RUNNING FOR HELP

How is it that the dog I didn't want ended up being the star of the majority of my musings?

I mean, she is incredibly photogenic.

Oakley Ann is my girl. I have no doubt in my mind the Lord sent her to me at this time and in this place, becasue He knew just how desperately I would need her.

I'd need the joy in her eyes and in her steps as she races towards me with the ball in her mouth, ears flapping and grin big. I'd need her legs moving the moment she hears my cry, and her tongue literally licking the tears from off of my face. I'd need her early morning cuddles, her head in my lap, and her name forever stitched on my heart.

He knew I'd need her love in these moments that seem heavy and overwhelming.

I don't think Oakley Ann could ever know how much I need her, but it brings me comfort to know that such a need seems to go both ways.

Our yard has been plagued by stickers, goat-heads, thorns, whatever you'd like to call them, and although this might seem dramatic, the only solution is to scorch the earth and start fresh.

We haven't made it that far yet, which means, going out barefoot is a dangerous gamble, for animals and humans alike. It feels we must always be picking those little stinkers out from between our toes, and none of us are happy about it.

Each of our dogs have adapted differently to this difficult predicament.

Sadie Grace, suddenly stalwart and stoic, walks it off. She doesn't need any help. She's got it under control.

Lulu becomes a statue, frozen in time and dismissivley waiting for someone to come and remove the nuisance for her. A princess to the core.

Oakley tries to get around on three legs. One foot held aloft in the air, she hops around aimlessly. Or, she did. Now she knows, I will always come to her rescue.

Upon seeing her teetering in the yard those first few times, I'd rush out to her aid, often risking stabs to my own feet in an attempt to help her regain her balance. A little confused by the sight of me sprinting towards her, Oakley Ann was understandingly a little startled, but gave gracious acts of gratitude all the same.

After a few weeks of our little routine, Oakley no longer waits in the yard for me to spot her. Rather, she comes hoping to the house all on her own, knowing that when I do catch sight of her, I will come straight to her side. The kisses of thanks have not diminished in the slightest, and the love between girl and dog has only grown.

That's my girl.

I wish I was just a little more like her.

My faith and my trust in my Savior and Heavenly Father, the people I am supposed to run to when I have been injured, has been wanning. Flickering. Dissolving. Almost non-existent.

Because if They loved me, why this? Why the heartache? Why the trials? Why the suffering? Why the unfulfilled hopes? Why the unanswered questions?

That does not look like love to me.

You know that saying, it's always darkest before the dawn? Such a phrase used to bring me comfort, used to give me hope and lead me to recognize that the light does come. Things do change. Days spring beautiful and glorious after the rough of the night.

However, after living in the dark for what feels like forever, but is really maybe a year, I have no hope for tomorrow. I do not believe that change will come, that something is just around the corner, or that all of this hard has had any purpose behind it.

I am beginning to grow tired of looking for the sun.

Lost, confused, and teetering, I keep running to my Savior. Broken and battered by the chaos, attacks, self-loathing, and wasted dreams, I leap towards safety, where I know my wounds will be bound up and cared for, and find nothing.

Or, what feels like nothing. No change of the wind. No relief from the pain. No ease of the trials. Just more and more difficulties. Itfeels as if I am throwing myself into faith, and each and every time, rather than soaring with the eagles, I am crashing to the earth. Hard.

So, why keep going back? Why keep trying? Why keep crying out when your voice is not heard and your pleas go ignored? Why keep working at things that seemed doomed to fail? Why keep trusting in a Lord that doesn't really seem to love you?

This week, it was my turn to prepare the weekly, Come Follow Me lesson on Sunday afternoon. I had no desire to do it. None at all. But I knew if I didn't, my mother would offer, and I refused to make her do so on Mother's Day. I'm not an animal, despite what my possey of furry friends might lead you to believe.

Half-heartedly, I threw something together, unable to hide my bitterness and exhaustion as I shared what I had created, and listened to the testimonies of my family members.

In the midst of the Spirit I was working so hard to drive a way, a question was posed:

"What helps you to follow the Savior when times get hard?"

I didn't have an answer to share with my loved ones at that time. Or, at least not one that did not feel hollow and false.

However, my mother, of course, did. Did I write down her exact phrase, no, becasue if you'll recal, angsty. But this is the gist:

"Because, though it sometimes feels that there is no hope in turning to the Savior, there is truly no hope in turning to the world."

Mothers, we could never deserve them, could we? No matter what we do, just like the Savior, we will forever be in their debt.

Because it's true, though it sometimes feels there is no point in following the Savior, in doing our best to be like Him and lean on Him, like we are getting nothing out of it, we really are.

On the contrary, if we turn to the world in our sorrows, we give it our hopes and our desires, our worries and our heartaches, it will give nothing in return. It will guarantee nothing.

The Savior, promises everything. He promises unspeakable joy, dreams beyond what we can imagine, forgiven sins, healed wounds, sorrows forgotten, miracles and wonders, a constant stability, an unfailing love, a listening ear, best interests, pure and total empathy, grace, mercy, salvation. This list goes on and on and on. All this and more is secured in the love of our Savior.

Even if we can't feel it. Even if we don't see it. Even when we don't understand, it is always there. That's an eternal truth, it cannot be argued, no matter how much we, or the world, try to argue it.

Christ's love is real, and it is sure.

Oakley Ann runs up to the house every single time, trusting in me, an imperfect human, to bring her the aid she needs. If she can do that, how can I not trust Him?

He is there. He is wrapping my wounds, plucking the thorns from my soul, pointing me in the right direction, crying with me when it hurts, and smiling joyfully at what is to come.

He is there, we can trust it. Always.

That doesn't mean it's not hard. That doesn't mean that I don't feel really, really abandoned right now. That doesn't mean that I'm not at a complete loss for where this ride called life is taking me. But it also doesn't change the truth.

Faithfully, with total trust, we can run to Him, and He will always be there to help us.