Ladders and Life

It's really difficult for me to feel the spirit of the Holy Ghost when I'm depressed. {It's hard to feel anything but depressed while I'm depressed!} I'm forced to rely on the direction and revelation I've received in the past. I believe my faith is strong, but the drought can be hard and I miss the intense connection with my Heavenly Father that I've formerly taken for granted.

On Sunday, many of the women I serve with in the Young Women's organization were released and new individuals called to fill their places. There was an abundance of tears and testimonies. I longed to feel what they were feeling, but instead I felt dead inside. Part of me wondered why I hadn't been released as well, since it's hard to believe I have much to offer impressionable teenagers while I'm in such a dark state. It was in this frame of mind that I returned home and began reading a collection of inspirational stories that arrived with an Easter package from my parents.

I flipped straight to the story contributed by my Dad. Here it is {shared with his permission}:

"When I was young married, one of my brothers asked if I would put siding on a new chimney chase he'd had installed. It was three stories tall, so I had to rent a 40' aluminum ladder to reach the top. When I finished the first side and had the ladder fully extended, I decided to be lazy and just pick up the bottom of the ladder and try to scoot the top around to the next side without retracting it. I t started to get away from me, however, and I was barely able to stop it from falling. I ended up stuck there, unable to straighten, lower, or move it without losing control.

It was almost comical until I saw that if it fell, it would probably reach a power line and really put on a show. So I then asked Heavenly Father if He would help me with this {for obvious reasons, I have become the world's fastest pray-er} and was immediately and clearly impressed to call for my youngest son, Shane, who had come to work with me that day. My first thought was, "He's seven- what could he do?" But I'd also learned on my mission that if I didn't heed promptings from the Holy Ghost, they stopped coming as readily.

So I went ahead and called, "Shane!" but he was on the other side of the house and didn't hear me. When I called a second time, louder, a garbage truck that was coming down the street suddenly braked and a strapping young man twice as big as me hopped out and came running over. He could have moved the ladder by himself, but he grabbed on with me and together we put it where it needed to go. I was so surprised and thankful, and as I told him so I saw that the name embroidered on his work shirt said "Shane". He said that when he heard me call his name, he had to stop and help.

I have reflected since on how obvious it is that Heavenly Father knows each of our names and knows what we will do. I've thought also about how amazing it is that someone as important as Heavenly Father could see fit so often to reach down and help me with my little problems here in the sandbox. It makes me love Him."

As I finished reading that simple story, I was shocked to find my eyes filling with tears. My heart swelled with the certainty that Heavenly Father does know us-- knows me-- by name. I'm so grateful for that small whispering of the spirit that reassured me that I have not been abandoned. My current discomforts {and difficulty feeling the spirit} are temporary. This too shall pass.

I'm so thankful for personal revelation, and especially thankful for the testimony of my Dad, which has always helped to strengthen my own.

{Image by Rodney Smith}