Scripture Study- How even our lamest efforts can help us connect to the Lord

I only had a few days to prepare this Sacrament talk on the Power of Scriptures. 

However, the message came pretty strongly- that the Lord wanted me to share that He loves us for any effort we make to draw His power in to our lives. I know regardless of our limitations and situations He will reach back  in so much mercy and with so much encouragement, to connect with us. I had a few people ask if I had my talk to share, so even though I haven't touched this blog in a while, I decide to put it up here. I hope it can help encourage someone to just try. I know if we do, the Lord will surprise us with His merciful responses. 

Power of the Scriptures Sacrament Talk                             

Chelsea Bowen Bretzke

Do you know where you were Saturday Morning April 5^th, 2014?

I do. I was 10 days away from having my 4^th child. Hadley Pearl, our first girl, that I never thought we’d have after 3 boys (it’s still so strange that we’ll be almost even after this third girl arrives in December). I was probably wearing my red zip up house coat, that I tend to wear way too often when I’m pregnant (I wore it while I typed this talk!)

Ben’s work still required a lot of travel at that time. Aaron was almost 8, and I was busy balancing home and school therapies for him, McKye was in kindergarten (with those awesome half day pickups) and Levi was a crazy little 3 year old.

And I was stressed.

It was conference weekend.  We most likely had lego out, sometimes I’d have conference coloring sheets, but they usually only lasted a few minutes with my active boys.

I often tell people 3 kids was my hardest. Ironically, I now have twice that many, 3 littles at home and 3 in school, and it’s still crazy, but I’ve grown more into it, but at that stage I was completely overwhelmed.

I was trying to listen to the talks, sitting as comfortably as any 9-month pregnant woman can.  Sister Linda K. Reeves was speaking, and she started a story that got my attention.

“Some of you have heard me tell how overwhelmed my husband, Mel, and I felt as the parents of four young children.”

Four kids? Overwhelmed? She might as well of been sitting beside me on the couch talking only to me.

“As we faced the challenges of parenting” she said “nd keeping up with the demands of life, we were desperate for help.”

I was desperate for help!

“We prayed and pleaded to know what to do.”

I had approached this very conference hoping for answers.

“The answer“she said, “that came was clear:”

I grabbed my notebook, ready:

“It is OK if the house is a mess and the children are still in their pajamas and some responsibilities are left undone. The only things that really need to be accomplished in the home are daily scripture study and prayer and weekly family home evening.”

I was bawling as the Spirit confirmed this was our answer too.

She continued: “We were trying to do these things, but they were not always the priority and, amidst the chaos, were sometimes neglected. We changed our focus and tried not to worry about the less-important things. Our focus became to talk, rejoice, preach, and testify of Christ by striving to daily pray and study the scriptures and have weekly family home evening.”  ( https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2014/04/protection-from-pornography-a-christ-focused-home?lang=eng )

This became my mantra for years. The thing I held to when I was tempted to get after myself for the many things I felt were getting left undone. It’s okay, I’m doing the only things that really matter.

Today I’ve been asked to speak on the power we gain from scripture study.

I love the scriptures. I have had times in my life, as perhaps you have, when I devoted a lot of  time to study. Before and during my mission for sure. I sat at a desk. I had reference books, and scripture markers, and wrote quotes on sticky notes and filled the margins with ideas, and cross references. 

And I learned a lot.

I have also had times when it seemed all I could do, is lay in my bed and press play, and let the words of the scriptures wash over me, hoping their light could dispel a bit of the darkness that seemed to envelope me.

And I learned a lot then too.

In both cases, I learned that the scriptures have power. And that it is a power the Lord WANTS us to access. They are the words of Christ and His Power makes His words powerful.

Pres Benson described this power, specifically speaking of the words of Christ in the Book of Mormon “There is a power in the book,” he said” which will begin to flow into your lives the moment you begin a serious study of the book. You will find greater power to resist temptation. You will find the power to avoid deception. You will find the power to stay on the strait and narrow path. The scriptures are called 'the words of life' (see D&C 84:85),… When you begin to hunger and thirst after those words, you will find life in greater and greater abundance." (Ezra Taft Benson, Ensign, Nov. 1986, p. 7)

Those years when we decided the most important thing was those spiritual priorities, the other areas of our lives were so blessed.

And times when we have let those priorities slip I can feel myself becoming frustrated, desperate again, seeking but never finding satisfactory answers or guidance. 

And so I have come to think as Peter “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” (John 6:68)

Who else are we going to turn to, google? Netflix? others many and contradictory opinions? Once we have experiences gaining guidance and strength from True Messengers-- from the scriptures and words of living prophets-- none of the other counterfeits will ever be even close to satisfactory- because they lack the power of Christ, the power of the Holy Ghost, the very powers of Heaven.

As Nephi taught: ”Angels speak by the power of the Holy Ghost; wherefore, they speak the words of Christ. Wherefore, I said unto you, feast upon the words of Christ; for behold, the words of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do.” (2 Nephi 32:3)

Sister Reeves was nothing less than an angel to me that day, she delivered a message from God to me, and I know angels are ready to help you find the messages and answers you seek as well.

But it won’t happen if we do nothing.

Ben’s mission president and his wife changed the old adage “anything worth doing is worth doing well” into

“Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly”

Don’t wait to read your scriptures in only ideal circumstances.

We need the power now and any amount of effort is better than nothing.

I bare witness of the blessings of sometimes the bare minimum.

 I know a woman who at the height of her crazy years with lots of children, would just sit and hold her scriptures. I have another friend who after her busy toddlers and ripped one too many pages out of her physical scriptures began reading from her phone, but worried that her kids would think she was just playing games or something. One day her little boy picked up her phone and said “Look! I’m mommy. I’m reading my scriptures”

I have had times when our family scriptures was in the van while we did the morning drop offs (which is actually awesome because they are strapped in) somedays we would have great discussions, others, I would  put in those illustrated scripture book, they turned into the little slide show movies. Do you know how many times, there were little phrases that answered my prayers from those simple, simple scripture stories, and my rather merger efforts?

One night I laid down with Hadley, and she pulled out her little New Testament stories book. I was exhausted, and I coped out, saying, how about you just look at the pictures and tell me the story. Then to my surprise, she went through almost the whole book, and with each page, said, “Oh this one! This is the one where Jesus does this…” Trust that our small and simple efforts are being magnified by the Lord and that He and his Spirit are working with us to help us teach our families.

The best rule I’ve ever heard comes from my favourite sister Julie B Beck. She simply says that her rule it to spend “Sometime in the scriptures each day”

Isn’t that so doable?!?

I love the mercy of our leaders, who knowing how powerful the scriptures are, are basically begging us to spend even the smallest amounts of the time reading the Words of Christ.

I was just down at BYU education week in August and Elder Stevenson was the devotional speaker. He encouraged us to take some of our  “precious screen time” and give  it to time in the Book of Mormon. “It really is simple.” He said and then pulled out his own phone and hit play. He then asked if we would be willing to spend 10 minutes in the Book of Mormon.  (https://news.byu.edu/faith/byu-devotional-the-ongoing-restoration )

10 minutes. Many of you can look at your phones right now and pull up a little chart that shows you your daily and weekly screen time usage.

I’m guessing we all have a lot more than 10 minutes a day.

The brethren are willing to give us these bare minimum invitations, because I believe they know if we will start to just do something, feeling the power of the word will make us want more.

And so today, as I invite anyone who needs to just start somewhere, to just begin, I also bear witness, of the blessings of striving to increase our efforts. 

Back to Sister Reeves talk.

“A friend recently cautioned, she said, “When you ask the sisters to read the scriptures and pray more, it stresses them out. They already feel like they have too much to do.”

Brothers and sisters, because I know from my own experiences, and those of my husband, I must testify of the blessings of daily scripture study and prayer and weekly family home evening. These are the very practices that help take away stress, give direction to our lives, and add protection to our homes. Then, [when] challenges do strike our families, we can petition the Lord for help and expect great guidance from the Spirit, knowing that we have done what our Father has asked us to do.

Brothers and sisters, if these have not been practices in our homes, we can all begin now. If our children are older and refuse to join us, we can start with ourselves. As we do, the influence of the Spirit will begin to fill our homes and our lives…” End quote.

Elder Richard G Scott has warned:

“Don’t yield to Satan’s lie that you don’t have time to study the scriptures. Choose to take time to study them. Feasting on the word of God each day is more important than sleep, school, work, television shows, video games, or social media. You may need to reorganize your priorities to provide time for the study of the word of God. If so, do it!” https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/general-conference/2014/10/make-the-exercise-of-faith-your-first-priority?lang=eng

And finally, from our Prophet:

“My beloved brothers and sisters, I plead with you to increase your spiritual capacity to receive revelation. Let this [Sunday morning] be a defining moment in your life. Choose to do the spiritual work required to enjoy the gift of the Holy Ghost and hear the voice of the Spirit more frequently and more clearly.” https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/general-conference/2018/04/revelation-for-the-church-revelation-for-our-lives?lang=eng

Let me share with you two stories of people who made the choice, to put in the spiritual work required. (sorry to my Book of Moron class sisters, who’ve heard me shar these before)

First is Sister Beck- who when she was the General Relief Society, she was a spiritual giant in my eyes, and I assumed she had always been an amazing scriptorian. Then I read this story she told in a general Young Women’s meeting:

“When I was a new bride, I asked my mother-in-law, who is a very good cook, if she would teach me how to make her delicious dinner rolls. With a sparkle in her eye, she replied that it took 25 years to learn to make a good roll! Then she added, “You had better start making some.” I followed her advice, and we have enjoyed many good dinner rolls at our house. At about that same time, I was invited to a lunch for all of the Relief Society sisters in my ward who had read either the Book of Mormon or a short Church history book. I had become casual in my scripture reading, so I qualified to attend the luncheon by reading the short book because it was easier and took less time. As I was eating my lunch, I had a powerful feeling that though the history book was a good one, I should have read the Book of Mormon. The Holy Ghost was prompting me to change my scripture reading habits. That very day I began to read the Book of Mormon, and I have never stopped reading it.” (“My Soul Delighteth in the Scriptures,” April 2004 General Conference)

I LOVE THAT… her talk goes on to compare learning to make rolls with learning to read the scriptures, it took lots of attempts, some failings, and lots of learning, but what I love is how she decided, I am going to be a woman who reads her scriptures . Because she wasn’t just magically Sister Beck, any more than Nephi or Pres. Nelson became Nephi and Pres. Nelson….they CHOOSE to do the spiritual work required.

My second example, is even closer to my heart

My sister Krista- called me up one day. She said, I think I should read my scriptures. I never have and I want to. Will you help me?

She said her mornings were crazy but around 10 o clock she could settle her toddler in front of a show and have a moment, she asked if I would text her around 11 each day and ask if she’d read and then we’d reward ourselves if we were consistent for 100 days by going to Calgary, attend the temple, shop at Ikea and go out for dinner . Now, my sister doesn’t really read- anything, let alone scriptures. Some learning struggles factor into that, but reading in general is quite difficult for her. She would not have considered herself, a scriptorian by any means. Then I watched my sister change. I saw her spirituality increase. On that trip to Calgary  (technically I didn’t earn, cuz I for sure missed a couple days) we’d be talking about life, like you do and she’d say, well that’s like so and so in the Book of Mormon! Me and my sister had never talked about spiritual things before. I saw the power of daily scripture study transform my sister into a woman of faith, with the confidence that only the Spirit can bring.

In closing, Pres. Nelson has asked:

“Does God really want to speak to you?  

And his answer was “Yes!”

https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/general-conference/2018/04/revelation-for-the-church-revelation-for-our-lives.p22?lang=eng

I really struggle with sleep. For years, I’ve had babies and toddlers waking frequently though the night. I was at a camp a few summers ago sharing a tent with my sister and my sweet little niece sleepily asked in the morning, “Auntie Chelsea, why do you your kids scream all night?” Add in Aaron’s bizarre rhythms, and the fact that he may always have random nights he stays awake wandering the house all night long and my own bouts with insomnia, I can’t even blame on my kids, but sleep is a real issue in my life.

But a few months ago, as summer began, Eliza was sleeping a bit better, and we were swimming so much Aaron was having good nights too and I was actually enjoying some summer time sleep ins.

And then I started waking up at 6:30- on the dot. Morning after morning. I’d fall back asleep, until one morning, I felt a small voice say,

“Wouldn’t you rather spend some time with me?”

I began pulling out my scriptures instead of going back to sleep.

I know the Lord loves us so much and He wants to spend time with us, he wants us to feel His encouragement, His love, His power, His peace.  

He wants us to know what it feels like to live WITH HIM, not just eventually in the next life, He wants to walk with us right now, today, and I know His scriptures and the words of Prophets are a powerful way for us to access that power and feel Him with us day by day.

Please, if you are someone who hasn’t really read scriptures regularly before, just start. If you are someone who knows you could be sacrificing more, let’s all “choose to do the spiritual work required.”

I know we can all do this. And I know It is beyond worth it.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

A week we will never forget

For those of you thoroughly confused my bits and pieces of info from updates on Facebook or Instagram or word of mouth, I'm going to attempt to sit down and re-live last week. 

Thursday, Feb 28th

I got up early, and lugged a still very sleepy Aaron into the van. Finally. We were finally gonna get into his mouth and find out what he needed done dental wise. We hadn't been able to get any sort of exam done or any x-rays. A good friend had refereed us to a dentist in Pincher Creek, who had done her autistic son's dental work. Aaron had to fast, so they'd scheduled him for the first slot of the day. I'd almost canceled a few times, when I realized how close it was to Ben's sisters wedding, but I figured we'd get it done and then head off to Utah in the afternoon, no big deal. 

No big deal until a  nurse comes out half hour into the procedure and tells you STARS is on their way, "he's stable" she says, which you cling to, even though nothing seems stable as you see medical personal running in and out of the room, "the anesthesiologist will be out to talk to you in a moment."

An eternal moment. 

Where my mind kept repeating "No, no, no..." and my spirit would thrust my desperation upward passing for a prayer. Where I searched back needing to know if I'd brushed off a prompting not to come this morning. Reliving the way my gut fell as I felt him go limp in my arms my face right up to his trying to comfort him as his breath fogged up the plastic mask little tears sliding down his temples as he gave in and closed his eyes to the anesthetic that would ravage him.

"No, no. no..." that can't be my last memory of my Aaron.

Malignant Hyperthermia was what the anesthesiologist said. I forced my spinning mind to remember, so I could text a friend and have her google it, so she could give me an edited version. Having now visited wikipedia ( and many other sites) I realize how wise that was, words like "life-threatening" and "eventually leading...to death if not treated quickly" would have crushed me at that point. 

"He's stable.... We caught it right away...." he reassured, his surgical mask clinging like a little blue beard, "not out of the woods yet." The very euphemism I would hear myself repeat to Ben and my mom, as I imagined myself crashing through the woods, grabbing Aaron and pulling him to safety. 

I would later learn, that anesthesiologist saved Aaron's life. Malignant Hyperthermia is super rare. 

I guess Aaron decided Autism was getting to common, so he decided he'd add in a genetic condition, triggered by certain anesthetics too. 

Basically--and this is my very non-medical explanation-- the anesthetic causes a neurotransmitter to stay open, which causes skeletal muscles to contract and metabolize like crazy, like a intense work out but on a cellular level. Basically the body can't regulate temperature, so even though it's called hyperthermia Aaron developed a fever, his rising temperature being one of the indicators the anesthesiologist caught, as well as rising levels of carbon dioxide. For medial people, at one point his co2 was up to 90, which apparently from the subsequent reactions of EMTs etc reading his chart, is insanely high. In the 1960's their was like a 80% fatality rate, but that has been drastically reduced by the use of a muscle relaxant drug called dantrolene.

But I knew non of this sitting at the hospital. 

All I knew was I wanted Aaron to live. 

 I slammed through the initial stages of greif and hit hard into the bargaining.

I had so many reasons Aaron need to stay.
And I was petitioning the Lord like a lawyer with a well prepared case.

So many things flew through my mind.

A random image of these brothers I'd seen last summer in PEI. Both in their early twenties the older, bigger one I could tell was autistic but it was the younger one who captivated my attention. There were crowds and so the autistic young man was struggling a bit, trying to withdraw from the extra stimulas. His little brother so naturally, as he continued to converse and laugh with the rest of their group, just would reach up and gentle steer his brother through the crowd.

I remembered thinking that kind of instinctual compassion had been built up in the young man through years of serving and loving his special brother.

How would my boys become like him, with out Aaron?!?!

We wanted to serve missions with him. Ben wanted to build him the three tiered trampoline yard  he'd planned as part of our dream house one day. Just next month I wanted to throw a celebration at Aaron's  school for Autism Awareness Day.

I could just envision this huge hole in our lives, in the dreams that we had so carefully reconstructed to accommodate him always being there. The thought of him not being there caused my whole core to ache with the painful thought of years of missing him everyday and how thousands of little things would remind me of my blue eyed boy. My whole body would surely long for him, even my hair would be haunted with the memory of his little fingers. It was unbearable to consider.

I thought of all the others who would be shattered.

Ben's Aunt and Uncle who lost their teenage daughter to a merciless blood clot after what was also meant to be a one day dental surgery. I thought how I didn't want Alli's happiest day to be mared by tragedy. His aids and teachers at school who had lost the little girl they worked with before Aaron just last year. It just was all too cruel.

I thought of how I felt I had searched for and received with such clarity a vision of Aaron's purpose on this earth. How I had held to the mission he had to influence and touch others in his unique way. How I  had come to the conclusion that his existence was intricately and indispensably linked to my own growth and progression and that of our family.

How would I become who I needed to become without Aaron?

And as I in desperation spilled my arguments before the Lord, I felt Him, as if He'd stooped down and slowly lifted my chin and opened my eyes, to a whole other vision.

I saw what I felt like was such an unimaginable alternative, yet it was okay.
And I felt my soul surrender.
And as I gave Him my trust, He flooded me with peace.

If it is Thy will to have Him home with Thee, I will be grateful for the time we had him and work to continue the great work of influence and faith building Aaron has always been a part of in his special way.  I will not loose faith, I promised, as hard as that would be, I will trust and continue to serve and testify.

If that was the Lord's plan, He would be there for me. He would compensate and make all the heartache be swalled up in his merciful grace and be for our good. I knew that.
But until I that moment I hadn't felt it.

"Your mission is the same. Aaron's mission is the same. Whether he stays or goes, your mission is still to bring souls to Christ. That is what matters."

It was as if I could envision another reality, not void of grief, but oh so full of comfort and endowed strength, where we could continue on in faith and be given beauty for ashes and where the bitter would give way to the sweet.

My will had been laid down, offered up to whatever the Lord saw fit.

I picked up my phone and went to my scriptures.
Words from D&C 7 seemed to be in bold on the screen.

What desirest thou? For if you shall ask what you will, it shall be granted unto you.

The Lord had used the teaching moment. He so wisely had let me learn for myself what I was willing to place on the alter, and now he could show me the ram in the thicket.

...Lord, give unto me power over death, that I may live and bring souls unto thee.

Power over death! Power! Priesthood! How had I not thought of this until now. Dr. Leishman, the dentist was a member of the church, he could administer to Aaron.

I paced outside the operating room, waiting for someone, anyone to come through the doors. Finally a nurse did.
"Is Dr. Leishman still here?" I asked. He was and she said she'd fetch him for me.

I think I kinda remember him from young adults up in Edmonton, but I really didn't know him at all, but I knew he held the Priesthood, and that was all I needed to know.

He came out looking so weary, unable to really assist when it was beyond the human mouth.
I looked at him with what must have been an equally weary face, with red, pleading eyes.
Before I'd even finished, through my cracking tear filled voice, "Will you give him a blessing?"
He'd replied, "Yes, yes of course, yes of course I will."

The STARS team had arrived and while they prepared all the medicines and machines they'd need in the helicopter I folder my arms and closed my eyes after watching Dr. Leishman's gloved hands gently reach and rest on Aaron's head.

The monitors seemed to beep quieter, in reverence, as in the name of Jesus Christ and by the power of the Melchizedek Priesthood Aaron was blessed. No proclamation of healing or calling forth of miracles, just a whispered assurance that he was loved of His Father in Heaven, who was perfectly aware and that He would be with us.

With that Amen, even though I still opened my eyes to probably the scariest sight of my entire life, I felt things would be okay.

I walked to my van to call Ben who was on his way with the other two boys.

Glad for the privacy as I sobbed,
"My baby, my baby" as I watched that helicopter take off.

Ben pulled up just in time for Mckye and Levi to point at the "ha-copper!!!" all smiles and excited, "Mommies!!!"

I hugged them tight and told them how much fun they would have a grandmas before I hugged my mom with tear filled thankyous  and Ben and I started the drive to Calgary.

I was so grateful for texting during the whole thing.

I could busy myself updating friends and family. Asking for prayers, and receiving heartfelt messages of concern and support with out actually having to talk to anyone, which surely would have just resulted in my tears. I was so grateful to feel like I had my friends with me, maybe not there holding my hand but instead I held them, my own life line, monitoring me as steadily as Aaron's medical machines charted his vitals.

Once we got to the Children's Hospital's paediatric ICU  Aaron's room was still full of medical personal. The anesthesiologist specialist pulled us aside and reassured us that the Pincher Creek hospital staff had done everything perfect, that they in fact saved his life. It's a very rare condition and so for a little small town anesthesiologist to one, catch it and two, be courageous enough to go ahead and say yup that's what it is lets treat it (plus get on the phone immediately  with MH experts in Boston) it was amazing.  I'm so grateful we weren't just at a private dental clinic when it happened. There was almost an excitement among the medical staff. The last case of MH at the Children's hospital was 10 years ago, so they were eager to confirm it as a "bonafide" case.

Because of the genetic component, we got to meet with genetic counsellors who told us we needed to contact extended family and let them know there was a good chance it was inherited and that before any member of the family went under anaesthetics they should be letting their Drs know their is MH in the family.  That we needed to order him a medical alert bracelet right away.

All while Aaron still looked like this:

It was so stragne to me that today was meant to be so busy. Aaron dental appointment, pick up Ben's suit at the dry cleaner, pack the boys to go to my moms, pack us for the wedding, drive to Salt Lake, write Alli's toast on the way.

I kept thinking of the quote from Pres. Monson's talk:

When compared to eternal verities, most of the questions and concerns of daily living are really rather trivial. What should we have for dinner? What color should we paint the living room? Should we sign Johnny up for soccer? These questions and countless others like them lose their significance when times of crisis arise, when loved ones are hurt or injured, when sickness enters the house of good health, when life’s candle dims and darkness threatens. Our thoughts become focused, and we are easily able to determine what is really important and what is merely trivial.

We'd signed McKye up for t-ball the night before, after going out to sushi for Ben's birthday. I had flooring samples sitting in my living room, I had outfits laid out on my bed trying to decide what to wear to Alli's wedding.

And suddenly all that mattered was wanting to hold Aaron's hand again and see him smile.

The Children's Hospital is amazing. We were in a parent room just down the hall from ICU. Which was good on that first night when he suffered another "attack" where his fever flared and his Co2 was up again. That night a high councilman from our ward who is also a pilot "just happened" to be landing in Calgary just as Aaron had his relapse. Moments before, I had finally opened a Facebook message from his wife letting us know he was there and able to come if we needed him. We texted him and he told us later that he'd known 6 hours before when he read an email the ward sent out and the impression he had at that time, that he'd be administering to Aaron. It was a beautiful blessing that helped us all feel that Aaron would be okay.


The goal was to make it 48 hours with no occurrences at which point he could come off the   drugs for MH.

It was a little bit tricky treating Aaron, just because we had no idea how he would act once he woke up. The kid can't handle wearing socks, let alone endure a breathing tube and dozens of other monitor wires and IVs. They keep him pretty sedated, not that it took much with all the residual effects of the huge doses of muscle relaxant he'd been treated with, along with just the weariness of his own body after such a struggle.

My one friend commented on how strange it was to see this picture of Aaron, "Whenever you think of Aaron, it's his eyes you think of first. Maybe because they communicate so much that he otherwise can't."

I just kept thinking he was being robbed of his secret weapon! How were his nurses going to fall in love with him without seeing his big blue eyes or getting his Aaron-style hugs and kisses? Or hearing his infectious giggle fits?

From the foot of his bed, I thought about how much Aaron would have preferred running his fingers through his nurses long hair, rather than have his lungs suctioned.

It became pretty clear that Aaron had a pretty bad infection in his lungs. Turne out to be strep pneumonia  and another type of influenza.

I felt pretty dumb when the doctors would ask if he'd had a cough or cold symptoms prior.

Yes.

How long?

Winter? I replied sheepishly (but honestly.)

He really has been sick off and on forever. Our whole family has passed sniffles and coughs back and forth, as often as we rotate beds each night!  It's pretty impossible to get oral drugs in him, so we don't frequent the doctor. So I felt pretty guilty about that. Again I was grateful for access to my friends via text, where I could share my familiar "mommy-guilt" and receive lovely vindication in return, in the form of "oh ya pneumonia can be tricky, my sisters taken her kids in a couple times with a "pesky cough" and been told it's pneumonia." Oh, good I'm not alone.

He probably caught the other infection from all the Isites, so I tried to just focus on the positive, that we could get him a good hard hitting course of antibiotics and get him all cleaned out and home healthier than he came in.

It was a hard few days.

We got to know the hospital cafeteria pretty well.

Had a few friends visit. Armed with shampoo and treats and the distraction of their conversation.  (You knew Ben had hurried out the door, when he left with out a hat!)


Ben's mission companion and his wife brought us dinner one night.

Friends watching my kids sent darling pictures of them getting tucked into bed for the night.
Happy and safe and having a blast sleepover at friends houses.

I looked at pictures of Alli's wedding over and over again, so happy for her.
Still sad I wasn't there.

We went to church. The brother that introduced himself ended up being a paediatric  anesthesiologist up at children's who had been consulted about Aaron's case.

We looked up medical bracelets, trying to figure out how to squish Malignant Hyperthermia and non-verbal Autistic all onto the little metal plate.

I tried not to stress about the disastrous state I'd left my house in, sure that the ladies from church were in full force cleaning it up.

We looked up road reports and kept in contact with Ben's mom, who was having her own adventure trying to drive back form Salt Lake through a pretty nasty blizzard.

We held Aaron's hand and told him he woudl be jumping on the tramp in no time.

I read one of my favorite conference talk's again:

At these moments we can turn to the great plan of happiness authored by our Heavenly Father. That plan, when presented in the pre-earth life, prompted us all to shout for joy. Put simply, this life is training for eternal exaltation, and that process means tests and trials. It has always been so, and no one is spared. 

Trusting in God’s will is central to our mortality. With faith in Him, we draw upon the power of Christ’s Atonement at those times when questions abound and answers are few.

We waited.

That little purple line meant he was initiating his own breath! I wanted to take a picture of every purple pixel on the monitor!

It also meant he was getting stronger.

They weaned morphine and upped feeding tube preparing for him to wake up, waiting for him to be conscious enough to remove his breathing tube.

So much waiting.

Or so I thought.


Then I heard the nurses talking about a little boy getting released. Sounded like a big deal and I asked how longed he'd been here.

Twenty-two months. His whole little life. Suddenly, four days felt life nothing.



Monday, March 4th:

After being restless all night, and forcing the nurses to sedate him half a dozen times, he was real groggy in the morning and just wanted to sleep.

(Even hospitalized, he figured 3 am was still a fun time to be awake!)

They finally got him awake enough to take out the breathing tube.

 I'm sure he was so glad to be rid of that thing.

He kept trying to open his eyes, pulling his eyelids up as far as he could, his lids still swollen with all the extra fluids.

Then I got to hold him.

After days of feeling so helpless to give him the physical comfort he relies so heavily upon, it felt soooooo good to have him back in my arms. Awake! Alive!

My Aaron, right where he belongs.

He was still really weak, fighting infection, 

recovering form all the trauma his little body had endured. 

But I could hold his hand. 

With the feeding tube out the next step was getting him to eat. The poor guy had been fasting since the night before the dentist, so he was ready!

We sent a list of "Aaron's foods" and they managed to scrounged up three of them.

The antibiotics were a little tough on his tummy and he was needed to go to the bathroom. Unfortunately the little commode the nurses wanted him to use, looked more like a stroller to him, so we ended up rolling him down the hall each time instead. 

It felt good to feel useful. Help interpret his "puhs" and "buhs" into requests for different movies, or sips of juice. He loved ice chips, and we dutifully spooned them into his mouth, while he rotated between Toy Story 2 and Monsters Inc on his ipod.

When it had been all medical stuff, I had no idea, what he needed. But with him awake, my momminess was needed again and I was there ready to help my boy get anything he wanted.

And thankfully he wanted me, cuz I wanted him too.

And I have the granny iphone pictures to proove it!

I knew he was feeling better when he started reaching for my hair again.

Grandma Bretzke and Auntie Jaci made it and got soem snuggles of their own.

By Wednesday they were ready to release him from ICU, they just didn't know to where.


There wasn't room in the other unit at Children's and there was in Lethbridge, so it was a matter of getting him there.

Late that night Aaron ened up on his own personal flight back home. 

His teachers and his class had been so wonderful during everything.

 Sending me videos of his class singing his favorite song from circle time, or holding his special letter books, each of them offering him a "Get better Aaron!" or "We miss you Aaron.

"When I'd showed him the videos, when he still couldn't quite open his eyes, or move much, he still tried so hard to raise his little hand to wave when they all said "Hi Aaron!"

This was the text I got when I todl his teacher we'd been moved to Lethbridge.

I still hadn't seen Aaron smile though.
Ben brought McKye and Levi to the hospital Thursday morning exactly a week since it'd all began (the longest/shortest week of my life!)

I wish I would have got Levi's face, he was so concerned, he looked right past me, searching for Aaron, and then pointing (mostly at Aaron's cold sore) "Owweee??"





Aaron can get easily frustrated with his rambunctious brothers, but it only took minutes of them being there before I heard giggles from under his blankets.

Pulled them back and saw his first smile in a week!

I think he knew life was going to be normal again.

Normal. We were discharged Thursday afternoon, and came home to a sparkling house (thanks friends) and quickly returned to breaking up fights and making messes.

But I feel grateful for it all.

Grateful that the next morning Aaron woke up giggling.




I am so grateful that him leaving us was not the plan. So humbled, and thankful that our family and others get to continue learning from Aaron's special life.

But I am also grateful for that sacred moment when my Heavenly Father helped me know my heart and feel what it means to offer up our will to His all-knowing and entirely-loving plan for each of us.






I know He is real. I know He is aware of every soul. I know He will help us grow and stretch our souls in every necessary way in this mortal probation-- if we will let Him. And that all that we endure in this life is just to help us prepare for the glory of the next.

I know there is power in prayer. I know the Priesthood power is here on the earth once more, that the same power used by the Patriarchs of old and Christ's own apostles flowed through a quiet dentist and helped saved our sons life.  I know the scriptures and words of the prophets and apostles in this day need to be continually stored up, filling our wells, so when the unimaginable happens living water can flow freely to our desperate souls. I know that the Holy Ghost is there to comfort us and lead us and hush our fears.

The primary was learning about the Atonement on Sunday, and I found myself telling them, "the Atonement is every way Jesus helps us." Oh how grateful I am for His help, His strength and His merciful love.

Thank thee for all Thy help, in all it's forms. I can't imagine going through that with out the Lord.
I love The Lord. I know He loves me. I know He loves Aaron, and sent him to me so I could better understand the intensity and unconditional nature of Gods love for His children.

And as good as it felt to hold Aaron again, that is but a taste of the joy we will feel back in our Heavenly Father's arms.

PS His dental work still needs done. But a few cavities can wait...for another week:)