Hallmark is Dead to Me.

Anyone that knows me well knows that I am a Hallmark junkie. I watch ALL the movies, I watch all the shows. I watch everything on the channel, and I love it. Well...I did love it. Until last night. My guess is that hardly anyone will read this, and mostly I'm watching this for myself because I have never been so frustrated with writing and storytelling in my life...and I'm an ENGLISH MAJOR. Do you know how many crappy manuscripts and screenplays I've read?! And yet, the writers of When Calls the Heart managed to surprise me with some of the most manipulative and horrifying writing I've seen in a long time.

Major spoilers if I don't know you and you do watch When Calls the Heart but for whatever reason are not caught up to last nights episode. I'll just put this warning in big bold letters here:

SPOILERS for: When Calls the Heart, Downton Abbey, The Flash, Doctor Who, DC Legends of Tomorrow, Designated Survivor, Merlin and Jane The Virgin. If you are not current on most of these shows skip down to the big CONCLUSION section:

Jack is dead. Like, so so dead. Six feet in the ground, dead as a doornail, dead. He's not coming back.

This was frustrating to me because I have felt that the last season and a half has been severely lacking in any character development for our favorite mountie. He was gone for most of it which really makes it hard to love a character. And I realize that Daniel Lissing approached the writers and asked to be written out, that's fine. I actually mean it. It's really okay. Because there are ways to write out a character without making your entire fan base angry. Would you like some examples? Great, I've already got them ready for you:

Dan Stevens as Matthew Crawley in Downton Abbey. We all knew he was going before his character died, and I think it helped to prepare a little bit. He died in a car accident the day his son was born. Tragic, yes. Unbearable? No. We knew it was coming and were able to take solace in the fact that he and Mary had a son and that there was an heir for Downton. I still love Dan Stevens and have enjoyed watching his career. I still watched the show after he left. Because they didn't emotionally traumatize me.

Robbie Amell as Ronnie aka Firestorm on The Flash. Dude straight up flew into a giant swirling tornado above a city and never came back. He was not as well beloved as other characters, but his death was tragic because, much like Jack and Elizabeth, he married the girl of his dreams mere hours before he gave his life to save mankind. We watched as he went from being presumed dead, to really alive and then back to dead again. It might not have been as tragic because we began thinking that he was already dead, but it still hurt. Not to the point, I wouldn't watch the show, and three seasons later I'm still an avid fan.

Victor Garber as Martin Stein on DC Legends of Tomorrow. Speaking of Firestorm, Ronnie's other half, Professor Stein, was killed off just this year. He was a beloved character that brought so much to the show. His death was heroic and not entirely expected. Stein had previously announced he was leaving, so we were all expecting it. However, the writers didn't pull the rug out from under us, and we were able to shed tears and say goodbye to the professor without hating the writers or producers of the show. Again, still an avid watcher and fan.

Every actor that has ever appeared on Doctor Who. This show has a way of pulling you in, making you love a character and then ugly crying when they leave. I'll never forget Billie Piper's departure from the show. It was the first time I full on ugly cried over a fictional character. And they didn't even kill her off! They just put her in her own universe without the man she'd grown to love more deeply than anyone ever could love another person. Russell T. Davies was not afraid to kill characters off, and he did it in a way you cried and thanked him for the journey. THAT is good writing. That is how you properly kill a character off.

Natasha McElhorne as Alex Kirkman on Designated Survivor. She was the First Lady, and she got hit on her way home with her motorcade. I'm still not entirely sure how this storyline ultimately plays out, but that was insane, heartbreaking and also compelling. They killed off a main character without completely upsetting the fan base. Most of us are still reeling from it because the characters on the show are still dealing with it. Beautifully written scripts with amazing storytelling. Definitely still a fan of this one and I really liked Alex. Definitely still watching.

Bradley James as King Arthur on Merlin. This one was so hard to watch. He was King Arthur. He was supposed to live happily ever after with Guinevere. This death was devastating. It was the series finale, but it was so beautifully written that had there been another season, I would have watched every minute of it. And still, even with the devastating loss, I'm still a fan of the show.

Brett Dier as Michael Cordero Jr. on Jane the Virgin. He was such a driving force for the show. He was such a fan favorite and yet, they totally killed him off. He was young, married the main girl, they were talking about having another kid and his heart literally just stopped. It was tragic, I shed a few tears, but I didn't hate the show because the writers knew what they were doing.





CONCLUSION:

Now, I feel like I've given plenty of examples from several genres and all had the same result. I didn't hate the show after. But, with When Calls the Heart I honestly don't know that I want to keep watching, and this is why: I watch Hallmark for an escape from the harsh realities of the world.

I do not watch Hallmark to feel sad or anxious or worried. When you think hallmark you generally think of happy storylines that always seem to work out. And up until this season of the show, that was true. It has absolutely nothing to do with Daniel Lissing leaving the show. It has everything to do with how the writers chose to write him out.

Jack Thornton had to die. There really was no other way around it, and that's fine as evidence above. You CAN write out main characters without killing your fan base. I'm angry with the how. Jack spends a year in the Northern Territory, comes home and marries Elizabeth, we're all good, and then he gets sent off to train mounties. The issue I have is that he assured Elizabeth that he would be fine when the writers, the cast, and everyone except for the viewers knew that Daniel Lissing would not be returning. And then they intentionally lulled into a false sense of security because we all believed that he'd be okay because this is Hallmark. Had he died in the Northern Territories, we would have been okay for the most part. Had he died taking bad guys into Cape Fullerton, we would have been okay because he was a Mountie and his job is dangerous. BUT, to kill him off in a landslide while training recruits was a slap in the face to all who have come to regard Hallmark as a kind and uplifting brand that always has things work out even when people die. This was pulling the rug out from underneath us and then ripping our hearts out and throwing them in a running blender. I have never been this frustrated with writing and storytelling on a show in my life. And I survived the end of Chuck.

I am definitely still a fan of Daniel Lissing who has become one of my favorite actors and I hope he does a lot of amazing things with his career. I do not fault him for leaving and I do not fault the rest of the cast for the terrible choices the production team and writers came up with. If this is the direction that Hallmark is going, I don't think my loyalty will hold out much longer. I would like to say that I'll be back for Season 6, but it's not likely. I can't trust the makers of When Calls the Heart to not kill off another beloved character in a truly horrific manner.

Home

Have you ever gone somewhere and it just felt like the most wonderful place in the world? I'm not talking about Disneyland, but I am talking about a few places I've lived before. Utah Valley has been my home most of my life, and I can't complain. There is beauty and a sense of safety next to my tall mountains, especially at this time of year. Last weekend, however, I left it all behind for a day and ventured to someplace else that is also dear to my heart.

People that have met me in the last few years may know that I am an Aggies fan through and through which sometimes seems a bit odd. I spent my freshman year of college there, and given how long it took me to graduate college, that was barely a drop in the bucket. Not to mention my GPA upon leaving USU was not the best. BUT, there was something about that year that dwarfs the rest of my college experience. Perhaps it was because it was my first time living on my own. Or perhaps because it was the first time I felt like no one was judging me or comparing me to who I was growing up.
Regardless of what it was, this place is home to me. One school year, not even a complete calendar year, that has altered the course of my life for the better.

The friends I made there changed the way I looked at myself. Shortly after I moved back, one of my best friends from high school mentioned that I was a lot more confident. I beamed because confidence is something I have always struggled with. I made friends that knew and appreciated me for me. They liked who I was, which made me want to be myself. They are the friends that I still talk to today, the friends that I value and treasure most in this life. I honestly don't know where I would be without them. The friends I have made since then all know that there is almost nothing I wouldn't do if any of my Logan friends needed help. I

And so, I walked that campus and drove around that city-my city-with newer friends that had only heard about my love for that place. I probably drove them crazy with stories and experiences around almost every corner. From the tabernacle to Old Main, I had a story for every place we drove by and walked in to. I still dream about that place and how much I really would love to return to live there. Sometimes a place just sticks with you. There has only ever been one other place to just stick with me, it's on the east coast, and one day I'll get there too. Because there's nothing better than feeling that wonderful

acceptance. Often, people don't understand why a place of such magnitude that seems so ordinary could hold so much meaning, but it's not about the place, usually. It's about the memories. Even if things change, as they always do. Even if the people that made that place what it is to you aren't there, it will still have an impact, it will still be Home.







Last weekend, I went home.

Invisible

I am not a quiet person. I mean, I can be, I totally can be, but in general I have no issue talking in front of groups of people, I can let my opinion be known. I do not hide easily among people mostly because I am not small. I am 6'0" tall, and have the build of a football player, and for a woman, that is not common. People generally notice when I walk into a room and therefore I am used to the stares as people internally wonder exactly how tall I am. Or if I, maybe, eat small children for breakfast (which I do not, btw). So, I am not quiet, but for a not quiet person I certainly do seem to be invisible to a lot of people. Don't get me wrong, I am loved and I have a great family. There are plenty of people that care a great deal for me and I have no doubt that if something tragic were to happen to me, I would have an amazing support system already in place....at least I think I would? I'm not willing to test this theory, so we'll just go with it. But beyond my relatively small group of friends and family, I feel like the world, in general, does not see me. This is proven by the year of applying for hundreds of jobs with a completely stellar resume (three or four of them, actually) and only getting 2 interviews. One of which was because my brother got me the interview. When I got hired at my current job one of the management staff pulled me aside and asked why I hadn't gotten hired before by anyone because my credentials were amazing and I have great skills and interview well. I told her I had not idea, it was not for a lack of trying.

Any way, I often, especially lately, feel invisible. I have felt invisible to guys for years, especially the guys I have developed feelings for. It really sucks when you fall for someone who barely notices you exist. In some ways, it almost worse than if they just told you they didn't like you and to go away. It's one of those things that is devastating in the long run and, unfortunately, has taught me to keep my distance from people. I actually let few people into my life. I am close to some, but only a very select few have ever seen me cry, or seen me cry when I really had no reason why I was.

This post is getting a little too close for my liking, but I really felt like I needed to share. I don't know, maybe someone reading this also feels invisible, but doesn't know quite what to do about it. Being invisible has it's perks. There was once I just stopped texting my friends first, like, I decided I would not initiate a conversation just to see how long it took some people to notice. This was good for two reasons, 1. It helped me see who among my friends wanted me around. And 2, it helped me not be as clingy or as needy. I can be a needy person, or I feel like I can be. I initiate friendships too often and give of myself too freely at times. It's hard because I tend to be a giving person. I'd give you the shirt off my back if you needed it. And that can be a problem sometimes when you are invisible to people 90 percent of the time. I have a really bad habit of collecting people that just want things from me. I'm an amazing baker and a really good cook, so I have had friends want to hang out with me because of that. I am very giving of my time and energy and have had friends only hang out with me for that. Yet, when I struggle and when I actually need someone, I often find myself completely alone. Pert of it is that I don't really know how to reach out to people. There are times when I need help and I need a friend, but don't want to inconvenience anyone, especially if I feel like my feelings are irrational. I had a friend tell me yesterday that my irrational feelings were still valid feelings and that it was okay to feel them. We need this kind of friend in our lives because it really doesn't matter if we're crying over the end of a TV show, or if we're crying over someone completely ignoring our existence whether on purpose or not. All of those feelings came from somewhere. All of that emotion is valid.

Which brings me back to feeling invisible. I promise you, you're not invisible. Not to the people that really matter. And trust me, sometimes you feel like no one truly sees you and it sucks and it's hard. I get it. I have been there so many times I don't even try to keep track. But you're so strong. And you just haven't found the people that will truly see you. They're coming, I promise you that. Hold on to that hope. Hold on for just a little bit longer. I find myself saying that when things get really hard. Hard things make you stronger, and when things feel uncomprehensibly hard and you really don't want to be stronger, that's when the really awesome things start happening . So, please, just hang on a little bit longer, okay? Because you're amazing. And if you're thinking 'But Sooz, you don't even know me', that may be true, but I have felt invisible a lot and it always gets better. Sometimes it takes longer than you'd like, but it does get better, I promise you that.

And to finish up, here's a great music video that fits with the theme of this post!

Time Is Just A Moment And It's Passing By Too Fast

I was going to post on Mother's day, but realized that my last post was on Easter and I don't want this to become a thing where I only post on holidays. And then the moment left and I hadn't written anything here and it just sat for a bit longer.

My brother and his family came over today and I asked two of my nephews if they wanted to make cookies with me. They eagerly said yes and ran to the kitchen to help. I used to dislike cooking with kids because it always seems to take longer and be messier, but lately I really have grown to love it. The three year old, who thinks he is Batman - so that is what I will call him here, wanted to help dump the ingredients into the bowl and smell the cookie dough as it mixed in the mixer. It was adorable, and his nine year old brother was the same. They were eager to help and really wanted to taste the dough at each stage, which I did not permit because cookie dough doesn't taste good until it's done.

After I put a batch of cookies in the oven Batman wanted to watch them cook, so I went to help him down from the stool he was sitting on and he defiantly said "No! I can just jump off because I'm Batman!" and then proceeded to jump off the stool and run over to the oven to watch the cookie dough "melt".

It is these small little moments that remind me why I love being an aunt so much. It's the messes in the kitchen and the jumping and playing that makes each moment with them so precious. Before long they'll be all grown up and won't want to bake cookies with me anymore. They won't even want to come visit. And I'll wish I had enjoyed those moments more with them when I could. How quickly life passes us by! How quickly those moments slip through our fingers!

Thankfully, Batman is only three and will, hopefully, love making cookies with me for a long long time because he's such a fun kid to have help.

I have been working on a novella lately. It might become a novel, I don't know. I haven't decided yet. There's definitely enough material to make it a novel, but it's a fairy tale, so I kind of wanted to keep it shorter. But it has unlocked so much of LIGHTS background and history. And it's only expanding further and further. It's amazing!! I thought I'd give you a little taste of it, so here you go!

Little background, because this is literally the middle of a chapter that is not at the beginning...Ethne is Cinderella and Keegan is the prince, but Ethne doesn't know he's the prince because he's pretending to be a commoner and is working in a blacksmith shop. He is from a kingdom that can control fire (hence the blacksmith shop) and was the first person Ethne met when she found herself in Solais, which is the kingdom Ian (in LIGHTS) is from. Ethne is training to be a warrior, which she was destined to be because her mother was also a warrior. The warrior's belong to a group called The Order.

One day, two months after her arrival, Ethne was walking by the blacksmith shop when Keegan came outside. He bowed respectfully to her, which Ethne had grown accustom to. It was the common greeting for all those in the Order. She bowed in return and when she stood again she noticed Keegan grinning like a fool.

“Why are you so happy this morning?” She asked.

“I have just received a letter from home.” He told her.

“Oh? And what was in this letter?” She wished he’d just tell her, but he was having too much fun dragging this out.

“There is to be a ball back in my kingdom. The king and queen have just announced it. And I am hoping to attend. They say it’s to be a masquerade. You have not lived until you have seen their ballroom. The entire length of the ceiling is lit by a fire that never goes out.” He explained. Ethne had never been to a ball. She had never even heard of an opportunity to go to one.

“How interesting. What is the occasion?” She tried not to sound too eager as she asked. He chuckled lightly before answering,

“You, of course.” He stated.

“Me? Why would they be having a ball for me?” She was truly perplexed at the thought.

“Because you are of the Order and all those who are new to the order attend a ball in their honor when their training is complete. Your training will be finished soon and a ball must be had.” He explained.

“But why in another kingdom? I’ve never left Solais, why won’t they host it?” She wondered aloud to him.

“Because Solais is just part of this world. The rest of the world wishes to honor its newest warrior. The work you will do here is truly remarkable and we all wish to pay our respect for your efforts on our behalf.” He said. There was a glimmer that shined from the corner of his eyes as he spoke of her strength and effort. She blushed at the compliment.

“I really haven’t done anything yet. I don’t deserve a ball.” She told him.

“On the contrary. You have already given us hope in the future. You deserve more than just a masquerade ball. But this is one small way we can show you how important you are. You must attend.” He insisted.

“If I must.” She replied, but in her heart she wanted to go. Especially if Keegan would be there.

Any way, there you go, a glimpse into my current WIP. I hope to have this draft done by the end of the week, but I've been saying that for weeks, so we shall see!! Let me know what you thought in the comments!!

That by knowing him here, we may know him better there.

Easter. My favorite holiday. I often have a hard time actually expressing why Easter is my favorite holiday. And for many years it wasn't that significant to me. You get a bag full of candy and some nice thoughts about Jesus at church. It was a lesser Christmas to me.

And then one year it wasn't. One year I suddenly didn't care if I got a bag of candy, or if we had an Easter egg hunt in the back yard where all my nieces and nephews could go find them. All at once it actually meant something. It could have been the year and a half I spent as a missionary for my church. It could have been that I was reading my scriptures and happened upon the best Easter scriptures right around that time of year. I don't remember exactly when it happened, I just know now that it did happen.

Over the last year I have been broken in so many ways. My head, my heart, my soul, my strength have all been challenged, bruised and broken. And yet I have lived through it all. I have been strengthened by a force beyond my own. I have been lifted and healed by the grace of God. I have found solace in the words of the prophets. I have lived through it and come out stronger than I went in. And it has just solidified my love for my Savior and Redeemer, Jesus Christ.

A few years ago my church posted a video gearing up for Easter, and it still brings me to tears. I thought I'd share it.

The video shared nothing that I didn't already know, but it reminded me of how important this holiday really is. There is so much that we have in this life and to look forward to beyond it all because of Jesus Christ. His love for us is so incredibly strong. He has conquered the world so that we might become all that we can be. He has given us the opportunity to succeed. He loves us that much. And I love him with all my heart in return.

I was reading the Chronicles of Narnia series at the beginning of the year. It is my favorite young adult series. It has always been a part of my life. I hadn't read the entire series in a very long time, so it was fun to experience them again. I love the simplicity and the symbolism that is intertwined throughout the series. And I love Aslan, the Great Lion. It is no secret that CS Lewis was Christian and used symbolism in a lot of his work. But I love the stories he tells and the worlds he created. And most importantly, I love the feeling I get when I read his books. I was reading The Last Battle and was crying because the series was ending, but also because I was reading the most beautiful words I had ever read. It was a final thought about the Pevensie children, and those great souls that had found their way back to Narnia, and back to Alsan. The quote is:

"Now at last they were beginning chapter one of the great story which no one on Earth has read. Which goes on forever in which every chapter is better than the one before."

And it just left the most wonderful thought and feeling in my heart. To me, that is what Jesus offers us. He offers us peace that can continue on and on forever in which every moment, every hour is better than the one before. 

Another favorite quote is from Voyage of the Dawn Treader when Lucy Pevensie realizes that she will not be returning to Narnia again and pleads with Aslan to visit them here in our world to which he responds,

"But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia. That by knowing me here a little, you may know me better there."

And I feel like that is one of those very symbolic thoughts that CS Lewis added for a wonderful moment in the story between Aslan and Lucy, but also for us as we look to our Savior. Our time in this world is so short when you consider the vastness of eternity. Are we taking the time we have here to better know our Savior? So that when we see him again, we will recognize his face and run to him as he has run to us countless times. That by knowing him a little here, we may know him better there. 

I don't know if this at all explains my love of Easter, but I am so grateful for this time of year. As spring begins and the world wakes up around us. Flowers bloom and the trees turn green. That moment of renewal as we also take a few minutes to remember our Savior, Jesus Christ, and his sacrifice for each of us. Because of him, we don't ever have to feel alone or like no one could truly understand. He has given us so much, he has given us everything. And because of all that he does for me, and all the love that he has shown me, I will praise his name forever. I will welcome the peace he brings into my life. We are all so incredibly blessed to have such an ally and friend on our side, cheering us on. 

May we all focus on this beautiful day, and may we all come to know our Savior a little better. This time of year is for renewal, I hope you will all take a minute to renew your dedication to following Jesus Christ. Following his teachings and his words. I think the world would be a better and kinder place if we could follow him.

The Family Pew

They built a church building down the street from my childhood home the year I was born. From the day of it's dedication on we sat on the second to last back pew on the west side of the chapel. The Carmichael family has ALWAYS sat there, with the exception of the 2 1/2 year stint where we moved to Washington state for a bit just to mix things up. There, we sat on the opposite side of the chapel, as most chapels in my church are designed the same.

A few months ago, my parents were asked to help with a different congregation a few miles away, so I attended alone. For the first time in a very long time, I attended all of my church meetings alone. And I felt the responsibility to sit on the family pew. Never mind it is a rather long pew for just one person to sit on, but I still felt it my duty to sit there and share it if anyone needed a place to sit through services.

A few times, I did not get there early enough and someone else did not know, apparently, that THAT was MY PEW. I honestly felt a little betrayed. How could they NOT know that we have always, ALWAYS sat there! As long as this church building has been standing! So, I was determined to get there earlier.  And I did. And I sat on the family pew. Several people even commented on my dedication to sitting there without my family and I'd tell them, "32 years we've sat on this pew, and we'll sit here at least 32 more." I believed my own words at the time.

Because, you see, I am leaving that congregation. I'm moving to a new one a little further away. One that probably has that pew on the west side, second from the back, but I don't know if it will be the same. In fact, I know that it won't be. Change is in the air, you see, and whether I like it or not, nothing will ever be the same again.

I've had so many changes come this year, and it's been great, but it's also been hard. Sometimes I like knowing that at least one thing isn't going to change, even if that one thing is where I sit for church on Sunday. But we don't always get what we want. And it's time to let go and see where the wind takes me.

I've already seen so many amazing things happen in my life in the last 3 months, and I know there's still more to come. I'm excited and nervous and anxious, but mostly, I'm hopeful. Because sometimes change is a good thing. So, I said goodbye to my pew and am choosing to look forward to something new. I have hope for the first time in a long time. Good things are on the way, my friends. Good things are on the way.

The Lesson of Pain

It all started last Wednesday when I got to work and realized I was feeling a bit off. My shoulders were a little achy, I had a bit of a headache and that general feeling of my good health slipping through my fingers. I knew I was coming down with something, but I still felt great and went about my day, pretending that I didn't feel anything out of the ordinary. In fact, I felt perfectly fine until that night when I found myself laying on the floor watching TV shivering, and not from laying on the actually warm carpet. I got up, warmed up my corn bag, put it in the foot of my bed, and got ready for sleep. Three hours earlier than usual. But if sickness was coming, I was going to meet it head on and nip it in the bud. I don't have time for sickness and needed to minimize it as much as possible.
I ended up with three more blankets ony bed and shivering through the night. I could barely move when I woke up. I had that lovely stomach bug that had been going around. It only lasts a day, but it, what a day it is. And for the first time in, like, five years, I called in sick.
My coworker told me the next day that he knew I must have been practically dead to call in, it happens so rarely. So, I lounged about that day, mostly tried to recoup and think well thoughts. And I thought I had kicked it! Great! I went back to work on Friday and worked most of the day.
By the end, hiwever, I was exhausted and just felt fatigued and left a little early. I had dinner with my family and was determined to rest up the renainder of the evening so I could do all the things I needed to that weekend. Oh, how God laughs when we make plans.
I woke up feeling nauseated around 2 AM, and knew that something wasn't right. I spent a majority of that night on the floor of my tiny bathroom. My head was pounding and I could barely move. It must be that stomach bug, back for round 2.
My mom came to check on me, thinking it was just the flu, but I watched concern creep into her eyes as I sat, huddled on the edge of the bathtub peeking through my fingers because my head hurt so much.  She offered me some Coke, thinking that if my stomach would calm, the headache would go away and we could get me rehydrated. It took her almost an hour to coax me out of the bathroom and onto the couch were I was instructed to sip both the Coke and a Gatorade in regular intervals. But I couldn't sip them. As soon as I did, they would come right back. I couldn't keep anything  down, but was finally able to sleep, curled in a ball, for about four hours, which felt heavenly, until I woke up to the same excruciating pain I'd left before I slept. It wouldn't go away and I crawled my way back to my room, feeling  rather sloth like. I couldn't stand because if I did, I'd lose my balance. So, slow crawling it was.
I couldn't watch any shows on my computer because the screen hurt my eyes. I hated the light being on, but I hated the feeling of loneliness even more in the cold dark basement.
So the light stayed on and my mom kept me company on the room next to mine. She worked on sewing projects and I would try to make her laugh. Because I like it when my mom is happy. But everytime she'd come by my door and see me lying there hurting so much, the worry would come back and she'd check her watch to see if I could take morepain killers or not.
Sunday came much like Saturday, with me on the side of the bathtub cradling my eyes because my head still hurt so much. I remember at some point during the night pleading with God to take the pain away. Or at the very least help me understand it. I am used to His answers and the need to wait for them, but I thought surely this time He would make an exception and I'd have an answer. It peace. Something. ANYTHING. But, my answer didn't come that night, in fact I'm pretty sure I'm still waiting for it. Those answers, the quiet pleadings of our hearts, you know the ones, that are every bit of our souls and every scrap of faith we've got left. We throw it all into that prayer of pleading and then sit. Hoping for an answer. For my part, there were more than a number of tears shed, and not just from the pain, though there were plenty to of those too.
There were the silent prayers I did not hear that I know where said on my behalf. The pleading for understanding and how to help this poor soul crying on her cold, dark bathroom floor. They don't go unanswered, you know. Not a tear is shed that isn't accounted for. But what would we learn if at the first sign of pain our loving white Knight came swooping  in? How helpful would that really be for us? It would be nice, but we wouldn't learn.
And so, Sunday morning came and I had now gone three days without keeping any food or liquid down. I had counted those sixteen floor tiles over and over and over again from every angle. I knew each detail in the bathtub non slip decals. I was in the routine of walking in, placing my glasses on the edge of the sink so they wouldn't get dirty. I had become a pro at washing my hands from my knees so I wouldn't get nauseous again. And I even found a semi comfortable spot on the door to lay my head when I just couldn't move any further.
Have you ever watched a parent's heart break for their child? I'm pretty sure I did. My mom, who was fighting a cold herself, would check on me throughout the day. She came home from church and without even taking off her coat came down to check on me. And the worry deepend. She was anxious for me to make any small improvements, buy I didn't. I stayed consistently the same, if not a little worse.
The excruciating pain that I tried to minimalize and pretend to sleep through was not fooling anyone. There was no sleeping through it. There were boughts of exhaustion filled with the craziest dreams I've EVER had, which is saying something. And more of the same. That afternoon, I prayed another pleading prayer up to God begging for anything. ANYTHING that I could do or say that would take this pain away. And again, the heavens fell silent.
That night was darker than the others. I didn't see myself getting  better. Normally there's some change, but not with this. I saw no hope. Now, I know what you're thinking, 'Really, Suz, that was what, like, two days?! Come on. Surely it couldn't have been THAT bad', and you're right, it wasn't a long duration to this point, but I had a sickness that was not going away and I was at a  loss what to do.
My mom came to me at about 5 in the morning asking for my insurance information so she could find a doctor that would see me that morning. She was not going  another day through this and I guided her to what she wanted and collapsed back onto my bed. By 9 she had the day off of work and an appointment for me at 11. I hadn't washed my hair in about 4 days at this point, maybe 5. My glasses were filthy and I literally grabbed whatever clothes were closest to me. It ended up being an old t-shirt and jeans with holes ripped in them. I could not have looked more homeless if I tried. But I just didn't care, the pain was the only thing on my mind.
We went back to the exam room and I sat there, head in my hands because it was so bright and my head hurt so much. The doctor came in and kind of looked over the scene. I'm sure he was wondering if I was completely there mentally. But after a few questions I could see the wheels start to turn in his head and he was trying to figure out the strange puzzle before him.
It was not the stomach bug I thought wouldn't leave me alone, but a really awesome migraine that wasn't letting go. I left with a prescription that would hopefully get me on my way to recovery.
This is where the lesson comes in. Pain sucks. It does. There's no way around it. There's nothing inherently good about it. But isn't it funny the things we learn through it? Some of the happiest people I've ever met have been through the most excruciating experiences. This experience was very small for me, really. But it made me stop and take a look at my life. Do I only pray when I need help? Do I pray only to be heard? My prayer wasn't answered your I wanted it to, but it was answered. I did find our what was happening to me, and even how to get rid of it.
This could be the start of a bigger lesson for me, though never know, but I am grateful that I know that my suffering is never in vain or without purpose. I am often reminded of my favorite scripture in Alma 7:11-13
"11 And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.
12 And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.
13 Now the Spirit knoweth all things; nevertheless the Son of God suffereth according to the flesh that he might take upon him the sins of his people, that he might blot out their transgressions according to the power of his deliverance; and now behold, this is the testimony which is in me."
Jesus Christ suffered for ALL of us, for EVERYTHING we'd experience. The good, bad, and ugly. And he did that so he could succor, or run to the aid of, us. How wonderful is that?! Someone that loves you, personally, that much. He is right there with us. Always. And forever