I wrote this blog post 7 years ago. At the end of this year, which has been exhausting for many of us and tragic for some, I thought it might be worth sharing again.
Years ago my husband worked at a community mental health clinic. December was an extremely busy month for new clients. His coworkers told him that every year between Thanksgiving and mid-January the clinic was at it’s very busiest. Christmas is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year, but for many people the expectation of peace, joy and love drives home the reality of just how hard life actually is. It seems like the fact that it’s Christmas should make everything ok, but it doesn’t. People get sick during the holidays; people die. Families argue; people feel betrayed. Tragedies occur, and even when they don’t, life is hard. People feel anxious, inadequate, weary, and alone.
For our family, Christmas is about the promise of Christ’s birth—a promise of better things to come: eternal life, happiness, peace, and a release from sin and weakness. This means Christmas can be a time of gratitude, a little island of solace amidst the turbulence of the world. A time to reflect on blessings received and prayers answered.
But perhaps, like many people whose lives appear just about perfect on the outside, you have a hidden sorrow. Perhaps you’ve been praying for something for so long that you’re beginning to wonder if this prayer will ever be granted. You’re beginning to realize, with no small amount of apprehension, that this blessing you desperately want might not be one you receive. At least not in this life. And this life lasts for a pretty long time.
When that’s the case, it can be hard to feel joyful, even during the Christmas season. When someone you love is sick, or you’re out of work, or your life is filled with quiet desperation for one reason or another, it can be hard to feel full of faith. It can be hard, when our prayers are not being answered the way we want, not to think that perhaps they won’t be answered at all.
***
Ten years ago (now 17 years ago) my husband and I had twins boys, born seven weeks premature. They were monoamniotic twins, meaning they shared an amniotic sac, which made the pregnancy high-risk and required me to spend seven weeks in the hospital before delivery. They were born early, so they both spent time in the NICU. Once we finally brought the boys home we were grateful and so relieved. Our older son was barely two and we knew it would be a difficult couple of years, but we felt incredibly blessed to have three healthy children.
After a few weeks, when both grandmas had come to help for a while and then gone back home, the twins started getting fussy. They always seemed hungry but didn’t want to eat, and soon they were crying for hours each day. Our doctor told us it was colic and it would get better eventually, but as the weeks passed the boys went from fussy to inconsolable. If they were awake they were crying. Trying to feed them was a nightmare – I’d assumed I could snuggle both boys while nursing them at the same time, but they wouldn’t nurse and instead I ended up bottle feeding one while the other laid on the couch next to me screaming, then feeding the next while the first one screamed. My two year old, tired of having to amuse himself while I tried to calm the babies, started asking when we could give them back.
I remember one day sitting on the couch in the living room of our small apartment when the twins were just a few months old. Both babies were screaming and nothing I tried seemed to help. It was probably only mid-morning, but if felt like it had already been light years since breakfast. I had no idea how I would make it until 8 o’clock that night, when my husband would be back from graduate school.
Soon my two-year old started crying because I wasn’t playing with him, and it wasn’t long before I was crying too. I’m well aware that my experience wasn’t unique – countless parents have experienced this exact same moment – but at the time I felt overwhelmed, worried, and so very inadequate. I was desperate for heavenly aid.
And so I prayed. I knew God could hear me, and I knew He loved me. I knew that taking care of His children was the most worthwhile thing I could be doing with my time, and I knew He would want to help me. And so I prayed that the babies would fall asleep so I’d be able to read to my older son. I told my Father in Heaven I just needed an hour of peace. I pleaded for an hour of peace, and I had faith that God could give me what I asked for.
The babies didn’t fall asleep. In fact, they didn’t even stop crying. And I didn’t feel comforted or strengthened or less overwhelmed. I eventually calmed my two-year-old by putting on yet another Disney movie, and I made it through the rest of the day walking our tiny apartment with a baby in each arm. The babies must have napped at some point—I don’t really remember the details of that particular day—but I do remember the feeling I had when I realized that God wasn’t going to give me the help I prayed for.
Compared to most people in the history of this world my life was still pretty amazing. We weren’t facing the awful trials and tragedies that so many people experience. Looking back seventeen years later, that day certainly wasn’t one of the hardest I’ve experienced. But at the time, with months of crying babies and hardly any sleep looming ahead of me, I wondered how I’d make it if God wouldn’t even answer the simplest of prayers.
A few days after this experience I got a call from a woman in my congregation at church. She asked how I was doing and if I needed any help. I wanted to shout “Yes! Please come help me!” but I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t even take care of my own children that instead I told her things were going just fine.
She replied by saying she was on her way over. When she got to the door and found both babies screaming she told me to take my 2 year old and leave. She all but pushed us out the back door, telling me she’d be just fine with the twins. Jackson and I went to the park, where I pushed him on the swings and he laughed and laughed and I remembered why I’d wanted more children.
My friend came back the next week, and the next. She organized other women from church to come and help as well for a couple of months, but even after I adamantly told her I really was ok (a new pediatrician had finally diagnosed the twins with reflux and medication was starting to help) she continued to come to my apartment one morning a week. She kept coming for an entire year. She had five children of her own and was juggling an extremely demanding church assignment. Ten years later I still cry when I think of what she did for me.
I knew from the beginning that this woman was a blessing in my life, and that my Heavenly Father was helping me through her. What I never quite realized until a few weeks ago was this: When I prayed for the babies to just fall asleep, God did not answer my prayer the way I wanted. But a few days later, He gave me the answer I needed. He touched the heart of an earthly angel, telling her to ignore what I said and listen to what I needed. Even though His answer was less immediate, it was infinitely more lasting.
In my life, some prayers have been answered immediately. Others have been answered in ways I didn’t expect, and still others have been answered with a feeling of peace and the knowledge that things will be ok even if they don’t turn out the way I’d like. But there have also been times I have prayed in faith and haven’t received any answer at all, not an idea of what I should do or even a whisper of comfort.
When you’ve been praying the same prayer that goes unanswered for years and years, it can be hard to feel full of faith. In those moments, belief becomes a choice. In those moments, I choose to believe that—just like on that difficult morning filled with crying babies—even though God isn’t giving me the answer I’ve asked for, He will eventually give me the answer I need.
That sounds like the end of the story, right? Well, not quite. I’m scared that the answer I “need” may simply be the opportunity to continue struggling through, and that my hidden sorrow isn’t going to go away any time soon. Sometimes it’s hard to be patient, and it’s hard not to question why. C.S. Lewis put it well: “We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.” But I find that there is power in choosing to believe, even when the belief doesn’t change the situation. Perhaps that’s because it changes me.
And perhaps as you’ve read my story some of you are thinking back on times when you prayed for help, but no help came. I am sorry for that. I don’t know why God sent someone to help me when my twins were babies while so many moms struggle alone. I don’t know why He answered that prayer and He hasn’t answered others, at least not in a way I’ve been able to recognize. Honestly, there are so many things I don’t know. But I believe that He knows, and that is enough. I choose to believe.
***
Seven years on from the original writing of this post, and 17 years since those twins were babies, I’ve experienced new challenges that have stretched me in ways I couldn’t have imagined, as all of us do. But I’m beginning to see the ways I have changed as a result. Every day, I still choose to believe.
“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.” – C.S. Lewis
“Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don’t come until heaven; but for those who embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ, they come.” – Elder Jeffrey R. Holland
I hope you are having a joyful holiday season. And if your joy is tempered with sorrow this year, I hope you can hold on and believe in better things to come.
Love,
Autumn
Linda Gillian says
Thank you so much for sharing your story. God is good and HE does give us what we need when we need it. Sometimes we just need to be reminded of that truth. Thank you.
autumn says
Thanks Linda! Some of us need to be reminded more than others 🙂
BRITTANY PERKINS says
That is beautiful, Thank you. A few tears shed…
autumn says
Thanks, Brit. I never know who’s actually reading my blog posts, so it’s nice to know you are!
Shelby Walther says
I had an experience last week that taught me something. One of the most beautiful feelings is knowing that I could be the instrument in God’s hands to bring about an answer to someone else’s prayer. I’ve had several times over the years when through someone’s service I was able to be (very needfully) aware of God’s love for me. And I’m so very grateful that Heavenly Father trusted me enough to do a certain something for a certain someone. It turned out that what was a very simple thing for me was an answer to a prayer during her time of trial. Thank you for your story! Merry Christmas!
autumn says
It’s nice to be on the other side of the experience, isn’t it? Love you!
Kathy says
I love you even when you make me cry…you have it right sweetie, keep on keepin on.
autumn says
Love you too, Mom. Did you know that you’re the number 1 commenter on my blog? I think you even beat out Denise lately 🙂
emanuela says
The other day my daughter gave birth to a premature baby, your story moved me deeply. Thanks for sharing with me your sweet thoughts.
autumn says
Emanuela, thanks for commenting. I hope your grand baby is doing well and you’ve been able to spend some time with him or her!
Laura Leseberg says
I’m a grandma, and my “baby” is 28, but I needed to hear this tonight. One of the great things about being older is that you can look back on your life and see where the answers came, sometimes when I wasn’t even looking.
It does take a lot of faith. Not everyone is spared death or sickness, even when we are sure it would be best for everyone.
We are asked to take that leap of faith into the dark, knowing that we will be given wings to fly, or a soft place to land.
BTW, at almost 59 years old, I was just called to be Girls Camp Director for our ward. At first, I told the Bishop absolutely not — I had this, that, and a million reasons NOT to take the call. But, in the end, I was prompted to take that step into the darkness. Even when snickers and giggles went through the congregation when the calling was announced. 🙂
It’s a legacy of faith I want my children and grandchildren to swee.
autumn says
Laura, I think you’ll be a perfect girls camp director! Passing on a legacy of faith is exactly what the Young Women’s program is about, and it sounds like the girls will be lucky to have you there with them. That said, I’d be a little terrified of that calling myself – good luck!
Shannon says
Beautiful message. I cried through the whole thing. I’m a mother of a 4x brain cancer survivor and I’m at a crossroads on what treatment to do this time and I struggle over what to ask God to help me with these decisions. Thank you for this.
autumn says
Shannon, I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. I truly believe God is watching over us, even at times when it’s hard to feel Him there. I’ll be praying for you and your family.
Thank you for sharing.
Autumn
Kathy says
Shannon,
Having a child with cancer is heart wrenching, never worry about asking God to help you make sound decisions and to give you a feeling of peace when you have to make hard ones. In St John 14:27 the Savior promised us this: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth, giveth I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” My thoughts and prayers are with you.
JanaMorton says
Beautifully written Autumn. I loved reading your message. Merry Christmas my friend!
autumn says
Thanks, Jana! I love to see familiar “faces” in the comments here 🙂 I hope your holidays have gone well!
Iris says
God bless you for this. I was so in need of some inspiration and this is the kickoff of a new year with new feelings and resolutions. It’s been a tough year for my family and I just lost the love of my life my babycat. I know that he appeared in our lives to help us through the tough times but I never expected him to leave so soon. Missing you Chai. I think I know what needs to be done this new year. God give me the strength I need.
Happy new year Autumn and May God continue to bless you and your family.
autumn says
Thank you so much, Iris! I’m sorry for your loss, but I’m glad it sounds like you have some clarity for the new year. Happy new year to you, too!
Jules says
Thank you for sharing your story. I appreciate the reminder that just because someone says they are fine it doesn’t mean they really are. We should follow that intuition that had your helper show up on the door step anyway. And when someone asks if we are ok, we should say no if not! We need to allow God’s plan to unfold not block it by denying what we need when someone offers. Let their help be a blessing to us both. Best wishes for you and your family in 2014.
Sammi says
I’m sorry for commenting on a post that is over a week old, but I just wanted to thank you for these words. About three months ago, I was diagnosed with partial stomach paralysis that has completely flipped my world upside down. I’ve had symptoms my entire life, but was finally beginning to get comfortable with things (I was finishing college, dating a wonderful man, and working at a job I loved) when things began to get bad. As my symptoms worsened, my life fell apart and I had to recreate myself… I could no longer finish my degree, work the job I wanted, and lost all my money in medical expenses and rent. People I thought supported me began to disappear and I was left with very little. The holidays were very rough this year because of it, and the strain it has put on my relationship with my family. I stumbled across your blog on Pinterest, and I don’t think it was an accident by any means. Thanks for the boost to keep pushing forwards. Sometimes you just need a reminder that God has a plan and the suffering isn’t all for naught. Hope you have a wonderful 2014!
autumn says
Sammi – thank you so much for your comment! I’m so sorry life has been so tough for you lately. It’s terrible to find you don’t have the support of the people you thought you could count on. I hope things start looking up for you soon and I’ve been keeping you in my prayers.
Michele says
Thank you for you useful and inspiring blog. Your enthusiasm is contagious. Your faith is an inspiration. I am a Gramma and over 70, and I miss my grands this year but am taking all the safety precautions possible because I want to travel next year to see them again. I related to your young mother under stress memories. What a fine lady to get you the help she did. Thank you again for your patternsc and recipes!!
Joanna says
Beautiful reminder…..Merry Christmas!
Kristie says
Thank you for the reminder! I read this once, and can’t wait to re-read this again and again. Thank you so much!
Chris says
Thank you for your inspirational words. I cried when I was reading your story. Your faith is amazing and you’re right we often wonder why God answers some and not others. Believing is the key.
Merry Christmas and may God always bless you and your family. I do love your blog and follow it everyday.
Teresa Y Pulleyn says
Autumn, thanks for your story. I feel like you’ve captured the holiday struggles accurately. Christmas Greetings from Brigham City.