Faith and the Power of Prayer
Grateful. Grateful. Grateful.
We recently received some very unexpected news and I wanted to share our story without boring you with all the details because I have a feeling, for many of you, this has been your story too.
Last April my husband was on his way to Safeway when he began to experience mild chest pains, something he’d never felt before. His inclination was to drive on ahead to the ER, but the pain subsided, so he went about his errands, then came home to do property chores, casually reeling off this information while wielding a leaf blower. So, obviously, I figured it wasn’t that serious and we just needed to get out there and play harder on the tennis court.
We spent our summer hunting for the right cardiologist, just to be assured it was nothing. He gave a stress test, then MRI images, which the technicians read with a grimace and a groan, sending Steve on his way with a foreboding “Don’t do anything strenuous! We need to refer you to a specialist!”
We liked #2 but he wanted to get better pictures with more precise cameras in Sacramento, plus he was recommending meds with scary sounding side effects. For a few months, we wrestled with the indecision about the risk of putting in a possible stent.
Fast forward through the holidays to January when Steve finally addressed his nagging feeling of getting the angiogram done at the heart center in Sacramento. The plan was straightforward: if the images showed clear blockages, he’d stay for just one night with a simple stent procedure, mildly invasive. Otherwise, he’d come home.
So, I went to lunch with my adult nephews, and when it was Steve who called, not the doctor, I was very encouraged. He said they weren’t doing a stent, to which I replied, “See, I knew you were handsome and healthy!” He went on to tell me that he required a quadruple bypass and that they had an opening Tuesday, to which I spontaneously burst into tears! My poor nephews, yanking at dispensers for every stiff napkin they could find. If I had to get unexpected news like this, I’m glad I could be with them. We remember all too well the endless road of chasing to the emergency room with my father’s heart attacks when we were much, much younger.
That first night I awoke at 3 a.m. with the very distinct impression that I could not approach this from the point of view of a daughter who’d lost her father to heart disease. I would need to be the wife—his advocate—and I would need to be strong and calm. The next sleepless night I awoke with a different thought—maybe he got it all wrong, afterall, why would they let a patient on twilight drugs call his wife with this news? I fell happily back to sleep, pretty sure this was all a big misunderstanding.
Leading up to our February 9 surgery date, we were now on our third cardiologist and when we met in advance, I made sure it was in person, not over Zoom, so he would remember there is a wife attached to this patient. I prepared a list of 20 questions about pre-op, procedure, post-op, and recovery which he kindly and thoroughly answered, building my trust with each response.
Ahead of this, I had received some important counsel that Steve and I should consider praying aloud together, taking turns nightly, something we had not practiced. Awkward at first, we quickly found our voices as we prayed like nobody’s business. Whenever someone else said they would be praying for us too, I would turn to look them in the eye saying, “When you do, please pray that I remain strong and not blubbering all over the place, and that Steve might be comforted throughout.”
For three weeks, I never cried. Even when my voice quavered the night before surgery, and even when I finally had to pull away from our hospital embrace, I was able to hold fast. I was not wringing my hands in despair. I was never afraid. Paraphrasing now from Mark in the New Testament: His disciples in the boat were sorely afraid when the seas were tossing them about as Jesus slept. They woke Him to ask if he was equally worried, to which he replied, “Why beest thou afraid when I am here?” (Mark 4:36-41) In a General Conference talk of April 2014 called “Let Your Faith Show” when President Nelson was not yet prophet, he said, “Faith is the antidote to fear.” In every prayer I uttered, I was GRATEFUL. GRATEFUL. GRATEFUL. And then I became excited!!
You see, prior to this event, I had prayed fervently, for months, that my sweet husband’s burdens of the heart would be eased, that he would feel whole and find peace—that he might have an open heart. Did that mean open heart surgery? Heavenly Father heard my prayers and this would become our test of faith.
I think there are times in our lives when we experience the misery of being human. The trials and tribulations that come with it can pile up in our memories…and sometimes we can’t shake them—and we get stuck.
But faith is built on mountains we must climb. As members, we rely on the Atonement and the knowledge that our Heavenly Father watches over us and we have His Spirit to guide us. But what if we haven’t had the benefit of the gospel in our lives, or anyone to cheer us on, or any sense of the Savior and what he can mean to us on a daily basis? Or any understanding that we are a child of God? That is a lonely struggle.
When I was a younger person, I used to say, “I thrive in the face of adversity!” It was my mantra, until I got so much adversity over the course of a few months, it took me the better part of a decade to process. One of my best friends from college recalled the time when we were 20 and all of life was still in front of us. She said, “You didn’t know the obstacles you would face and you didn’t think you were strong enough then, but you were because you got through each one!” That helped me to gird up my loins to stay positive for Steve.
I had a professor in my credentialing program teach me about the box of Every Bad Thing—we were to write down a list of experiences we wished we’d never had to suffer through, then on a separate piece of paper, write out the lesson we learned from each. When we only stuff our box with the bad memories, we suffer, carrying such a heavy load. She told us to throw away the experiences, keep only the lessons.
It was powerful. It could have been a Relief Society lesson. It gave me incredible empathy for the future students I’d have who would need reminding that it’s not the mistakes we make, it’s about the lessons we take away. We were put on this Earth to learn. It taught me forgiveness for others, and even moreso, patience with myself that I have done the best I could under the circumstances I was given—forgiveness of self.
From an old General Conference talk called “Master the Tempest Is Raging” by Howard W. Hunter, who was not yet named president of the church, in Oct 1984, he spoke on this very topic. His words are still soothing today.
“We will all have some adversity in our lives. I think we can be reasonably sure of that. Some of it will have the potential to be violent and damaging and destructive. Some of it may even strain our faith in a loving God who has the power to administer relief in our behalf. To those anxieties I think the Father of us all would say, “Why are ye so fearful? How is it that ye have no faith?” And, of course, there has to be faith for the whole journey, the entire experience, the fulness of our life, not simply around the bits and pieces of tempestuous moments…Peace was on the lips and in the heart of the Savior no matter how fiercely the tempest was raging. May it so be with us—in our own hearts, in our own homes, in our nations, and even in the buffetings faced from time to time by the Church. We should not expect to get through life individually or collectively without some opposition.”
In my Valentine’s anniversary card I gave Steve before surgery, part of the encouraging words I shared included the reminder that we have a saying in church, “We have endured many things—and we hope to be able to endure all things.”
I am GRATEFUL for a thousand things that came from this open heart surgery: I’m so grateful I got to put my caregiving skills into hyperdrive for my husband. He was an easy patient for me and made sure to thank me on a daily basis, although completely unnecessary.
Steve has said YES to so much that has been important to me for my spiritual growth.
He said YES to attending church with me twice a month…he said YES to attending Stake Conference…he said YES to my tearful desire to pay tithing in November…he said YES to attending FHE in December where he felt an immediate warmth and connection to men who are role models, more than any of the male figures he’s ever known—he gives thanks for you in his prayers. My husband said YES to receiving a priesthood blessing when we thought he might only be going in for a stent…and then he asked for another when we knew it was more dire.
He said YES to having the grace to accept service from sisters who prepared meals. He has even said YES to feeding the missionaries when he feels better.
I have tremendous faith that Heavenly Father has watched over me and protected me, with His Spirit to guide me throughout my life, even through my own trials and tribulations. I believe in the Power of Prayer…and Steve believes your prayers helped to keep him calm going into his procedure.
We both look at this as a second lease on life—open heart surgery to become open hearted, eliminating all the bad blood, embracing only the good going forward. We never would have had this kind of tremendous support in our old neighborhood. We were meant to be here so you could usher us through this incredible experience where we learned 1)we have friends who know us, 2)whom we can count on, and 3)Heavenly Father answers prayers. I bear this to you in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.