Wednesday, February 3, 2016

A Crater of the Mind

I stared down at the cement, focusing on the crunching of the fallen leaves in my path. Though it was January, it was another sunny day in Florida; it’s called the sunshine state for a good reason. Yet, there had been everything but sunshine in my soul that week . . . or had it been a month?
            “How are you doing today, Sister?” Sister Kreiberg’s blue eyes were completely focused on me. I turned away to hide my own blue eyes as they began to fill with tears. I blinked to clear my vision and nuzzled my chin into my pea coat. How can it be so sunny and bright, yet so chilly? I thought to myself, Florida isn’t supposed to get chilly.
            “I think it’s pretty much the same as it has been,” I answered honestly. I kept walking but didn’t seem to have an end in mind. Where were we going again? I glanced up, and in that second a vibrant blue house stood amongst a long line of cookie-cutter homes. Normally, this would have brightened my morning, but colors seemed to have drained from my world. I kept placing one foot in front of the other although it was more painful each time.
I felt a gentle touch that brought me back to reality and reminded me that at least I wasn’t physically alone. As I peeked at her hand resting on my arm, I realized that she was right beside me where she had always been, even those moments I didn’t always feel her. She removed her hand and pulled her soft blonde hair into a bun. Only a few weeks before, I had simply known her as the beautiful foreign sister; now she was my companion. She was more than just a companion though, so much more. She was my healer, my comforter, my realist, my confidant, and one of my closest and dearest friends.
            “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”  I knew I wasn’t putting her in the most comfortable situation, but still I tried to show her my gratitude with my eyes. I couldn’t portray any sincere emotion with my face.
Sister Kreiberg stopped and turned as to show me we had arrived at our destination. I followed and prepared myself. You’re doing what you love. Put on a smile, even if you don’t want to right now. He needs to see the joy the gospel brings.
            I knew the Gospel brought me so much happiness. It was one of the very reasons I had decided to serve. Now as one of the leaders in the mission and much more than half way through, I couldn’t understand why I suddenly didn’t feel it. Why I couldn't feel anything. My favorite things in life include smiling, laughing, and missionary work, which were why I loved my mission so much! Which was why I was a good missionary. I was a happy person! What was wrong with me? Who was I now?
            “Our Heavenly Father loves each of us so much. He created this Plan in order for us to grow and learn through the joys and difficulties of mortality” I felt as though my companion was talking more to me than to our new friend whom we were teaching. It was now my turn to testify.
            “I know that this is true. I know that God created this Plan of Happiness for us each to progress, to become like Him, and eventually to return to live with Him. We can promise you, as you listen and act upon this message we share, more joy will come to you than you’ve ever experienced before.” I had meant what I said, and I even put a smile on to try to convince him my statement was true. Following our lesson, we began our journey back to the car, and I couldn’t help but feel hypocritical. I had testified of obtaining pure joy. Yet, that may have been the first time I had smiled since the last lesson we had taught.
            Week after week my world was emotionless and cold. My life suddenly felt like one of those old television shows. Instead of the joyous moments that were shown by a cheerful and bright filter, my life had become the grey filter used to stress the sad and dreary parts. How long would this last? I stared at myself in the rearview mirror, pleading with my reflection, Please, just try to smile . . . even for a moment.  I forced my muscles to draw upward. It was amazing, no one could tell the difference, which says something about my acting I suppose. They were all completely unaware that I felt totally alone.  Mentally, I had fallen into the deepest of holes, and all around me there was only darkness. There seemed to be no escape. I only confided in my companion, my Mission President, and Father in Heaven.
            “President Berry, I’m trying to learn from this trial. How can I overcome something that seems to completely wear on my soul? Everything seems so dark. I can’t describe it any other way. I’m trying to fight all the negativity that enters my mind but the doubts are so strong and controlling. Destructive whispers are so convincing that there are no longer those that love me. I know this is not true. I know that I’m loved by Sister Kreiberg, my family, my Savior, my God, and by you, President. I’m trying to rely on the Savior to bear this burden, but I’ve never had to deal with a trial so mentally challenging and exhausting. I’ve been so blessed; I’ve never had to deal with depression before. How can I turn it over to the Lord?”
            “My dear, Sister Sillivan, know that our Heavenly Father is mindful of you. He loves you immensely and seeks to give you the comfort you desire. The Redeemer of us all is there to redeem you. Remember, the Atonement is for the smallest of sins as well as for the greatest tests; utilize it. Please keep me informed on how you are. If it continues to decline, let’s meet in person. With love, President Berry”
            As I read his reply, I imagined him sitting in his black pinstriped suit at his desk, as he likely had done while writing it. I heard his shaky voice as if he were standing before me in person, and I knew that he was deeply concerned for me. Every week I reported back to President on how I was doing. I lived for his responses each Monday. I needed his confirmation and his counsel. He was my father away from home. He somehow knew my heart and knew exactly what I always needed to hear. I often think back and know that, I served in Florida to specifically be under his direction.
“Sister, I want you to know how much you mean to me. You’re amazing!
Jeg elsker dig.” The note was laid on my desk with a small Danish figurine beside it. I didn’t know Danish, but I knew this phrase.
“Thank you so much, Sister. I love you too.”
Sister Kreiberg was everything I needed as I endured this trial. She was one of the many ways God reminded me He was aware of me and knew my needs. Her gentle reminders of her love, compassion, and affirmation strengthened me and gave me a desire to continue each day.
I couldn’t describe what I was feeling, but that wasn’t always necessary. My Heavenly Father and my Savior understood completely. Every free moment I had was in constant communication through prayer. I valued every second. Seeking to find answers, relief, and freedom. I learned how extremely merciful God is, and I recognized loved ones who walked beside me, even the very Son of God. I began to notice that every day I turned to Them, I felt something.
            The days began to be warmer, and with that warmth also came light to my soul. I began to see colors. Once again, Florida sunsets, took my breath away. I actually noticed the buds on the trees, which would soon turn into my favorite Magnolia blossoms. What seemed to be an eternity had only been nine weeks. There was finally light in this dark crater of my mind. It was hope.
“Sister, how are you doing today?”
“Better.” I smiled . . . almost automatically.