Salt Leaven and Light

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One never forgets the emotions one feels when discovering that their relationships are not what they seem. When that moment came for me, I knew my life would never be the same. I honestly thought it would be better.

After hearing such soul-shattering news, and feeling the walls around me begin to crumble, I allowed only a single, solitary tear to roll down my cheek before saying aloud, “We can get through this together, and be stronger as a couple for having gone through it.”

In the seemingly slow-motion moments that followed, I envisioned us, as husband and wife, sharing our soon-to-be success story in front of large groups of people, inspiring them in the midst of their relationship challenges, and filling them with hope.

Sadly, some stories don’t end the way we think they ought to, for reasons we may never fully understand. Nevertheless, life has a way of carrying on and, with it, intermingled with the good times, comes a sea of challenges.

During the tumultuous years that followed, I struggled with knowing how to navigate the stormy waters that surrounded me and my children. No one seemed to have the anwers I sought, so I prayed and read books. I attended seminars and visited with experts. But most importantly, I communicated with my children.

We spoke regularly of grief and sadness, loss and despair, shame and isolation, anger and fear, but not without also speaking of hope and faith, peace and forgiveness, light and love, courage and strength, and, most importantly, of a loving Heavenly Father and Savior, Jesus Christ, who would always be there for them in their time of need.

And in the moments when we couldn’t speak, we simply held each other and cried.

Children are not as resilient as others often say they are. Children need help processing their emotions. They need to know that they’re not alone. They need someone they can talk to. They need continuous love, encouragement, and support from individuals they can trust.

Recently, my children and I engaged in yet another informal and spontaneous session of working through some painful emotions that were being felt by all.

We each spent time sharing; we each spent time listening.

The end of our conversation was telling, with the consensus being that life is often hard, that there are certain factors that are out of our control, but that personal growth, joy, and blessings can result from enduring great hardship.

These conversations with my children over the years, more than anything else, perfectly exemplify my sincere and oft-repeated phrase, “We can get through this together, and be stronger for having gone through it.”

Thus fulfilling the scriptural promise of “beauty for ashes” (Isaiah 61:3).

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‘Life is difficult. This is a great truth, one of the greatest truths.’ It is a great truth because once we truly see this truth, we transcend it. Once we truly know that life is difficult—once we truly understand and accept it—then life is no longer difficult. Because once it is accepted, the fact that life is difficult no longer matters. Most do not fully see this truth that life is difficult. Instead they moan more or less incessantly, noisily or subtly, about the enormity of their problems, their burdens, and their difficulties as if life were generally easy, as if life should be easy. They voice their belief, noisily or subtly, that their difficulties represent a unique kind of affliction that should not be and that has somehow been especially visited upon them, or else upon their families, their tribe, their class, their nation, their race or even their species, and not upon others. I know about this moaning because I have done my share. ~M. Scott Peck, American psychiatrist and author

He will “give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness,” (Isaiah 61:3)

ART CREDIT

The Soul of the Rose

by John William Waterhouse