Thank you for this trial.

 1 Thessalonians  8:18 "In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you." So everything must mean every thing, even my least favorite things-trials.

I've been thinking a lot about this "thankful in your trials" concept.  It's hard.  During a trial, something that is happening different than the way I want it to, my natural response is to cry out, "I'm gonna die!"  I'm trying a new approach:  "Thank you for this trial and the opportunity to..."  and guess what?  I'm slowly learning.  My faith used to focus on trusting in God's love and power, which is good.  I want to keep that but also trust in God's ability to use trial to make me into someone better than I was.  So now my target response isn't just "get me out of this, pronto!"  (well the thought still pushes itself forward from the back of my mind,)  but "What Christlike characteristics can I develop and how is this difficult situation a blessing?"  I guess I'm trying to not just have faith in God
s ability to bless me with good things, but faith in his ability to use trial to bless me as well.

As I reflect on times of trial I realize that one of its greatest benefits is the laser focus on the eternal that happens almost immediately.  My prayers become focused, sincere, pleading and frequent.  I put all aspects of life in order.  My slacking "I'll do that someday" intentions become diligent practices of today.  I immerse myself in the scriptures, searching for counsel and comfort. I reach out to others with a level of compassion that can only come from a heart that has felt pain.  I recommit my life to God the way I always want to, but sometimes neglect to. When I'm facing trials I don't like my life better, but I like myself better. 

 In retrospect some of my greatest discoveries about life and God came when life took a turn for which I would not have asked.  Ten years ago when my young son had surgery to repair his incomplete palate, he woke up from anesthesia very unhappy.  He was in pain, and nauseated and in a strange place.  People kept  coming into the room and couldn't always promise "No stick" with a needle.  I held him and rocked him and tried to comfort him. He cried, "Mom, take me home!"  I would have done anything for that child, but I knew that going home was not the best course for him at that time.  Through my tears I answered,  "No. We need to stay here where the doctors can help you."  That experience has come to define trial for me.  I am not having fun.  I ask God to get me out and make it stop and sometimes he says, "No, leaving this trial would not be the best thing for you."  But he says it with love, and compassion, and complete awareness of my hurting."

Well, this surgery experience extended and stretched me and taught me more.  A week after the original surgery the repair failed and we were in the emergency room facing an emergency repair repair.  The hospital was full so Gabe recovered in a room sometimes used  for storing extra equipment.  We stayed all night in the small room with another child and a mom who liked to sleep with the television on.  Gabe recovered enough to go home only to find ourselves back in the hospital for the 3rd monday in a row as he had spiked a fever.  Gabe was the one suffering, but my mental and spiritual wellness was slipping as my bright picture of the future and , sadly, my hope were fading fast.  Trying to hang onto my tested faith I looked for the positives...looking, looking and then I began to see them.  A message therapy student came by as a volunteer giving free massages.  The mother of the boy in the next bed was very kind.  The cheerful nurse decided that infection and respiratory (Gabe's roommate) patients should not be together so we were given our own room. A resident sat in the hall playing beautiful healing jazz on his alto sax.   As all those lovely gifts were being delivered I read in the Book of Mormon about the people that asked to be free from bondage.  The Lord did not grant them freedom yet, but he did make their burdens light.  I knew God knew our situation and did not remove the trial, but he blessed us in little ways to lighten our burdens and let us feel His love and power and restore my hope.

I've had other sweet experiences born in trying times.  I actually had 2 sons that had to delay their missionary experience because of surgery.  We call this phenomenon the "Mom Training Center" or the "MomTC."  on the second go 'round we were living in West Virginia in a neighborhood that we fondly refer to as the "witness protection program."  We were in the hills, in the forest, on a dirt road surrounded by wild and wonderful (heavy on the wild.) My sweet 19 yr. old son had already spent a funtastic year at college and planned on being on his church mission by then.  Instead he was at home with his Mom.  I tried to show him a big time by taking him shopping and giving him chores. In turn, he tried to not be miserable.  The surgery broke up his monotony a bit, but he was banned from sports...not funny.

 Seven days post-op my son was allowed to do some walking.  He needed a chaperone to keep him from  breaking  into a run and never coming back.  I offered to walk with him around the "block."  Did I mention that there were wild turkeys and bears in the neighborhood?  There was also a horrendous hill.  Previously, I had walked for a while and then turned around and returned along the same route avoiding the challenge available on the last leg of the circle.  Stir-crazy boy wanted to take the long, hard route.  He brought his football just in case.  We took it slow, for the convalescent, of course.  As I started up the incline my heart started to beat at an unhealthy rate and I couldn't breathe.  I suggested a little rest.  He reassured me, "You can do it mom."  He moved ahead of me and tossed me the football.  I tossed it back.  He jogged a little ahead, I yelled at him for running, and he threw the football to me again.  He joked a bit and pushed my buttons and tossed the football until I made it up the hill, alive and proud of both of us. And then he got better and went on a mission, and came back a beautiful man of God and then went back to his marvelous life at college. No one would have chosen that situation at that time, but I have a fond memory of love and encouragement and a pretty great season with my child. Thanks, good son, and thanks to God for the beautiful time of trial.