For real, we are Almost to the End of The OLD Posts...

I read through a few of my private posts, and I feel I can share them. They highlight my need for a Savior, the excruciatingly long path to repentance, and the blessings I have since reaped.

First, from July 7th, 2015

Three years have passed since I filed for divorce. It was such a hot summer day - June 15, 2012. I went to the attorney's office terrified that I'd lose all I had and that I'd somehow never get my life back.

That was not true.

I was fortunate in my divorce. I didn't have to pay alimony. I didn't have to share my retirement earnings, I didn't have to sell my car. I just had to assume the debts, clear out the apartment, and move on.

That was easy.

At least I thought it was easy. Looking back now, three years later, I've realized that "easy" is a relative term. I lost myself, forgot who I was and whose I was. I threw myself in a self-destructive spiral that could have destroyed me, had it not been for the infinite power of Christ's atonement and the faithful prayers of family and friends. During the last three years, I've trod the wine press, walked the road to Calvary, carried my cross up Golgotha. The only distinguishing factor is that I did not do it alone. The Savior stood beside me each step of the way, carrying me when I could not carry myself. He bore the weight of my sins, my sorrows, my frustrations, my inadequacies, my depression, my loneliness, and all my pain.

That was unfathomable.

Sometimes it seems like my marriage, like that life, was in some parallel universe, that it was some weird dream and I couldn't wake up. When I did wake up, the gravity of my situation stunned me. Paralyzed by fear, ineptitude, and the stigma that would soon attach itself to me, I hung on for another six months. When I finally came to terms with reality - I was in a dysfunctional, abusive marriage, and it wasn't getting better unless someone got help - it took all the strength I had left to tell someone, to ask for help.

That was painful.

Asking for help had never been my strong suit, so admitting that I'd failed at something, perhaps better stated that an institution had failed, caused a gut-wrenching agony to pierce through my soul with such force that I was physically ill. I sobbed and I sobbed until I thought no more tears would flow down my red, raw, wounded cheeks. Just when I would get composure, I sobbed again. This cyclic reaction permeated my life for days, and those days turned into weeks. The interesting part about those painful weeks was that when I asked for help, I received it. When I relied upon God, he succored me, guided me, taught me, and made me better. When I didn't, despair was my companion.

That was scary.

If I alllowed it to happen, despair sucked away my desire to change, to do what was right, to be a better person. It sucked away my soul and left only a shell. For many months, I walked down this "easy" road. I was bitter, angry, cynical. Each negative emotion fueled a subsequent negative emotion, and little by little I became callous and hard.

That was survival.

I then learned that I could do more than survive - witht the help of others I could live a full and happy life. I enjoyed time with friends and family. I actually went out and Sepenjoyed myself. I found happiness and success in my work and home life.

That was moving on.

It wasn't always easy. I still had occasional flashbacks and nightmares. On more than one occasion, I made some very bad choices that requiired me to rely on the Lord and my priesthood leaders to seek and receive theblessings of repentance through the atonement of Jesus Christ. I worked harder than I had ever worked, but I had a goal in mind - the temple. I wanted to return there, participate in those exalting ordinances, receive my blessings of exaltation once more. I finally accomplished that task in Mid-June 2015.

That was healing.

Second, from September 28, 2016
Some days I sit and I wonder, how did I get where I am? Did I make the right choices? When faced with challenges, did I overcome?

I just looked at my last entry - it's been more than a year since I wrote. I'm ashamed to admit that. It doesn't seem like it has been that long, yet at the same time it seems this has always been my life. I married that man just five months after that entry. It was such a whirlwind. I thought that I could never feel love like that again. I felt destined to a solitary life. Yet his gentle, kind, loving spirit, his natural protective instincts, and his love for the Lord and his love of family drew me to him. I knew from those first nights that we knew each other before this world. I knew that it was God's plan for us to be together eternally. That was a heavenly time. It was difficult. I lost my job shortly after I wrote that entry, but I never felt alone. I didn't feel too worried. I knew that the Lord would provide.

We submitted requests for sealing cancellation and clearance, and we miraculously received them just one week before our wedding date. I knew the Lord would provide.

I started a new job just two days after that wedding. We didn't have time or money for a honeymoon, there was no room to bask in the newness of marriage. I knew the Lord would provide.

Only two weeks into the training for my job, a job that I had performed for 5 years before in a slightly different capacity, I began experiencing anxiety attacks and depression. With prayer, love from a wonderful man, and help from an amazing support system, I knew the Lord would provide.

I excelled. I understood the material, passed my certification with ease. I made friends, I relinquished bonds that held me prisoner for so long. I felt in control. Good things were going to happen. Working opposite shifts was rough, but we talked when we could, we spent weekends together, and I felt the joy of financial security. The Lord provided.

Then that familiar fatigue returned. The inability to stay awake while working, driving, cooking, talking. I pushed it aside. After all, the Lord would provide.

Finally I sought medical attention, first in Fresno, then at UCLA. They told me I was overweight, my blood sugar was high, and put me on a diet. I followed it. I continued to convince myself that my health would return. Promises were made and the Lord would provide.

In April 2016, I received the news. I contracted mononucleosis for the fourth time. I could not work, I could not clean, I could not cook, I could not do anything. I filled out all the necessary paperwork to request time off from work. I prayed that the Lord would provide.

Three weeks later, I was terminated from that job...the job that was supposed to restart my career. It was illogical, unfair, illegal. My head spun, my emotions raged out of control, my poor husband was saddled with the responsibility of caring for a sick wife, a household, and all my financial burdens. I begged and pleaded for the Lord to provide.

I remained ill for months. I never really moved in to my house. No pictures hung on the walls, nothing had a place, my things remained in a storage unit. Every time I felt the light at the end of the tunnel, it collapsed again. Other illnesses, mono rebounds, unanswered medical mysteries, increasing debts and financial responsibilities, a husband without hope or direction. I wondered if the Lord would ever provide.

As my mono subsided, I became terribly ill again. Unable to eat or drink, I saw my doctor. I had diverticulitis, a sinus infection and an ear infection. My sick months since marriage now outnumbered my well months. But I took the courses of antibiotics, which made me sicker, begged the Lord to provide deliverance, and hoped to see light instead of a collapse.

During the middle of August, I interviewed for a dream job - an entry level position with the Taxpayer Advocate Service. I had interviewed for this job twice before and had not been selected. I was elated. I interviewed and was truthful. I felt good about the interview. I didn't hear back for weeks.  Again, I prayed that the Lord would provide.

During the first week of September, I received the call that I thought would never come. The director of Intake Advocates for Taxpayer Advocate Service called and offered me the job. She asked if I was on vacation since my email and messenger said I had been out of the office for one day. I told her the truth, hoping that I would get the answer I wanted. She said, "I'll use whatever authority is needed to hire you." I cried. It seemed the Lord did provide.

Scott and I began to make plans. We talked of saving for a better place to live, moving into a house so we could have space. I returned home from a visit to my mother's home tired but anxious to see what the Lord had in store.

I went to my primary doctor that Monday for a follow-up appointment. I felt extreme pain in my abdomen, and I was concerned that my infection remained unresolved. Concerned, she ordered labs and a CT scan, fearing appendicitis. She said, "If the pain worsens, go to the emergency room."

The following morning, I couldn't stand, I couldn't breathe, I could hardly think straight. All I knew was that I needed medical attention immediately. I drove across the street to the hospital and prayed that I would be okay to start my new job in two weeks. I called Scott. He left work to be by my side. After six hours, countless tests, and plenty of pain medication, the doctor determined that I had a hemorrhagic ovarian cyst. Poly cystic ovaries were the culprit, and doctors found two large ovarian cysts, one on each ovary. They are each between eight and nine centimeters in diameter. A uterine fibroid also showed on the labs. Was this how the Lord was to provide?

The next week, I got a call from Moana Sawyer, the director who offered me the job. She said that, due to the nature of the announcement, she could not hire me. Human Resources would not allow it.

No job. No money. Bad ovaries. Maybe the Lord just abandoned me. Should I change my name to Job?

I made an appointment with an OB/GYN at the request of the emergency room staff. And I began to wait.

I submitted my unemployment certification and waited for a response.

And I waited.

And then I got a response from them that they are questioning my eligibility.

So we could not pay any bills or rent.

I continue to be so nauseated every day that walking, dressing, driving, and eating are monumental tasks. I cannot find a job with benefits. I cannot find a job, period. My husband feels inadequate, unworthy, and unable to support our family. I feel the same way.

All I want is to be healthy. I want to have enough money to pay my bills. I want Scott to be happy with his work. I want to feel happy and fulfilled. I don't understand why we can't just have enough.

I went and met with the bishop, and he was so kind and caring. He offered to help with food, rent, and utilities. He understands that it is just a temporary fix.

When will the Lord provide?

When will he ease my burdens?

All I want is enough money to cover my needs, to be healthy enough to enjoy my life, and for my husband to have the woman he married back.  Why can't the Lord provide that for me? Why can't I have my righteous desires?

Let's not even talk about a family. My siblings are raising their children. And I find complications that could result in me not being able to have a family. I want so badly to be a mom. I yearn for children. I pray for the financial means and the physical capability to bear them and raise them.

When will the Lord provide?