Something Extraordinary

There is a book I love, called "Quiet", It turned on some unexpected lights, for me personally, and embodies much of the heart of my sweet Mikayla. She desires to "suck out all the marrow of life" but, that often entails immersion into extroverted environments. On her own terms, for allotted periods of time, she has been able to adapt successfully to those conditions throughout her entire life, but not without discomfort and even an underlying sense of peculiarity. With the onset of young adulthood has come the eagerly awaited opportunity of college and the unexpected, personal pull, for inclusion in full time missionary service, but living in the socially concentrated climate of higher education and then the more constantly connected structure of the mission field have presented some hurdles that have proved formidable, for the present and so our girl has come home from her mission, for at least 6 months, to focus on balancing all of the physiological and psychological makeup that is the miracle of each of us, and that microscopic focus is stirring me to contemplate and reevaluate my own sense of balance and the frailties that help us each stay tethered to the safety of divine humility. As hard as it is to watch my children struggle, as hard as it is to have life continually altering, out of my control...that binding is a gift.

Mikayla's drive to learn, to serve, to appreciate and contribute to the diversity of people, consistently compels her to blaze her own trails through demonstratively dominated territory, which can be intimidating, even for those of us who are less reserved, and at times overwhelming for her. There is a frustration in balancing what she wants to do, and what she is in fact quite good at doing, with what her body will allow her to do. It is a struggle that we all deal with to some degree--that age old human wrestle between body and spirit--and which we are realizing many people have dealt with or are currently maneuvering through, to the similar degree that our girl is. Even so, coming face to face with limitations is not pleasant and rarely enthusiastically embraced. Circumnavigation is always my initial desire--it's a common, infantile wish, one I'm sure is shared by almost every other person who has ever faced adversity, but it is not the plan--a plan I have absolute conviction that I agreed with and for which my Mikayla most probably celebrated with joy. So, here we are, a family of 8, each trying to do the best we can with the gifts and fragility that we've been equipped with, clumsily attempting to help each other and learn from others. The adversary is cunning, relentless and discouraging. It is easy, ofttimes, to fall victim to his merciless plundering, but though not one of us, linked together with sealing bonds and trying to uphold the Bloomers name, is without deficiencies from his thieving or scars from the imperfections that are mortality, I feel, in quiet times of pondering, that my Heavenly Father is pleased with each of us--our striving and our desiring, as blundering and oafish as they may sometimes be, and is ever patient with my persistent pleadings for his stable anchor in our storm tossed seas of life. He is watching over us, guiding us, lighting our path, and is completely invested in our past, present and future.

A recent experience in the the temple has etched a searing and abiding picture in my mind. Only because of the vulnerable circumstances of my heart was I probably able to extract the lesson that I did, but it has continued to be a curiously comforting force. I had received a phone call from Mikayla's mission president precisely at the time that I should have been traveling to the temple to witness a family sealing. We had been on the phone with him quite a bit over the past two days and the conversation was too important to postpone or condense. By the time we got on the road, we knew we'd be late, but we weren't able to contact anyone to let them know we wouldn't be able to make it, so we went with the intention of at least being there to be a support to the young family as they came out of the sealing. Fred and I got to the temple 10 minutes after the sealing session had started, but in the brief interim between the couple being sealed and the children being brought in, so the temple workers kindly whisked us in ahead of the children, without too much distraction to the calm quiet that was already permeating the room. The atmosphere was calm and quiet, but my heart and mind were not, and into that environment the two young children were escorted. The oldest was awed and reverent, the youngest was frustrated and unruly. A good friend of the couple tried soothing and encouraging the young boy, but the more everyone tried to help the more the little boy fought until he was crying and writhing. It did not look like he was going to regain his composure and so the sealer decided just to proceed with the sealing. The parents did not appear visibly agitated but I am sure it was not the sweet experience that they had envisioned, and it definitely wasn't a pleasant occasion for the young son. It was the first family sealing that I had ever witnessed and it didn't match the ideal stories I had heard, but with my heavy heart, watching the family firmly holding on to the hand of the distressed child, who was fighting to free himself from the restraint, I witnessed some powerful imagery. I saw myself and all of us. The circumstances of this life are not always ideal, sometimes because we can't control all of the factors, sometimes because the spiritual environment is foreign and sometimes because we fight the very things that will save us but which we feel are restricting us because we do not understand what is happening or the end result. That day in the temple a young family was just as tightly sealed as they would have been in more optimally emotional surroundings and that was something vital I needed to remember.

Years ago Elder Wirthlin gave a talk  that grounds me in times of adversity--a state of mind which sometimes feels like ALWAYS. =) One thought he shared, especially gives me strength. and comfort and hope.

"Be of good cheer. The Man of Galilee, the Creator, the Son of the Living God will not forget nor forsake those whose hearts are drawn to Him. I testify that the Man who suffered for mankind, who committed His life to healing the sick and comforting the disconsolate, is mindful of your sufferings, doubts, and heartaches.

“Then,” the world would ask, “why does He sleep when the tempest rages all around me? Why does He not still this storm, or why would He let me suffer?”
Your answer may be found in considering a butterfly. Wrapped tightly in its cocoon, the developing chrysalis must struggle with all its might to break its confinement. The butterfly might think, Why must I suffer so? Why cannot I simply, in the twinkling of an eye, become a butterfly?

"Such thoughts would be contrary to the Creator’s design. The struggle to break out of the cocoon develops the butterfly so it can fly. Without that adversity, the butterfly would never have the strength to achieve its destiny. It would never develop the strength to become something extraordinary."(Finding a Safe Harbor)