And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.

This weekend, I really feel like I've been dragged through hell. There's really no other way to put it. Friday evening I got word that a girl I grew up with and her family had been victims to a sickening act of violence. I don't think I've ever been so sad in my entire life as I have been these past three days; I don't think my heart has ever hurt so deeply. Having known and loved these people, and being one that feels far too deeply for her own good, I have just felt so heavy. But even with this sickness of sadness, I'm not sure I've ever been so aware of how much Heavenly Father knows about me either.

I've always known that he's been there for me and cares about and loves what I care about and love, but He has placed so many specific things in my little life in this big world to help me recognize that He knows my broken heart.

I went to the temple on Saturday and, knowing my love for Scotland, my Heavenly Father placed me near a missionary from Scotland that was there with his companion helping a couple that they had led to the church go to the temple for the first time to do baptisms.

And in that same place in the temple, He prompted me to talk to my friend next to me because He knew my heart was drifting into sadness as I was praying and reading the scriptures quietly.

Later that day, as I was playing my usual pickup game of ultimate frisbee, there were so many dogs and children at the park--two of my very favorite things, and two things that Heavenly Father knows are my favorite.

He prompted me to call two of my friends that I had grown up with alongside our friend who had been the surviving victim of this tragedy, and on Sunday prompted me to call my wonderful grandmother.

I have never been one for crying in public, or in front of people at all for that matter (besides my mom), but I kind of lost it during the sacrament hymn on Sunday. And while I usually try to sing sacrament hymns in my head and pray during the sacrament, Heavenly Father instead placed a song that isn't a hymn in my head because He knows the hope and peace it gives me when I've had a bad day. And while it is not a particularly spiritual song, I felt the love of God through the Spirit with immense intensity as I recited that song in my head instead of a hymn. And then after the meeting, when I broke down again, I felt His love in the hug of my bishop's fantastic wife.

He gave me peace as I had to sing twice in a musical fireside my ward held last night (Sunday), because He knows I'm trying to not be shy in sharing my talents and because He knows how much I love to sing and how much it scares me to sing in front of others.

He helped me when I went over to a friend's apartment to receive a priesthood blessing and his roommates (also friends of mine) offered me ice cream when I came over, even though they didn't know that I had come over to receive a blessing. (I love ice cream.)

I woke up this morning from a good dream, and then my thoughts caught up with me and I felt myself slipping into sadness again. After trying to cope with some spiritual enlightenment, I went downstairs, looked out the window, and saw that it was snowing. The gentle fall of frozen water may be the bane of some people's existence, but to me, it is a gentle, quiet reminder of the Christmas season and the Savior that's at the center of its celebration.

He loves me so much, and even though I'm still sad, and my heart is still aching, and I want to cry even as I write all of this, He has helped me know He is here. He has held me close and safe in the midst of this ugly, horrific storm. He keeps urging me to not let go of my faith and to mourn with those that mourn. And if that's all He asks in exchange for this immense love that I have felt from Him, then that's what I'm going to do. And somehow, someway, this will all be for [my] good.

____________________________

The song in my head during Sacrament:

Bruce Wayne

This Christmas break has been a bit different for me. I was supposed to be heading back to Utah yesterday morning in the hopes of getting some hours in at work and just getting myself together before this next semester of crazy commences.  But things happen and plans change, and I am now in Nashville, Tennessee.

Last week, we got a call from my Aunt Cassandra informing us that my Uncle Wayne was in the hospital.  He has been suffering with attacks of severe stomach pain for about three years now, but the doctor he went to before just attributed it to an ulcer.  So, for three years my uncle has been treating and dealing with his stomach pain as if he had an ulcer.  When he went into the hospital last week the issue was with his gallbladder, and apparently the issue has always been with his gallbladder (there was no ulcer to be found when the doctors at the hospital did an endoscopy).  His gallbladder was removed, but when the doctor went in there, he found a whole slew of issues.

It was a scary week for all of us with new problems (for what seemed) every hour, but on Saturday he was finally moved from the ICU to the general medicine wing of the hospital.  I lost my Aunt Chris earlier this year, so this has probably been the worst experience with deja vu I've ever had.  My uncle and I are thick as thieves and to have lost him so much earlier than I'd planned would have been pretty heartbreaking.  He's one of my favorite guys and I am so grateful Heavenly Father has spared him a little longer.  Maybe that makes me a little selfish, but if selfishness means having my goofy uncle around to kick the mean boys in the shins, then I'm okay with that.

I am so grateful for all the prayers and thoughts that have been given on behalf of my family.  You always hear about people saying "my family has felt your prayers" which is great and beautiful, but I'm not sure I knew exactly what that meant until this week.  I have felt the warmth of heaven's embrace so close to me and my family during this trying time, and for that I will be forever grateful.

The Batman lives on, ladies and gents. And thank heaven for that.