On Trial

Have I mentioned, and you know that I have, that I don't understand why my life is so good? I mean, aside from being old and fat and creaky, my life is really good. Sure, I'd like to be rich and semi-famous, thinner, more gorgeous and with a mind like a steel trap, as I was when this picture was taken. Oh, yes, and with the best selling novel in the bag.

Other than those superficial things, there is very little I would change about my life. Ronald darling and I are getting older, but then, so are you! But we had a head start, so we are getting closer, in 30 or 40 years, to the end. But, I look at other people's trials that are so difficult, and wonder why my life does not seem to be a trial. I have friends with grave health problems, without work for months, dealing with deaths in their families, with wayward children and sin.

And I don't have major issues. I'm not going to confess my sins; I have them, but I'm working on them. We could be healthier, but we are working on that as well. So why don't we have major trials? Not that I want them, mind you. I just keep asking, "Why not me?"

Maybe the Lord won't give me huge problems because he knows I couldn't handle them - or because I could so I don't need them. Maybe I'm so good that I deserve a care-free life. Yeah, right! Or maybe I have trials, but I'm coping with them so well that I don't realize that they are there. Possibly the Lord is helping me carry them, so that I don't feel the weight.

So what is the purpose of trials? To strengthen us, to teach us and to encourage us to lean on the Lord. I found this poem that gives some insight. It's written from the perspective of a man, in the 19th century, trying to decide why he had been born black, when his race was a trial. It is from a play called I Am Jane, written about early members of the LDS church.

"I feel, Sister Jane, that ours is:

Not a curse but a gift t'us,

The best path we could seek

A place where God can lift us

We kneel; our knees is weak

And when one of us is kneelin',

We understand his fears.

We know what all us is feelin'

We cry each other's tears.

That's just what Jesus done

For all us human folk.

He agreed to come get born

To feel ev'ry pain and poke.

So's he could understand us,

What it is to be a slave.

So's he could get beneath us

And push us outa the grave

Would you rather be the massa

or the Roman with his whip?

Would you rather nail the Savior-

Put vinegar to his lip?

Or learn the lessons of sufferin'-

How we nothin' without grace.

Jesus, he give us a callin'

He gifted us our race."

The Lord has gifted us all our trials, even the ones that we don't recognize as trials. And they are blessings, even though they may not feel like blessings.

Mormon Monday

In the past week, I've seen two families lives turned upside down. Not only don't we know what will happen tomorrow, next week or next year, we don't know what the next moment holds. Good news, bad new, joy or tragedy. And when tragedy is there, what can we do? I've seen it hit three families this week. Two had sudden tragedies with no forewarning; the other saw the escalation of a debilitiating, fatal disease that is slowly destroying the mind and body of a family member.
What could I do? "Sorry for your loss?" "I hope the tests come back negative." "She'll be in a better place soon?" "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Obviously there are things that can help, things that we do on a routine basis. Watching the kids, making funeral potatoes, visiting the sick and afflicted. My desire is to take away the burdens, but burdens were what we signed on for when we came to the earth. Everyone will have these issues in one form or another. Everyone in the family may be healthy, but the family members may be wayward. Everyone may be faithful and hard working, but still remain single, or infertile, or deaf, disabled or unemployed.
So what can I do?

The only answer is prayer. While my actions may make things a little better for a little while, it doesn't take away their burden. So I pray. I pray for insight, that I will recognize the things I can do. I pray that they will be comforted, that the doctors will be wise, that they will recognize the hand of God in their lives. That they will be strong enough to carry the burden given and that the Lord will make the burden seem lighter. That the trials they go through will draw them closer to God, that they will cast their burdens upon him and allow him to sustain them. Sometimes it doesn't seem like enough, but prayer is the best, but not only, thing that we can do.