Out of the Darkness

I took this picture with my iphone camera; because of that, it's not the best quality, but it nevertheless captures a very special place where I go to ponder while Isabeau tirelessly chases after ducks. It's located at the end of our forest trail, and is rather symbolic for me as I take in its wide-open beauty after leaving the overhanging branches of the densely-packed forest.

This week I spent a few peaceful hours coming to some clarity in these beautiful surroundings, as I left behind three-or-more years of troubled fears and dark thoughts.

Last week was the anniversary of both my sealing (4/11) and my divorce (4/12). Without remembering the date, Brett contacted me on the 12th to see if I might like to "talk." His offer was very welcome to me, as I have had many unanswered questions surrounding Brett's leaving and the breakup of our marriage. So, on the anniversary of our divorce, Brett and I shared a dinner, and I learned his reasons for his actions; actions that resulted in tremendous sorrow and grief for me.

By the end of our few days of discussion, I needed a long walk, and an hour or so sitting beside the pond to think things through. Although I had learned things from Brett that distressed and hurt me, finally coming to know the truth about who he was and who he has become provided a great sense of freedom for me. I had previously felt such a sense of mission and responsibility to do whatever was within my power to rescue Brett, and remind him of the sacred nature of the covenants he had made with God, that I had not allowed myself to enjoy or embrace the blessings that had come into my own life. How could I enjoy my beautiful home, for example, when Brett was homeless?

I often thought about Lot's wife, who most certainly had turned back to see what was happening to her remaining children, or Noah's wife, who, while cognizant of the fact that God had saved her, was also very aware of those outside of the ark (including family members) who were suffering despair and destruction. I really am that kind of person! When I feel warm in my bed, I think of those who are sleeping in the streets, without blanket or shelter. It is difficult for me to "have" when others have not; and when it came to thinking of this in relationship to Brett, it was particularly difficult for me.

Brett, for his part, has been declaring that he is "happier than ever," despite his setbacks. He is angry at God, and has "found peace" outside of the teachings of the Church. His life is full of new friends, new experiences, and new ideals.

As I walked through the forest, I found a new lightness in my heart that seemed surprising in light of the conversations that Brett and I had had. It took me a moment to identify the reason for that lightness, and then I discovered that . . . I felt free.

I know that I have truly and honestly done all that I can possibly do, have said all that could possibly be said, and that Brett does not want to know or hear any of it. Brett has freely made his choices time and again, and I have finally come to see and know that he makes those choices with deliberation. His choices have impacted me, have hurt me, and have set certain things in motion that I will live with for the rest of my life. In gratitude for what we have shared together that was sacred, in obedience to what I have considered my covenant, and out of love for the man who once brought such joy to my life, I have been unable to let go of any sense of responsibility - both for how I may have contributed to the current state of things, and also for the possibility of helping and saving Brett . . . until now.

I am so grateful for the tender mercies that the Lord has showered upon me, including this process of learning. I understand that I could not have rushed things along; I needed every moment and every encounter and every prayer to reach this point. I needed to see time and again that Brett was not experiencing some sort of temporary insanity, and was not behaving out of some sense of desperate "giving up," but that he was making choices for a life that he truly wants. I needed to know that I had tried everything, and given every chance. I now know that I have.

I think of hours spent lying on the green grassy meadow of our "valley" home, watching the eagles and hawks circle overhead, and pouring out prayers of longing and prayers of gratitude to the Lord. My tears watered the earth as I mowed my last night at the house, and blessed and thanked the land for its generous bounty, not only in its obvious verdant growth, but also in the solace it had given me through the long and lonely days. I had learned how to be a "pioneer woman" of strength, taking care of my own land and standing up to the frightful dark hours with coyotes howling in the night. This was an essential lesson for me.

I've learned that forgiveness is a gift from God, and one of the most precious gifts that He can bestow upon us as His children. I have felt nothing but forgiveness for Brett throughout this whole ordeal, and have thanked God for it. I've learned more deeply how extremely precious temple covenants are, and how eternally essential marriage is. I've learned how to completely surrender all expectations of what I have thought my life should be, and to give all of it up to God. I have learned how to wait, patiently, and how to not run away from pain and suffering. I have even learned that there is beauty in suffering, as my heart has turned to the Savior, and contemplated His suffering borne for us out of love.

I have tried to do these things gracefully, without rancor or bitterness. I think I have largely succeeded in this hope, but I give all credit to the grace of the Atonement of Christ in being able to do so. I have been aware of God every moment and have known that He has gently held me throughout this ordeal. While I may have wished he would save me from the pain, or restore the marriage that had been lost, I have felt His love for me, and have grown to know much better what it means to be a daughter of God.

And, so, there is a new hope, and a new lightness that I thought might never come. It did not come for my searching for it, or for my feeling that somehow I "deserved it." It came in a natural, God-given way, such as what I picture happens to those to whom the Lord says "Well done thou good and faithful servant." That kind of declaration doesn't come when we demand it, or even when we feel we most deserve it. It comes at the right time, at the completion of the mission for which the Lord has called us. For me, it came at the moment I fully realized that I have done all that I can do.

As the new leaves begin to unfurl themselves in the sheltered forest corridors, even as the tiniest fingers of sunlight finally find their hidden corners, so the light of God's hope is reaching into the corners of my heart. . . . And on a bright, sunny day, as pictured here, my heart opened fully as does the heart of a flower. Like the flower, I am tender, and bruise easily, but like the flower, I hope to bring beauty to my surroundings, and to remind others of God's grace.