Almost an entire year ago, my best friend left me to serve
the Lord in Ecuador. It was a rough few months for me, both the time leading up
to his departure date and many days after. Ethan had been there for me every single
day of the past three years, and had been in my life almost as frequently for
two before that. I had forgotten how to live without him.
I did a lot to prepare myself for him leaving. My initial
instinct was to emotionally remove myself from him – break up maybe? In fact,
we even talked about this, decided to make it a matter of prayer and fasting,
and both got the same answer: This was going to be hard, but we weren’t
supposed to break up. I knew our answer was what the Lord wanted from us, but I
also knew that meant that it was going to be a rough two years for me – two
years that I knew were going to be an ongoing quest for patience and happiness.
Everyone will give you their opinion when you send a
missionary out: Break up, stay together, wait for him, date around. Everyone
has their own ideas, but no one tells you how to be happy or how to find
patience.
I remember the first time I really felt like I had found
happiness and was moving on and living life without him. This is not to say
that I didn’t feel happiness before this --
those moments were frequent – but there is a deep and resounding sense
of contentment and peace that I had been lacking, a joy in one’s life that I
hadn’t refound yet.
It was a January afternoon (an entire 3 months after he had
left) and I remember walking home, looking at the snow covered Earth, the
students passing me on both sides and feeling overwhelming love and gratitude
for the people around me, the beautiful Earth, and the opportunity to attend
such a wonderful university. It was then that I knew that happiness was found
in the little things.
In April’s general conference, Elder David A. Bednar shared
a message of happiness and endurance. A single line stood out to me then, and
again tonight when I found it on my twitter feed.
“Sometimes we may mistakenly believe that happiness is the
absence of a load.”
How right is he? If that were the case, none of us would
ever feel happiness. There is always some load to be carried, stress to be
felt, and tears to cry. I’m glad I
figured this out early on in Ethan’s mission because it has completely changed
the months that have followed this epiphany.
Life continued and I was consistently happy, however I was
also consistently anxious. My heart ached for the moment when the rest of our
story would unfold, whichever way it went.
I soon became obsessed with understanding the concept of
patience. I searched the scriptures and every other church document I own to
help me understand. The best definition I found is in Preach My Gospel (Ironic,
eh?)
“Patience is the capacity to endure delay, trouble,
opposition, or suffering without becoming angry, frustrated, or anxious.”
That quote hit me like a ton of bricks. I had felt all of
those things and some of them constantly. I knew I didn’t want life to be like
that for the next two years – the Lord didn’t want me to live that way and I
didn’t want to regret this time of my life.
It was soon after I began thinking about all of this that I
realized that I needed to do two things to survive this trial (and really, any
others that follow.) I needed to find a purpose for this trial and a purpose in
this trial.
I quickly began brainstorming reasons for this trial. 1)It’s
simply circumstancial. Ethan needs to fulfill his priesthood responsibility of
preaching the gospel and changing other’s lives. 2) I needed time to figure
myself out. 3) This is a huge learning/growing experience for the both of us.
I finally decided that it is a pretty good mixture of all of
these things.
Finding purpose in the trial was the harder part of the equation.
Initially, I wanted to join this wonderful wave of missionaries going forth
into the world but through lots of prayer accepted the fact that Heavenly
Father had other plans for me. I then tried to form various other plans, but
nothing ended up working out. Even though it sounds ridiculous now, I felt I
was achieving nothing being at school.
There were months of months of prayer involved, but I now know that
there is a purpose for me being here at BYU, whether it be to serve in my ward,
learn from my roommates, or gain an education (there’s an idea).
And suddenly, after finding purpose, I found patience and
peace. I now understand that patience is accepting my Heavenly Father’s timing
and trusting that he will fulfill his promises and guide my life in the
direction that He would have it go.
I’ve found gratitude is the key to both happiness and
patience. I miss Ethan more than anything, but I’m grateful for every day, I’m
grateful for the things I’ve learned, the people I’ve met, and most importantly,
I’m grateful for the priceless growth I’ve experienced since he’s left. I’m a
firm believer that “sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven,” and that
sometimes sacrifices are really investments. (Gordon B. Hinckley said something
similar.)
I’m grateful that I know that happiness is not the absence
of struggle and patience is not simply waiting for something to happen. I know
I’ll face harder things in the future and that understanding will be vital.
I’m grateful for my Savior, who has more than once been my
only friend and counselor through this. I have found so much strength in His
atonement and have grown closer to him during this trial.
And most importantly, I’m grateful life is hard. I’m
grateful I can grow and learn, and I’m grateful I have someone to miss as much
as I do.
