Monday, December 24, 2012

Angels to Watch Over Them

As a Christmas gift to Ted and Jean, Melinda is compiling stories from family members detailing tender mercies in their lives.  As I wrote this for her, I thought that a copy should make its way onto the blog:




Angels to Watch Over Them

“And as they looked to behold they cast their eyes towards heaven, and they saw the heavens open, and they saw angels descending out of heaven as it were in the midst of fire; and they came down and encircled those little ones about, and they were encircled about with fire; and the angels did minister unto them.” – 3 Nephi 17:24

I have absolutely no doubt that our Heavenly Father loves our little ones.  His little ones.  Some of the most tender mercies I have witnessed have surrounded my children.  I often say I have no idea how people manage to raise children without the gospel and the whisperings of the Holy Ghost.  I can recall more than one occasion when my children’s very lives have been preserved by the grace of God. 

Tori was only a week old when she began making a sharp wheezing sound as she breathed in.  It would come and go, but as a new mother, one with little to no experience with babies, it was terrifying.  On three separate occasions, I took her in to our pediatrician.  I explained that she had episodes of wheezing and that she was retracting as she tried to inhale.  The doctor looked at Tori, breathing just fine in my arms, and gave me a knowing smile.  “This is your first baby, right?”  And with that, I was dismissed as an overly concerned new mom and sent on my way.  Each time I brought her in, his condescension thickened.  I hadn’t even made it home after the third appointment when Tori started wheezing in her car seat.  I burst into tears.  I reached home and for the first time as a parent, I fell to my knees for my child.  I told Heavenly Father that I knew something was not right, told Him how scared I was and how helpless I felt, and begged him to show me what to do.  I had not even risen to my feet when the phone rang.  It was Heidi calling, who had heard from Mom that Tori was sick and that I was taking her to Dr. Jones.  She told me this was the same doctor who had diagnosed Heidi with “paranoid new mom syndrome” when Mason was a baby and missed the hole in his heart that landed him in emergency surgery.  She urged me to get a second opinion.  When I did, we found out that Tori had pneumonia and were able to receive the care she needed.

When Tori was two and a half, we experienced our second miracle that preserved her life.  We had just moved to Florida and were enjoying a ward activity on the beach.  Tori was playing in the sand at the water’s edge, splashing and exploring with sheer toddler glee.  The tide was strange that day, making the water knee deep for the first 30 yards or so.  She was wearing a swimsuit with a built-in flotation device, and seemed content to look for shells in the sand.  I got caught up in conversation and was talking to a sister in the ward when I heard a voice prompt urgently, “turn around right now!”  I was surprised, since I usually do not receive revelation in such an obvious manner.  I spun around and saw Tori, all the way out where the water began to get deep.  With each wave, water was crashing over her head and she was gasping for air.  I began running, but getting through the water felt agonizingly slow.  When I was still about twenty feet from reaching her, I watched helplessly as she went completely under.  I could see her eyes wide with terror, her mouth opening and closing in a desperate attempt to find air.  I fought my way madly across the remaining distance, snatched her out of the water and pounded her back as she coughed up mouthfuls of ocean.  Exhausted, she immediately fell asleep on my shoulder.  I carried her back to shore, sobbing and not willing to let anyone take her from my arms for a long time.  As she slept, all I could do was pray a prayer of gratitude repeatedly as I shook with the knowledge that I would have lost her had I not received that prompting.

Tori is not my only child to be saved by the tender mercies of the Lord.  I was with the kids and Mom and Dad at Yellowstone when we stopped at Artist Point.  The cliffs surrounding the waterfall are beautifully sheer and rugged.  Dangerously so.  The bars of the safety rails are spread far apart…not much of a deterrent for a three-year-old.  I was holding Aaron’s hand tightly, trying to take a picture of the beautiful falls with my free hand.  I let go of his hand for just a moment to adjust a setting on my camera, and he bolted.  I looked up in horror to see that he had already darted under the fence and was less than two feet away from a sheer drop off.  In between him and the ledge, a large root protruded from the ground.  One wrong step and he would trip and go over the edge.  I knelt calmly next to the railing and smiled at him, quietly asking him to come hold my outstretched hand.  Expecting more of a chase, he seemed to deflate, and came right over to me.  As soon as his hand was in mine, I began to shake.  As I held him tightly, I realized what a miraculous blessing it had been that I had stayed calm.  I’m not a naturally “calm” person, and to remain so in that situation was truly divine intervention.  I have no doubt that had I screamed or yelled he would have thought that it was a game and turned and ran – right off that cliff.  That night as I prayed, the only thing I could say was, “Thank-you” over and over again.  I was too shaken to form any other words.

My children are true miracles and blessings in my life.  It scares me at times, the immense love I feel for them.  I know, however, that as much as I love them, my Heavenly Father loves them infinitely more.  He is with me in this journey of raising and teaching them, and makes up for my shortcomings as a mother on a daily basis.  I am thankful for all of His mercies in helping them to become incredible children in spite of my weaknesses and especially for preserving their safety and even their lives on multiple occasions.

No comments: