Uncertainty

I've talked before about a few people who, only a short time ago, faced some uncertainty with respect to things that really troubled them. I don't think I've mentioned all of their specific situations, but I've alluded to this theme before on the blog. One friend of mine had gotten out of a pretty serious relationship around September and I spoke with him soon after, reassuring him that he can never be sure of how things will turn out in just a few short months. Another friend of mine had gone through some financial struggles at around the same time period, and even reached a point where she felt like she had to move back home in order to get back on her feet, which was the last thing that she wanted to do.

Within months the former has been able to meet and start dating someone that I think is a much better match for him than the last girl he dated, and the latter has gotten a couple of big promotions and increases that has helped her see the end of her money travails. What has been really neat for me is that I have been pretty close to both situations and seen the beginning of the struggles, felt their desperation, and have since seen them fumble their way through whatever uncertainty they had been previously facing, and emerge onto surer ground where they finally have reached a place where they each can exhale in relief.

And as I've documented on here, in my own life I have been able to see the same a lot over the last year. So I'm well aware that usually it's just a matter of time before those uncertain times become more certain and those things that once seemed so cloudy, can quickly clear up. I think that I've even given that speech several times over the course of the last 6-8 months. One of my favorite things that I will cite comes from Castaway:

We both had done the math. Kelly added it all up and... knew she had to let me go. I added it up, and knew that I had... lost her. 'cos I was never gonna get off that island. I was gonna die there, totally alone. I was gonna get sick, or get injured or something. The only choice I had, the only thing I could control was when, and how, and where it was going to happen. So... I made a rope and I went up to the summit, to hang myself. I had to test it, you know? Of course. You know me. And the weight of the log, snapped the limb of the tree, so I-I - , I couldn't even kill myself the way I wanted to. I had power over *nothing*. And that's when this feeling came over me like a warm blanket. I knew, somehow, that I had to stay alive. Somehow. I had to keep breathing. Even though there was no reason to hope. And all my logic said that I would never see this place again. So that's what I did. I stayed alive. I kept breathing. And one day my logic was proven all wrong because the tide came in, and gave me a sail. And now, here I am. I'm back. In Memphis, talking to you. I have ice in my glass... And I've lost her all over again. I'm so sad that I don't have Kelly. But I'm so grateful that she was with me on that island. And I know what I have to do now. I gotta keep breathing. Because tomorrow the sun will rise. Who knows what the tide
could bring?

I love those last lines because I really do believe in them wholeheartedly. In fact, it has to be one of my favorite movies because I think it drives home that point so poignantly, that no matter how bleak the situation may appear to be, there is no telling the kind of relief that lays in waiting. As long as we're doing what we're supposed to, and no matter how uncertain these times may seem, there are things going on behind the scenes that are working in our favor that we can just never anticipate. One of my favorite scriptures touches on this point also, from D&C 58:2-4:

For verily I say unto you, blessed is he that keepeth my commandments, whether in life or in death; and he that is faithful in tribulation, the reward of the same is greater in the kingdom of heaven.

Ye cannot behold with your natural eyes, for the present time, the design of your God concerning those things which shall come hereafter, and the glory which shall follow after much tribulation.

For after much tribulation come the blessings. Wherefore the day cometh that ye shall be crowned with much glory; the hour is not yet, but is nigh at hand.

However, in spite of how well I think I know this principle, sometimes there is still a disconnect between what things I know in my mind, and what I'm actually feeling in my heart. In spite of all of my experience with it, seeing it in the first person and many times over in the third person, sometimes it is still hard to confide and find comfort in a thought or an outcome that exists currently only in the abstract.

At times I'm worried about school starting in the fall, if I'll be alright in my financial situation, if I'll even do well in my program, or even if it's what I really want to do, or will get me the places I want to go. Sometimes I can't help but feel concerned for my mom and her situation, wondering if things will work out financially for her, and more importantly, if she's ever going to find the companionship that I know she longs for. For my own situation, sometimes I wonder when marriage and family will be something that starts to come into view. And I hate even admitting that because I don't want people to think that I'm so desperate for it to happen, or to even feel sorry for me that it's still not there yet, but nevertheless, I would love to have a better idea of when and how that's going to work out. The worst is when people in the church ask me about it like it's something that I've been avoiding.

I think this week I've just been feeling the weight of a number of different kinds of things like that. And I think it's only natural, and acceptable, to feel those concerns. What is most comforting about all of it is that in spite of not having a clearer answer to those questions, it is still possible to have those fears allayed through subtle reminders - tender mercies - that help me to know that The Higher Power is working in my behalf, provided that I'm doing the same. Recently, I have made a more concerted effort to be available to service opportunities, and to seeking after heavenly guidance, and last night while reading President Monson's General Conference address to the church, I came across this excerpt:

Mortality is a period of testing, a time to prove ourselves worthy to return to the presence of our Heavenly Father. In order to be tested, we must sometimes face challenges and difficulties. At times there appears to be no light at the tunnel’s end—no dawn to break the night’s darkness. We feel surrounded by the pain of broken hearts, the disappointment of shattered dreams, and the despair of vanished hopes. We join in uttering the biblical plea “Is there no balm in Gilead?” We are inclined to view our own personal misfortunes through the distorted prism of pessimism. We feel abandoned, heartbroken, alone. If you find yourself in such a situation, I plead with you to turn to our Heavenly Father in faith. He will lift you and guide you. He will not always take your afflictions from you, but He will comfort and lead you with love through whatever storm you face.

And that was all I needed.