A little over a year after my son was born, I suffered severe post-partum depression. I struggled with intense social anxieties as I tried to fulfill my duties as a mother, a wife, a position on the school PTA board, and I had also taken on the responsibility of caring for my seven-year- old nephew who had come to live with us.
Adding to all of the chaos, I had other health issues, and my one-year- old son had chronic ear infections one after another. I had a calling as Young Women Secretary, but my bishop felt that due to my many challenges, both emotional and physical, that maybe another calling would be better at that time. I was soon called to be a Family History Consultant. Although the experiences I had during this time were some of the hardest, most challenging times in my life, I will forever be grateful for the lessons that strengthened my testimony of my Savior and the Atonement. Three brethren were called to head a special project for an upcoming Ward Temple Day. Brother Gray, Brother White and Brother Black (names have been changed for anonymity) were called to help myself, a newly set apart Family History Consultant, and a group of others with the same calling, to teach members of our ward how to use the new familysearch.org program. Essentially the goal was to find enough names to endow the equivalent of another ward on our upcoming Ward Temple Day. To say that I struggled in my calling would be a gross understatement. I did not know the first thing about family history, nor did I know how to use the online program, and I definitely did not feel confident in trying to teach it to someone else. My son’s constant illness often kept me from attending church, and even on the Sundays he was well, I had very little desire to go because I knew I would be overcome with anxiety and guilt for not doing all that was expected of me. Although we were supposed to be working together as a group, I felt like an outsider who wasn’t doing my share of the work. I purposely chose only close friends in the ward to ask if I could teach them the new program each week. Many times conflicts arose, and there were several weeks where I was unable to teach anyone. As months passed, I still had not had much success. Brother White called me one evening, and asked about my progress. I told him of my struggles and that I was doing my best, but I still felt guilty. He encouraged me to keep trying, and asked if I would please send an email to Brother Black, so that he would have record of what I had done. After the phone conversation, I felt good. I felt that although I struggled, I was doing my best, so I quickly wrote up an email and sent it to Brother Black. The next day, I received an email address to me, from Brother Black. I noticed that it had been copied to both Brother White and Brother Gray. As I read the email, my heart sank and my jaw dropped. I was stunned, hurt and ashamed. I walked into my husband and without saying much, asked him to read the email for himself. I wanted to make sure that I was not overreacting to what had been written. My husband was shocked as well. Brother Gray had basically told me that my efforts were not good enough, and that if I could not do my calling, that they would need to find someone who could and that I should be ashamed of the lack of progress that I had made. I felt as if every self-doubt I had, every weakness, every one of my failures, were not only confirmed, but were written in black and white, and also shared with two other men. I was mortified. Before this incident, I prided myself in always choosing not to take offense. However, this – this was inexcusable! I was offended and I was furious! I quickly said a prayer and sat and clicked “respond to all”. My fingers could not move fast enough as I typed frantically, a very long-winded and very unkind response of “how dare you?” Several paragraphs later, I stopped. I knew this wasn’t the response I should send. I highlighted it all, then pressed delete. I said another prayer and began again. This time, I wrote the complete opposite. I typed how I would do better, that I knew my progress had not been good enough. I gushed about all the things I would correct; I would get more people in to the family history center, I would go to their homes during the week, I would do more, I would be better. Once again, the spirit prompted me to stop. This wasn’t the right response either. I highlighted once again and pressed delete. I said one more prayer and begged to know how I should respond. A peaceful calm washed over me as I pressed, “Respond to all” and typed, “I’m sorry that you don’t feel that my progress is sufficient, however it is the best that I can do at this time. If my progress is not good enough, that is not my problem. I feel that Heavenly Father is pleased with what I have done.” Then, I pressed send. I knew Sunday would be extremely awkward so I called a close friend and begged her to come in the FHC with me. Saturday night I received an email from Brother Gray addressed to all the consultants asking us to cancel all appointments for a special meeting. I arrived to church, nervous, anxious, and very emotional. I sat down in the pew with my family and opened the Sacrament Program to distract me from my own thoughts and emotions. There inside was an insert that read, “Special Ward Temple Day” with the date and upcoming information. It then read, “If you need help finding your ancestors names, please contact one of the following Family History Consultants” and then proceeded to list all of their names and phone numbers of everyone in the group, except mine. My heart sank, again. I wanted to believe it was just a mistake but I could only see it as proof of my failure. It was just another thing that caused me to feel excluded. During the history consultant meeting, I was determined to keep my emotions in check. I strategically sat in a chair where I would not have to make eye contact with any of the men, who, in my mind, knew all my faults. I had no idea what would be said, but I assumed it would have something to do with my need to repent and do better. After the opening prayer, Brother Gray stood at the head of the table, opened his scriptures and read Mosiah 4:27, “And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.” He then proceeded to ask questions about all the roadblocks we were all encountering. I was even able to give my input about my needing training with the program, without breaking out in tears. That is until he turned to me and said, “So Sister, do you feel better now, about your progress, than you did before this meeting?” and then the tears flowed. I knew he had read the emails. And I knew he had used the spirit to comfort my doubts. Over the next several weeks, although I knew I had done my best, I was still extremely hurt and angry with Brother Black. I could not hear his name or be in a room with him without feel immense anger. I prayed often to be able to forgive him, but didn’t know how to forgive someone who never asked for forgiveness. The anger and hate was eating away at me and it was painful. I prayed for answers, but none readily came. Sunday came, and once again I stayed home with my sick son. When my husband returned home, he told me that Brother White had asked how I was doing and if I was still hurt and offended? My husband had told him that I was fine. I was not fine, and I wanted Brother White to know that I was NOT FINE! I sent Brother White an email and told him that I was still very offended and that I didn’t know how to forgive someone who was not seeking forgiveness. All that week, I waited for a reply but it never came. The following Sunday, all three church blocks went by without incident and I wondered if Brother White had even received my email. As I stood in the foyer after church, waiting for my family, Brother White approached me. He stood before me and said that he was sorry that I felt so hurt. He said, “On behalf of Brother Black, please forgive me. I don’t think he even knows that he offended you, but please will you forgive me.” Standing before me was an innocent man, who had done nothing to offend me. He was taking the responsibility for someone else’s actions, and asking me to forgive him. There was nothing he had done to require my forgiveness, yet here he was asking for it anyway. When all of a sudden, I did not see Brother White before me, but my Savior, Jesus Christ. Christ was an innocent and perfect man, who suffered not only for my sins, but also for my weaknesses and misdeeds, the mistakes we make, and the mistakes others make against us. He only asks that we follow His example and forgive others. In an instant, the Atonement had all new meaning. Christ loved me so perfectly that he suffered, bled and died for me, but also for Brother Black. I knew then, that forgiveness was the only way of more fully accepting the Atonement in my life. My hurt and pain were immediately washed away. I don’t know if Brother White ever knew of the deep and lasting impact he had on my testimony of the Atonement that day, or if he ever will. But I am grateful for a man, who taught me such a valuable lesson. I am even more grateful for my Savior, who although my many faults, saw fit to send an earthly angel and the Holy Ghost to deliver such a message to me. I know that the Savior lives. I know that He loves me, with all of my imperfections. The Atonement doesn’t just give us each the opportunity to repent of our sins, it also washes clean all of our pains, our sorrows, our weaknesses, as well as other’s who might offend us, as long as we let it. - Anonymous |
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