Today as I sat at the back of Sacrament Meeting, my eyes filled with tears. From where I sat I could see 10 newborns, 6 pregnant women, and 3 rows full of a family there to witness a baby blessing. I heard testimonies born about the joys of being a parent, and sang songs about teaching our children. The ache was almost unbearable as the strings of my heart were wrenched once again. I couldn't help but think to myself, "Why them and not me?" More than anything I wanted Branson to be there, dressed in his cute little church outfit, snuggled in my arms. I wanted people to stop at our pew, to take a peek at our cute little guy, instead of passing us by. I wanted to bear my testimony and thank my family for attending the blessing of our little boy. I wanted to verbalize my knowledge of the gospel and my love of Christ to him. I wanted to sneak out of the meeting to sit in the mother's lounge. Instead I found myself thinking...this just isn't fair! Today's salt was especially painful.
As I sat there crying, I kept thinking that I didn't want my "mortal eyes" anymore! When I see the view that my mortal eyes provide, it's bleak and at times hopeless. My mortal eyes allow me to feel self-pity, jealousy, and anger. They allow me to question myself and the Lord. They limit my view to here and now...what I wanted, and what I "gave up". I wanted to tear away my mortal view and see this room, these people, and myself in a new way.
As soon as the prayer was said, I slipped out the back door and down to the bathroom. I put myself in a stall and had a good, hard cry. The mortal inside me said, "Just go home...it would be easier, safer." Instantly I thought back in my mind to one of my blogs from last week about how this pain and stinging is all part of the healing process. I told myself "no".
Standing in the stall, I offered a silent but heartfelt prayer. I asked the Lord to clear my mortal view and allow me to think and see with "eternal eyes". As I asked for this gift for today, for that moment, I felt peace.
When I can look at this experience and see my son through eternal eyes, what I behold is indescribably beautiful. During the moments that my eternal perspective clears away my mortal view, I have renewed strength. I find purpose. I am overcome with love. With my eternal eyes I see how much the Lord loves me, I trust in his plan, and I feel an intense desire to return to him and my son.
As I continue on this journey, I pray that the Lord may allow me to discern between the views that I behold. I hope that I can learn from the mortal view and find joy in the eternal perspective. I pray more than anything that the Lord might give me the courage to face this mortal experience with eternal eyes.