Shattered

I have a bit of a personal confession to make. . . on the day Luke past, my faith was shattered. Kind of like a window one shuts to hard or a door that is slammed, there are large shards of glass still intact, or pieces still affixed tightly to the frame, clinging to life. But, there are those pieces that break into a million pieces that, at the time, seemed gone, never be recovered.

I have to teach a lesson in Relief Society in a few weeks on faith in Jesus Christ. I have been contemplating how I would teach this lesson when my faith is so broken. Last night, I decided to study the lesson and read through it. It said the same things I knew and have heard my whole life. That, if one has sufficient faith, a miracle will follow. THAT is the principle I have struggled with the most since Luke's death. Because I prayed, I had faith, and he was not healed. Why? Was my faith not sufficient enough? What about the times when prayers are not answered with the miracle? I set out to find the answer. I got out books written by prophets, specifically I read a book by Thomas S. Monson, written when he was an apostle, about faith preceding miracles. He recounted story after story of people who had faith and prayed and were healed, or saw their crops grow, or miraculously food had come to those who had none. All because of FAITH. And so my question went unanswered. Until this morning.

I woke up at 6 o'clock. There was no reason for me to be awake, but I could not go back to sleep. My mind drifted back to this principle of faith and miracles and again, I thought, how am I going to teach this. Then the thought (I believe revelation) came to me that maybe there was a miracle, just not the one you wanted. I searched my heart for the miracles that have come since that day. . . like the miracle of eternal families; the miracle of love between Brian and I, that our marriage is intact and is strengthened because of this trial; or that of a family in our ward, who decided that they needed to be sealed as a family because of this experience.

The next thought I had was about a prayer. A prayer that was said with much faith, and that didn't turn out the way the prayer giver had wanted it to. It is the prayer that Christ offered in the Garden of Gethsemane "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt." (Matt. 26:39). Did you know that he prayed that same prayer three times? He pleaded with His father to help him, to take away this horrible pain. But Christ added something that I did not to His prayer, "not as I will, but as Thou wilt." And so I do it now. . . "as Thou wilt".

And then the Father answered His prayer the only way He could. And Heavenly Father answered mine the only way He could.

And ever so carefully, my shattered faith, is slowly, line upon line and precept on precept becoming whole again.