Sometimes the Lord takes us Kicking and Screaming to our Blessings

My daughter, Emma, began college three years ago at Kutztown University near Philadelphia.  Her roommate was a best friend since the fifth grade.  That first year, they had a small cinderblock room on the third floor of a very antiquated dormitory--sharing showers and restrooms with about twenty other girls. 

 

I’ve always been a nervous mother; always worrying about my children when they were out of sight.  My daughter was the only child to go away to school.  I worried about her constantly those first few months.  But eventually, I learned to love the school and felt the dormitory life was safe.  Emma lived there for three years—it had become home away from home.  During that time, she had picked up a third roommate who had become another very close friend.

 

 

During her junior year of college, the girls learned that Kutztown would be changing on-campus living arrangements the following school year.  All the original dorms (including the one she had been living in) were to be freshman only dorms. Only the most expensive apartment-style dorms would be available for upper classman to rent.  This left my daughter and her roommates with the task of finding off-campus housing for their senior year. 

After searching  for a few weeks, they found housing:  a fully furnished student only apartment complex called Sacony Commons--not too far from campus. Each apartment had three bedrooms, a huge bathroom, living room and kitchen, central air, and washer & dryer.  It was very modern with painted walls, new furniture, new kitchen cabinets, etc.  The price was similar to the dorm they had been living in.  It seemed perfect. We paid our deposit and signed leases in January--eight months before they would even need it.

When summer break came around, my daughter was more excited than ever about having her very own apartment with her two best friends come September.  However, I was concerned.  I kept thinking about how she would have to park in a dark lot at night to enter the building (the building was in a secluded area) and make her way through hallways and stairwells to reach her apartment.

Money was also an issue.  I no longer worked full time and I was not sure there would be enough to get her through that final year.  Things just seemed unsettling to me.  I began praying to my Heavenly Father about the whole situation—explaining my concerns about finances and safety.  As the upcoming school year grew closer, I prayed and fasted for HIS help.

Three weeks before school began, a catastrophe happened.  My daughter and her roommates (along with all the other students who had made the same arrangements) were sent an email explaining all housing contracts were cancelled—they no longer had housing at Sacony Commons—they no longer had housing anywhere!

We freaked out: we cried, we yelled, we worried--we were absolutely sick!  We immediately began calling the office at the apartment complex but no one would answer to give us any information as to what had happened.  We checked with the college, but all they knew was that all the housing contracts with that unit had indeed been cancelled—they didn’t understand why—but hundreds of students were now scrambling for housing for a school year that would begin in just three weeks.

My daughter couldn’t eat, she couldn’t sleep, and she cried a lot.  She had an extremely busy school year coming up—18 credits worth of classes and she was president of the girl’s rugby team with tons of practice and meetings.  The only solution the college offered was to put my daughter with a stranger in a very expensive dorm.  All her dreams of having a place with her two best friends—the two girls she had shared the past three years of college life with—down the drain.  She begged me to help her find a better solution. 

 

I turned to the Lord in prayer.  Oddly, I felt calm and peaceful--sure that everything would work out—not to worry.  I had this overwhelming feeling that what was occurring was actually an answer to my earlier prayers about finances and safety.  But how could that be--there wasn’t available housing anywhere.

My daughter and her roommates drove to Kutztown a few days later determined to find something.  Right behind the school was another off campus housing unit for students called The Cliffs.  The Cliffs were old 1970’s style townhouses.  Normally, they had tons of vacancies available each school year, but, because the college had changed the less expensive dorms to freshman only—they had filled up even before the Sacony Commons crisis.  My daughter had called them the minute we received the infamous email, but the office would be closed for several days due to vacation—we left tons of messages. 

When they arrived in Kutztown, they immediately went to The Cliffs.  The lady in the office was kind and understanding, but, she sadly informed them that they were filled and already had a long waiting list for cancellations.  My daughter put their name on the list anyways and the three of them left to seek other options. 

A male student they knew from their old dorm had called and asked if he could also room with them.  He had lost his housing at Sacony Commons as well, and his roommate (and good friend) had dropped him like a hot potato as soon as he found his own housing with others; this young man had nowhere to go.  As a matter of fact, a lot of friendships ended over the housing crises as students abandoned each other.  My daughter and her friends were determined to stay together, and being the compassionate girls they are, they were even more determined to find a place for the four of them--an impossible task.

After many hours of searching, they sent me a text and told me they had found an old farmhouse out in the country about a 20 minute drive to school.  I asked for a picture.  When the picture arrived on my phone, I knew it was not the right place—there was no way my daughter was going to live way out in the country, far away from everyone, in an old dilapidated building--but this was all that was available.

 I immediately got down on my knees and begged my Father in Heaven to help my daughter and her friends—there were only two weeks left till school began. 

Disappointed they started for home. On their way, my daughter received a call from the lady in the office at The Cliffs—she explained that they just had a cancellation and she was willing to give it to the girls (moving them to the top of the list).  She also stated that this particular unit had FOUR bedrooms.

Yesterday my daughter Emma, along with her two best friends, and a sweet young man, all moved in to their 70’s style Townhouse.  The rent is $1400 cheaper than Sacony Commons.  They park right in front of their own door with just a few steps till they are safely inside, they are surrounded by other students--no seclusion.  It is closer to the campus than Sacony Commons, so no need to buy a parking pass—she can walk to classes just as she always had in the past.  They each have their own furnished bedroom, TWO bathrooms, fully furnished kitchen and living room, and—Emma’s favorite--central air.  The townhouse is older with dark paneled walls, but it’s  adorable and has character.

Without my even realizing it, the Lord was answering my prayers for help with finances and safety just as I had asked Him. The whole experience was a reminder, that sometimes when we think all is lost and hopeless, well, that is when the Lord is actually taking us kicking and screaming to our blessings.

 

© August 27, 2012

(Matthew 17:21)

To learn more about the power of fasting:
https://www.lds.org/ensign/2009/04/fasting-with-power?lang=eng

 

 

 

 

 

The Miracle

The year my daughter Emma entered high school, she decided to join the popular South Western Marching Band.  She made this decision for two reasons.  The first:  friends she had since the fifth grade would also be in the marching band.  The kind of friends you do everything with--sleepovers, share your hopes and dreams, hang out with outside of school, etc..  The second: the marching band took elaborate, exciting trips each year.  Trips that would make a lifetime of wonderful memories shared with best friends.

That first year, the trip would turn out to be the most exciting of all the trips she experienced in high school.  The band was going to ride to Florida on a bus, take a three day cruise to the Bahamas, and spend two full days at Universal Studios.

 The excitement and preparation for a trip that wouldn’t happen till spring began at the beginning of the school year.  The girls had their cabin mates all lined up by October and anxiously awaited April.  I scrimped and saved every penny to make the payments for such an expensive trip—knowing that to miss out on such an event (when all her friends were going) would have been detrimental to a fourteen year old girl. 

Something else happened the beginning of that school year--Emma kept getting sick.  She would have these bouts of painful nausea that would last for several days and then she'd be fine again.  As spring approached, the flu-like symptoms increased.  We made several trips to the doctors and kept getting a diagnosis of "acid reflux".  However, my gut kept telling me the diagnosis was wrong.

Week after week, I watched Emma suffer from the strange illness.  Often times, I had to run and pick her up in the middle of the night at a sleepover because she became sick again.  Each time, we would return to the doctor, hear the same diagnosis, and try a new medicine.

The Friday before Emma was to leave for her marching band trip (the following Thursday) she became very ill.  The pain was excruciating; she was doubled over the entire weekend and couldn’t get out of bed.  I kept calling the doctor’s office asking if I should take her to the hospital.  They told me I’d be wasting my time—it would pass just as it had before, “just increase the meds” the doctor insisted. 

I decided to call the priesthood from my church and have them give my daughter a blessing.  Priesthood blessings for the sick are common in my religious beliefs.

The missionaries from my church came over, lay their hands upon my daughter’s slumped over head, and blessed her that she would seek the proper medical attention needed, AND, that she would indeed go on her school trip the following Thursday.  This was Saturday night.  The possibility that Emma would be well enough to board a twenty hour bus trip in a few days, well, that seemed impossible.

The following morning (Sunday—4 days left till the trip) I took Emma to the ER—tired of listening to the doctors and knowing in my gut that they were wrong.  It only took five minutes after a blood test for the ER doctor to return and explain that Emma had pancreatitis—a life threatening illness. She had to have surgery NOW. 

I saw the look on Emma’s face right away.  I knew exactly what she was thinking:  “but mom, I’m leaving in four days for the trip of a lifetime, a trip that we worked all year to go on, please fix this!  I can’t miss it!”  It was as if we were communicating telepathically.  I anxiously explained to the doctor our situation—hoping he’d give us meds and let us wait till she returned for the surgery—but he was adamant, the surgery could not wait.

Emma was moved to a private room where we awaited the arrival of the surgeon—Dr. Horn—who was going to schedule the procedure and perform the surgery.  The nurses were all aware of the fact that Emma wanted to leave for her trip on Thursday and kept instructing me to explain to her that she would not be going.

But how could I?  How could I explain to a fourteen year old girl that she was going to miss out on a trip that was so important to her—she had waited months with anticipation; how could I explain that all her friends would be leaving in a few days and she would be left behind. 

My heart was laden with grief and so I turned to my Heavenly Father for help.  I knew He would understand how important this trip was to my daughter.  Emma had faith. She kept reminding me of the missionaries’ blessing and how they stated she would go on her trip.  But I lacked faith—I was sure that would never happen, and the nurses and doctors kept confirming it.

I prayed all day for my daughter.  I poured out my heart to the Lord, explaining how important this band trip was to Emma, how her heart would be broken if she missed out on it.  I knew that a loving Father in Heaven would understand. 

Her room was quiet most of the day—the surgeon never made it in to see us; the nurses assured me he’d be in the following morning.  I cried a lot that evening.  I would go into her bathroom, get down on my knees, and cry out to my Heavenly Father for help and comfort.  I didn’t sleep at all that night; I kneeled beside my tiny cot in her room and quietly prayed as she slept.

The surgeon did not come in till noon the following day (3 days left).  He examined Emma and informed us that he would be able to perform the surgery on Thursday (the day the bus was leaving).  He saw the look on our face and heard the sighs of anguish.  After we explained our disappointment, he seemed sympathetic to our situation; however, he went on to state emphatically that surgery any sooner than Thursday was impossible.  The hospital had a list of patients ahead of Emma who needed surgery, and, he had a long list of his own patients that were waiting to be seen at his office the next two days.  Thursday was the date. 

After he left, Emma kept insisting that she was going on the trip—she constantly reminded me of the blessing.  The nurses thought she was being silly and ridiculous to even think such a thing was possible. 

Tuesday morning arrived (2 days left) and I decided to leave the hospital for a few hours to take care of some much needed business.  I continued my prayers, but my faith was lacking.  Shortly after I left the hospital, Emma called me.  Her voice was frantic.  “Get back to the hospital Mom!”  She yelled into the other end of the phone. “They’re taking me down to surgery!”

I rushed back to the hospital in a state of confusion.  When I arrived Emma was already prepped for surgery.  Dr. Horn explained that he had cancelled all of his patient visits for that day and that the operating scheduled was moved around so they could fit Emma in.  “I can’t think of a better place to recuperate from surgery than a cruise ship,” he added with a wink.  Later, Emma told me that as the anesthesiologist was preparing her for sleep, she heard him whisper in her ear, “You’re going to the Bahamas Emma!”

Emma did go on that cruise ship.  She slept most of the twenty hours or so on the bus and rested most of the first day on the boat by the pool.  She played along with the band at every event on that trip.  One week to the day of her surgery, I proudly stood on the sidelines and watched my daughter march through Universal Studios with the South Western Marching Band.  Tears of joy streamed down my cheeks as she went by.  I knew that I was witnessing a true miracle—a tender mercy from the Lord for my daughter.

I learned a lot from that experience.  I learned to have faith when things seem impossible and when those around you keep insisting they are impossible.  I learned that my Heavenly Father understands fourteen year old girls and what is important to them.  I learned that HE knows who we are personally; he loves each of us, and wants his children to be happy.   Mostly, I learned that miracles still happen.

Emma was able to go on all the band trips through high school.  She went to Niagara Falls, Colorado, and to fun amusement parks in Ohio.  She had a great time with her best friends and made incredible memories on all of them.  However, none would be as memorable as the cruise ship she went on in the ninth grade.  After all, that one was a gift from God.

Emma marching through Universal Studios

                                 © August 3, 2012  

                                   More on Priesthood blessings: http://www.lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?autoplay=true&index=3&locale=0&sourceId=b8096fb9634a5210VgnVCM100000176f620a____&vgnextoid=bd163ca6e9aa3210VgnVCM1000003a94610aRCRD