Rock the Boat (don’t tip the boat over…)

Posted by Jenny Whitcomb | February 24, 2010 | 29 Comments

You know how you can pinpoint the exact place and time you were when you learned about the events on September 11th? Certain days become frozen in time; indelible impressions that mark a change. On 9-11 I was leaving to shop for a washing machine. My in-laws were visiting. My mother-in-law was upstairs ironing. There aren’t many events in life that leave impressions as unforgettable as this one was for me. There comes the realization that something horrible is happening—that forms the lump in your throat; the pit in your stomach: The thing that rocks your boat.
A few months ago I learned that my baby-hungry little sister would not be able to have any more children. My heart ached as I watched hers break. I felt sick as I watched her hurdle endless health-related obstacles that kept being thrust mercilessly into her path; prior to that I found out that my dad had yet another form of cancer to fight. It was hard to learn that my brother was in the hospital fighting a mysterious infection that I was helpless to do anything about. There was the Sunday night phone call that dropped my only Uncle’s pancreatic cancer bomb–I wish we could divide his battle into tiny pieces and fight it together. I cheer robustly every time my sweet little nephew with hydranencephaly makes it through another bout of pneumonia and then another birthday. Life spews out hard stuff. Sometimes the hard stuff hits closer to home than others… I wonder everyday why this constant wave of tragedy and hardship isn’t divided more equally amongst us? I marvel at all that is endured on an individual basis and wonder how I drew such a clean hand? I can cope with a house full of the stomach bug. I can deal with head lice. I can make casseroles and tend children and host unplanned guests. I’ll do things that might seem inconvenient, hard or just plain annoying. But how? How can I maintain balance when I feel helpless to stop death, disease, heartache and pain?

I was at a museum with my children last week; watching as they laughed and joked with each other, moving giant-sized chess pieces around a room-sized board when I got the phone call that marked a change. Mandy, my friend, my visiting teacher had succumbed to the liver disease that was tormenting her body. She had been number one on the donor list. Certainly being number one meant she was next; that the transplant was days, hours, minutes away. Surely a young, vibrant mother of four school-aged children couldn’t have finished her time on earth so soon?

I re-read a short book as I was climbing into bed the other night. The opening lines read like this:

Thunder rumbles in the mountain passes
And lightning rattles the eaves of our houses.
Floodwaters await in our avenues.

I started to weep. Thunder has rumbled my mountains. The eaves of my personal house are rattling so loudly I can hardly hear myself think. The floodwaters that are my tears; they are waiting in the avenues of my emotions. And hoo boy does my village feel unprotected.

Snow falls upon snow, falls upon snow to avalanche
Over unprotected villages.
The sky slips low and gray and threatening.

I finished the book. I lay in bed trying to turn off my thoughts. The room was spinning. The title of the book by Maya Angelou is Amazing Peace. I wasn’t feeling it. I reread it, and inserted the word “hope” in the place of peace; and then again tried with “faith.” It’s hard to realize that despite devastating events, the world keeps turning. People go about their days. Awful things happen, and people still buy donuts. Harder things and more horrific events are occurring everywhere in the world, but this one thing has rocked mine.

We question ourselves. What have we done to so affront nature?
We interrogate and worry God.
Are you there? Are you there, really?
Does the covenant you made with us still hold?

Maya Angelou writes “Into this climate of fear and apprehension, Christmas enters”
For me I know the correct wording of this phrase is “Christ enters.”
Christ has felt this anguish. Christ has lived the uncertainty, the fear, and the fragile reality that is mortality. He has suffered through these moments already. Knowing this makes the heavy moments a little less heavy. There exists for me, somehow, the knowledge that this amazing gift won’t make these hard things easier, just a little more tolerable. My shoulders can bear the burdens; my neck can hold up my head. My fragile boat is rocking, but I’m staying in.

Category: Daily Special, Slice of Life
Tags: adversity > atonement > burdens > faith > fear > finding peace > hardships > hope > Maya Angelou > mortality > mourning with those that mourn > questions > trials

Comments

29 Responses to “Rock the Boat (don’t tip the boat over…)”

April
February 24th, 2010 @ 7:44 am

Louisa May Alcott says “I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship”
As I read this I have visions of the twelve apostles on the stormy sea, scared they would all perish. Then miraculously the Savior steps in and calms the angry waters. I don’t know how he does it but I believe he can.
He can come in and say peace be still. Even if the storm goes on around you.
Rose
February 24th, 2010 @ 8:15 am

It is so hard to sit by and watch helplessly. I feel this way all the time, and then I remember to pray. Thank Heavenly Father for prayer. We wouldn’t be able to do anything with out it.
Angela
February 24th, 2010 @ 8:26 am

What a beautiful post. Thank you.
Kay
February 24th, 2010 @ 8:50 am

I still cry every single day about the awful events that happened to me late last year. Then I go out and about and tell everyone that I am fine when they ask how I am. My close friends only know the truth that my heart is breaking, that I go to church only because my husband is the Bishop and I know I have to.

I know too that I will get through this. That peace will return. That life will move on for me just as it has for everyone else. This too shall pass. Sometimes it feels as if we are drowning in our trials, but at least I am still on the rocking boat and not in the water.
Ellen
February 24th, 2010 @ 8:54 am

I loved this post.
Becky Orton
February 24th, 2010 @ 9:04 am

I grabbed me a bowl of cereal and sat down to read your post. THAT was a mistake. I’m sitting her crying over my shredded wheat. The tears are diluting my milk. I think April said it perfectly! PEACE…BE STILL. Beautifully written Jen. xoxo
Melissa M.
February 24th, 2010 @ 9:40 am

What a lovely post, Jenny. It brought me to tears. I’m so sorry about your friend!

Kay, sending you hugs. I hope that the sun comes out again for you soon.
Jen
February 24th, 2010 @ 10:21 am

Beautiful post. I remember Elder Holland speaking to an adult session of stake conference once, and he talked about a book, I think it was called “Night,” and how it is so hard to remember that the sun is still shining above the clouds even though they are heavy and dark and rocking your boat so much that you don’t know if you will survive the storm. But he testified that the sun (son) is there, and eventually after every storm the calm returns, and every night is followed by day. God bless you.
Rebecca
February 24th, 2010 @ 10:46 am

I wonder if we’ll understand “the Lord’s timing” or the distribution of trials when we pass from this life. It’s hard to understand while we’re here, but in this thing I think we are given a great opportunity to strengthen our faith. The apostles went out on the boat for a nice ride, not a near death experience, but the Lord has lessons in store to refine our souls.

I used to think that faith makes times like these less painful, perhaps it does, but I’ll never forget hearing EP’s SIL (Robes’ wife) mention in RS that sorrow is part of our life’s plan. When the peace does come we know the source, although the ride is still so very hard.

Sending hugs to you, Jenny!
KShaw
February 24th, 2010 @ 10:50 am

Thank you. Being in the middle of our own storm, this was a timely and much needed reminder of the love our Savior and Father in Heaven has for each of us. Thank you.
Kerri
February 24th, 2010 @ 11:30 am

So beautiful and much-needed.
al
February 24th, 2010 @ 11:57 am

Wonderful post. I needed this perspective today. Thank you.
Jill Shellety
February 24th, 2010 @ 12:04 pm

I just finished last night reading, “When Times Are Tough…5 Scriptures that will help you get through almost anything” by John Bytheway. It was excellent and very thought provoking. Many good quotes, such as this one by President John Taylor:

“God lives, and his eyes are over us, and His angels are round and about us, and they are more interested in us than we are in ourselves, ten thousand times, but we do not know it.”
Andrea R.
February 24th, 2010 @ 12:15 pm

Jennie, thank you for a beautiful post. Like Kay, I cry privately in my closet and then go out and put on a brave face for my friends and acquaintances who ask how I am. Sometimes it doesn’t always appear that a storm is raging, but so many people are navigating their way through rough waters quietly to themselves.
Steph @ Diapers and Divinity
February 24th, 2010 @ 12:16 pm

I, like you, have witnessed a lot of heaviness lately– others’ pain and suffering, even though I’ve felt very blessed in my own circumstances. A good friend helped me to realize that these experiences where we suffer because of the pain of others gives us glimpses into the Atonement. For Christ, after all, can succor and heal us because he experienced the pain of our pain, the sorrow of our sorrow. I think it might be helping me to gain compassion and a dependence on Him, and preparing me to minister a little more like He did. Thanks for your post!
mormonhermitmom
February 24th, 2010 @ 12:34 pm

I’ve been through those kinds of storms. A moment of rest feels so good after, or in between, storms; but when you’re in it, the storm is all you can think about.
More power to those who are riding the waves.
Tay
February 24th, 2010 @ 12:40 pm

It’s a little scary when your boat is rocked hard and you find yourself barely hanging onto the side. Just to get back on is tough. And then you’ve got to ride it out. Like April said, it’s a good thing we have Christ in our hearts to bring peace to the storms within us.
Blue
February 24th, 2010 @ 12:55 pm

there have been times when i wondered when the “weather” will cease and my life will enjoy a season of uninterrupted sunshine and warmth. but then i realize that even in the summer, rain showers come. and without them things would literally shrivel up and die. and so, too, in my life, without the showers and storms of life, i think my soul would wither and i would easily forget my Lord, leading to my eventual death. so as long as i am striving to keep close to Him, i will not perish. and in hindsight, i see the growth i’ve experienced because of the trials i’ve been through. there are many moments when i wish i could just have a different life than the one i’ve got, but i realize that if i didn’t have my particular set of trials, i’d have different ones. tho’ they have been heavy at times, and i’ve almost “sunk” beneath them, i have been snatched both literally and figuratively, before i was ruined. there’ve been times when i’ve honestly sung the song “hold on, the light will come” to myself all day long to make it through that day. and it has. the light DOES come. and though i can’t feel it sometimes on dark, stormy days, i know that no matter where i am, just a few thousand feet above me is brilliant light that sustains this whole earth. i love the symbolism of the sun.

hold on, jenny! ♥
Yankee Girl
February 24th, 2010 @ 1:05 pm

Love that poem and love your post.
Sista Laurel
February 24th, 2010 @ 1:06 pm

What a beautiful post! In the face of adversity it can be so hard for me to find peace, hope, and faith. I always knew I wasn’t alone, but not until I realized that my Savior had felt my very feelings, had walked in my shoes, was I able to find the strengh to search for peace, hope and faith during trying times. Thank you for this very touching post.
Faithfull
February 24th, 2010 @ 1:13 pm

Great post Jenny,
Confession time, I occasionally lurk on Becky’s BLOG just to see what kind of crazy trial or incident she is going through now, it seems her trials are never ending. But she is pretty amazing and seems to take most things in stride that would be a major trial to me, and even sees humor in it sometimes. But the thing I notice most from Becky’s blog is she loves life and her family, it is obvious that her family and extended family is very important to her. Her statement on her Blog kind of sums it up.

“LIVE, LAUGH and LOVE That’s how we roll.”

Jenny the sorrow/empathy you have for those that are suffering/mourning,To me says a lot about you too, that you care, to me that makes you pretty great also.

P.S. Becky if you see this, I thought the medicine diaper photo was great, it was great because you could laugh about it, cuz that’s how you roll.
Amy Jo
February 24th, 2010 @ 4:57 pm

You make me proud to be your twin. Best post ever. Usually happens when it’s so sincere and tender.
Melissa
February 24th, 2010 @ 9:59 pm

Jenny, I’m so sorry for your friend…and sister, father, and uncle. I bet you are a great support to those whose lives you touch. You can offer sympathy, love and strength. Thank you for reminding me to appreciate the things that are do-able, and to remember who can help when the boat is rocking.
Whitney Johnson
February 24th, 2010 @ 10:05 pm

Jenny —

This is so very beautiful.

My boat is rocking, but I’m staying in.

I needed to hear that.

Whitney
Laura
February 25th, 2010 @ 12:55 am

this really was an amazing post! YOU are a talented lady with an incredible heart. I love and admire you my friend~
Christy
February 25th, 2010 @ 8:54 am

I love the first quote by Louisa May Alcott, fits perfectly with your post, which was so beautiful today. I had to read it over a few times to make sure I soaked it all in. The storms of life are sometimes too sad to face. I am comforted by the fact that it is our Savior who can calm these storms for us. The calming may come from many different directions, but ultimately from the one true source of love and light. Keep hanging on!
Heather O.
February 25th, 2010 @ 11:06 pm

Thanks, Jenny. A wonderful post about an amazing family. I feel lucky to know y’all.
Shirley
February 26th, 2010 @ 3:44 pm

What a lovely post, Jenny. I am so sorry about your dear friend, Mandy. I know how you feel–when my cousin Diane lost her life to complications of her leukemia following her second stem cell transplant, it was devastating. She was such a vibrant gal and was also a dear friend. I miss her and I talk to her all the time. We always ask ourselves why those we love have to endure illnesses, tragedy in their life, sadness, etc. Life goes on for us and we will always have special memories. Uncle D has gone back to work!! He completed his radiation on Wednesday and starts chemo again in a couple of weeks. He is feeling pretty good given his situation, and when he feels well, I feel better, too. I look to today only, as that is what God gives us–one day at a time. He has breakfast with his buddies and then goes to his shop. He rests when he needs to, but at least he is keeping busy. I’d say my boat is rocking a bit, too, but I’m trying to keep it steady. No one said life was easy, that’s for sure. You write beautifully, Jenny, and this post was truly awesome.
Sue
March 3rd, 2010 @ 11:43 am

Boy, you’ve had more than your share of heavy burdens recently, that’s for sure.

One of my sons has had more than his share recently, too. When we were talking about his problems and the problems surrounding him on the phone the other day, I mentioned that life often seems to play out this way. The sea of mortality is tranquil for a period of time and then wave after wave of turmoil and trouble hit all at once. I guess the tranquil times are mainly so we can float on our backs and rest up for a bit before the new set of waves appears.

We decided the waves are our teachers, if we let them be. The trick is to ride them out, and it helps to remember that those tranquil times when we can catch our breath are coming, too.

NIce post. Thanks.

=)