***WARNED***

A quote that I love says:

"When you feel like you're drowning in life, don't worry - your life guard walks on water"

 In the last few weeks, I have been diligently and not so patiently working on mission paperwork. It's been a process that is teaching me so much. About myself. About the Gospel. And about the Savior. It's been a process. And something that I've been warned over and over again is to be aware.

Things have been unusually rough. A car accident that took a relation of mine. Work taking back my Sundays off. Arguments. Hurt feelings. Stress. Drama. Heart ache. It all hit at once. And it was incredibly over whelming. What the crap, world. I'm busy. I have things to do. People to see. I didn't have time for my life to try to downward spiral!

"Dibe, we need to talk." A friend pulled me aside.
"Am I in trouble?"
"Yes." Came their terse reply. Now I was worried.
"Uh.. okay."
We sat down and I waited.
"You are in trouble. You're getting ready to turn in your mission paperwork."
I nodded.
"That means that Satan is going to work extremely to ruin you. not just your mission. But you."

I was intimidated. Satan knows me well. He knows my biggest fear. He knows my biggest weaknesses. and he exploits them well.
Blast, I'm in trouble. I thought to myself.

In the subsequent few days as one thing added to another, one pebble of trial exploded into a mountain of problems, the warning came again. And again. And again. Oh man... I'm REALLY hosed.

Things didn't get better. They got worse. Doctors were losing my paperwork. That was the reason for all this trial. Then tonight was institute.

And in the middle of the class I started thinking of the last three weeks of trials. Of things going wrong. Of seemingly nothing going right. But this time, I saw it different. After every time Satan jabbed me or tried to pull me under, the Savior pulled me above water again.

With the accident: even that first day, I knew how lucky I was. A was not the first ambulance on scene, which meant I never had to see Jaryd. The medic who ran the MCI is well respected, and one of my favorite medics, there are only a small handful medics in all of AMR that I would trust as much as him. If this situation had to happen, there is really nobody that I would have preferred to assess and care for him. I was lucky to know the responders. I am lucky to know that if he was work-able, Ian would have worked him. Would have tried. So grateful. I am so so grateful to know that forever is possible. Life doesn't end here.

Work taking away my Sundays: That was a huge blow. With all of this emotional and spiritual war that was coming my way, I NEED the Savior. I NEED the Sacrament. I learned how much I needed my home teachers, my visiting teachers. The random ward members who stop and talk to me about medicine, flat-soled shoes or Once Upon a Time. I needed to see the people I've known my whole life in the family ward - those weekly encounters and reminders of where I've been and how far I've come. I needed my ward, and my church families. I needed the soul-healing hugs that at least one person always seems to know that I need. (*** The purpose of a hug is to fix the soul. They put you back together when you're falling apart. They heal the hurts of the past, the fear of the future. So, people. No more awkward shoulder pats. No more one-armed uncomfortable contact. REAL hugs are tight, they squeeze you back together. ***) I needed random conversations of people's emergencies or medical issues throughout the week. Or times they heard a joke and thought that I would laugh.
And work took that away. To be fair, I had been warned that once they filled the other shift, that that would happen. But it couldn't have been worse timing. I had been praying that it wouldn't happen. That Sundays would stay mine for church. But it was taken, and worse, nobody really wanted to tell me. So I found out via our scheduling software. Ouch.

Several days later, the Savior worked His miracles and my coworker called me up and asked if we could do a trade of Saturdays and Sundays. Meaning, I'd work his Saturdays, and he would work my Sundays. I got to work and cried. What a blessing. He knew how much I needed, not just the Sacrament, but I needed and NEED every aspect of church. What a blessing!

Additionally, I have been uplifted significantly by those around me. The Lord knows. He knows that I'm not that person that says: "Hey. I need help." or "Hey, I'm struggling." He knows that I just don't tell people that I need prayers or hugs or extra love unless I am desperate for some relief, some show that I'm not alone in that particular trial.  From FB messages, to random *sober* guys calling me beautiful (okay, like my partner denoted, he was probably legitimately crazy, it was crazy week at work. But I really was feeling frumpy and under appreciated and under loved and really useless. It was nice to hear something kind, just to be kind. Constant text messages, phone calls, emails and the biggest surprise, the heart attack.

In my community (the LDS community) we do this thing called Heart Attacking. We cut out hearts, and attack you with love. (Ha ha. get it! Heart attack!) And I had just worked a 20 hour shift. I was worn out, and relatively disheartened. And I walked up to my apartment door to find a box of lucky charms, chocolates, cookies and very sweet notes from some unknown people. That was the biggest surprise and shock to me. I've never been on the receiving end of such a show of love and support. I'm the snarky one. So people don't associate me with someone who needs or even wants that kind of support.

Today was a big day. Satan has worked really hard to pull me down, but for every inch that Satan has pulled me down, the Savior has been there. He has met Satan step for step and pulled me the other direction. And when I've done all that I can do, I realized that I am not strong enough. But, I don't have to be Strong Enough. He is strong enough, for the both of us.


I'm not strong enough