. But, I have to believe that God surely knows. I hope I can be aware of quiet promptings that might help me know what they might need.

Then, there's Nepal. The death toll continues to rise and my heart keeps sinking with every updated headline. I know God works in mysterious ways and is able to make beauty from ashes; I know He can take life's worst tragedies and disasters and turn them into miracles and triumph, but I just want to cry right now. Not because of a lack of faith, but simply because I feel so helpless. I just hope that my prayers and mourning can somehow ease their suffering and pain.

And, Ghana. Our youth were involved in a service project, sending school kits to a new school that has nothing. I just got photos, showing the children receiving their kits. I was told they were so happy they were dancing around, chanting, "we are so happy! We are so happy!" I haven't been able to stop looking through the photos. My heart is warmed seeing their smiles, but I can't help but notice the edges of poverty framing each photo, the lack of common comforts that I totally take for granted. We sent them some simple supplies that I hope can make some small difference, but I just wish it could have been so much more.

I have so much. I have health and comfort and security. I know those aren't givens and all can be taken away in an instant, but I just have so much abundance that I wish I could transfer some of my excess to make things more even. I keep telling myself there's a reason and a plan. But, I don't get it. Why are some born into so much and others born into so little? The one thing that keeps echoing in my heart is that in my abundance I have a responsibility to give in any and every way I can. Maybe part of the test of life is to seek to even things out, to find people with less and give of our excess.

I feel an urgent need to relieve human suffering. Obviously with three little ones that are my happy priority right now, I'm not exactly available to travel the world doing humanitarian work, but I'm finding that there are little things I can do. I find inspiration in the words of Mother Teresa:

“Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”

My heaviness comes from feeling helpless not hopeless. I take comfort in knowing that I can do small things and hope that somehow it can help someone somewhere. Today I'm going to think of those sweet school children in Ghana who have a new set of colored pencils and the joy they might be feeling to be able to finally draw a rainbow. And, then I'm going to open my eyes and my ears, seeking for opportunities to spread light and love in my own neighborhood.

Burning fevers

"Too often we are so busy checking on our own temperatures, we do not notice the burning fevers of others."

- Neal A. Maxwell

Yesterday I mentioned some words of advice I received five years ago that have helped me lately. It was actually a priesthood blessing that Marc gave me just after my miscarriage. I was promised that I would find healing as I sought out opportunities to bring joy to others through acts of service. I was experiencing such deep emotions at the time that I was honestly frustrated by those words. I hate to admit that now, but I didn't understand how I was expected to serve others at a time when I didn't feel like I had anything to give. The phrase stuck with me constantly for a couple of days, until I finally decided that I would put it to the test and see if, in fact, healing would come.

All I remember is one day making loaves and loaves of bread and taking them to some of our neighbors. It was something so simple, but the advice was exactly right... I did find healing come to me as I looked for ways to help those around me. Even in very small ways. I got out of my comfort zone, and was able to see that I wasn't the only one with challenges.

It has been interesting to go to the grocery store or to be out in public right now, knowing that all the pain I have inside is completely unknown to most people I come in contact with. There is no outward indication of what is going on in my heart. And, as I watch people now, I find myself wondering what they might be experiencing that goes unnoticed to everyone else. If I can feel such intense heartache and still appear to be functioning like a normal person, I wonder what all these other "normal-looking" people are thinking about, worrying about, what burdens are weighing them down.

It reminds me of a talk by Elder Eyring from a few years ago that has always stayed with me. Here is just the very beginning of that talk:

When I was a young man, I served as counselor to a wise district president in the Church. He tried to teach me. One of the things I remember wondering about was this advice he gave: "When you meet someone, treat them as if they were in serious trouble, and you will be right more than half the time." I thought then that he was pessimistic. Now, more than 40 years later, I can see how well he understood the world and life.

Just like I have troubles that are painful and unknown to others, I know that, chances are, most people in my life have quiet sufferings as well. As I've been thinking about these things lately, I've found myself seeking for the strength and courage to put it into practice once again. I've had small glimpes lately of the healing that comes from finding ways to help others. And, those small glimpes are motivation enough to continue seeking the Lord's direction in who and how to help. I know He knows my quiet moments of suffering, because of people He has sent to comfort me in the precise moment I was needing it. So, I know He knows who else is going through quiet struggles, and can guide me to them, if I'm open to His promptings.

I understand there are still going to be moments when I'll need to grieve and have some quiet time to myself. But, I know there is truth in the promise I received five years ago, that healing will come through service. In the midst of pain, it is really hard to seek for ways to serve others, but I'm learning that we can do hard things, with the Lord's help. And, in return, I know He will bless us in abundance for what little we give.