THE RIGHT TO CHOOSE

"Are you going to be ok?"

I cannot count the number of times my mother has gutted me with this question over the past twelve months, her face contorted with pure love and concern.

And despite the fact that I knew my answer would not ease the worry from her features, I gifted her the same one, each and every time.

"I don't have a choice."

That is how my life has felt for the last year. Out of my control. Out of my hands. Outside of my abilities.

It hasn't felt as if I've had any choices.

I didn't have a choice when these series of trials hit me like a bulldozer, backing me over for good measure every time I stood up.

I didn't have a choice when my literary projects continued to be rejected.

I didn't have a choice when, though I already felt overwhelmed by the tasks given me, thousands of others were heaped on my plate.

I didn't have a choice in the duration of it all, no matter how many times I begged for an end.

I didn't have a choice in whether or not I received answers to my questions.

I didn't have a choice. I just had to keep chugging along, hoping that eventually I'd make it through the tunnel. Doubting the possibility completely as the tunnel grew longer, I wondered why this specific one was necessary in the first place.

It wasn't. At least, I felt it wasn't.

Which is why I grew so angry and bitter with God. Becasue how? How could He put me through something so senseless, so unneeded? Why would He do that if He loved me? Why wasn't He making the "lessons" stop? Why wasn't He listening?

Because, let me tell you, I have never spent so much time on my knees in prayer. That spot on my bedspread will be stained with tears for the rest of my days. No amount of vacuuming willl ever remove my indent from the carpet. The walls will always retain the echoes of the sounds of my cries.

And yet, nothing. No answer. No guidance. No timeline. No explanation.

Just silence.

Silence despite all the work I was putting in.

Becasue, despite the fact that I felt I had no choice, I was still making some. I was still choosing to read my scriptures. Still choosing to listen to talks, serve in my callings, go to church, take the sacrament, fast, pray, go to the temple, and seek guidance from others. I was choosing to do all of the things I'd been told since I was little would help me in moments like these, and I wasn't seeing any results.

I wasn't seeing Him anywhere.

Until, about a week ago.

I'm not really sure what the change was. There wasn't this big, grandiose moment. The Heavens didn't part, my ears didn't hear the voice of angels, enlightenment was not bestowed upon me in a flash of light. Slowly but surely, clarity came, and I have no doubt in my mind it came because of those choices I'd made that seemed to be doing nothing.

Because, I had another choice. I could choose to see Him.

For most of the last 365 days, I had been choosing not to see Him. I had been blaming Him, arguing with Him, bartering with Him, and then growing more and more angry with Him when He didn't show up in the way that I wanted. In the way I expected. In the way I felt I deserved.

So, I determined He might not really be there.

But I was wrong. Because He was, He always was.

He was there when three of my favorite women in the entire world spontaneously took me to lunch, healing my soul in ways they will never, never know.

He was there in the books that distracted my mind, captured my heart, and planted the seeds in my soul for the next stories I felt called to pursue.

He was there in the strengthening power, the one that gave me the ability to read one more verse, utter one more prayer, and try one more time.

He was there in each and every laugh of a Primary Child, hug from a Primary Child, gift from a Primary Child, and action of love from a Primary Child.

He was there each and every time my mother listened to me lament about the same problem over, and over, and over again.

He was there each and every time I felt bittlerly alone.

He was there in the joy that came after I finished crafting another novel, the one He and He alone helped me to get through.

He has been there through this entire trial. He loved me enough to endure it with me, because He knew how much it would change me. And change me it has.

Finally, I can see the light at the end of my tunnel.

He is that light. It has been there the whole time. I just spent too much of it staring at the rocks and darkness and walls around me, believeing they were trapping me in. When, in reality, they were leading me to Him.

And I am so grateful for it.

Do I wish I had taken more opportunities to see Him throughout it all? Of course. But I can't go back and change that. I can only change what is to come. What my life will look like from here on out.

And hopefully, I've taught someone else that they always have a choice. It's a hard, hard choice to make sometimes. And sometimes we don't make it, and that's ok, too. Either way, He is there, waiting for us to choose to see Him.

"The decision to believe is the most important choice we ever make." - L. Whitney Clayton, "Choose to Believe", April 2015 General Conference