With Hope, The Odds Don't Matter

This is the theme of Heather Von St. James’s story.  Three months after giving birth to her first child, Lily, Heather was given 15 months to live.  

Heather was diagnosed with Pleural Mesothelioma, a rare type of cancer that appears in the layer of cells lining the lungs.  Imagine the fear that must have engulfed her when the doctor told her and her husband that the chances of her surviving were rare.  Usually people diagnosed with Mesothelioma only live 15 more months.  

The Lord did not forget her.  He led her to a renowned Mesothelioma surgeon, Dr. David Sugarbaker.  With encouragement from her husband and hope in her heart, Heather survived cancer.  Seven years later she has made it her mission to help others find hope and beat the odds just as she did. 

I love what Ether, a Book of Mormon prophet, teaches about hope, “Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world . . . which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast . . .” (Ether 12:4).

After seeing, hearing and pondering unimaginable situations people go through, I believe it is hope that gets them through it.  Heathers husband said the way he kept her hope up during sugary and treatment was by continually telling her that Lily needed her mother.  Heather hung on.  Today Lily has her mother. (You can find Heather's full story at mesothelioma.com/heather). 

Some people give up when told they don’t have long to live.  Sometimes when rough times hit, whatever it may be we have to have that strand of hope that everything will be okay.  We have to hang on to that strand with both hands. 

When I think of beating the odds I think of Harrison, my little brother.  When he was thirteen years old he was diagnosed with Osteochondritis dissecans.   Blood ceased to flow to the bottom of his femur bone, which essentially caused it die.  There was a risk that the dead part of bone could break off.  Dr. Higgs explained to Harrison if this happened he would need to have surgery.  In order to prevent sugary and allow the bone to heal on its own, Harrison would need to stay off it for two years.  The only exercise he could do was walking, swimming and riding a bike.  At the time he was diagnosed his tap class was two weeks away from going to competition, and he had just started track for middle school.  He had to withdraw from both of these activities. 

I can imagine most thirteen year old boys after being told they can’t play basketball, they can’t go skiing, they can’t play football, and they can’t even run would be devastated and feel sorry for themselves.  Harrison beat the odds. 

In the two years he couldn’t do any activity he only cried two times.  Once when he saw his friends playing basketball, sad that he wasn’t invited.  They thought since he couldn’t play he wouldn’t want to be there.  They didn’t realize he would have been happy to sit and watch.  (That was all cleared up though).  The second time he cried was at his year appointment when Dr. Higgs told him and my mom that the disease was still there and he would have to continue to refrain from physical activity.  He only cried because my mom started crying.

In the two years he couldn’t run, jump, play basketball, or dance, Harrison became an excellent speed walker, he learned to jump on the trampoline with one leg, and even learned how to run/hop so he could play soccer with his little brothers.  He had hope if he followed Dr. Higgs’s instructions he would be healed, and he was.  I came home from college one summer, and with glee in his voice Harrison said, “Watch this Amanda!” he then proceeded to run across the yard with both legs. 

New prospects were opened up to him because of his experience with Osteochondritis dissecans. As of now he wants to become an orthopedic doctor (bone doctor).

Several years after finding out he had Osteochondritis dissecans, Harrison is back on the field, this time playing Lacrosse

Nobody plans out trials in their life.  Hope must therefore be ever present in our souls.  Some have hope they will make it through a trial, and everything will turn out the way they wanted it to.  When it doesn’t turn out as planned this doesn’t mean they never had hope, or they didn’t have enough faith.  God had different plans.  In cases like these our hope must change.  It must be centered on what the Lord wants.  If we let our trials shape us, we can become stronger, and we can beat the odds. 

A dear friend of mine, and former roommate, was diagnosed with type one diabetes when she was about fourteen years old.  She told me one evening of her experience (and forgive me if I get some of the facts wrong).

She was initially shocked, scared, and sad when she found out she had diabetes.  Imagine being fourteen years old and finding out you had a disease that was incurable and that may eventually kill you.  My friend recalled that as she was laying in the hospital bed the first night after she was diagnosed she thought to herself that she could either have a negative outlook on her situation or a positive one.  She knew she would never be cured.  Having children in the future may be difficult, and she may die from diabetes one day.  She had a knowledge of God, and He had given her this challenge for a reason.  She decided to face her situation with a positive outlook. 

I never once saw her complain about being diabetic.  In fact if she hadn’t told me she was diabetic I would never have guessed.  I witnessed her stay close to the Lord, take care of her body (she finished a ½ marathon one summer, something I don’t think I could ever accomplish), and always strive to help others even when things in her life weren’t perfect.  She has the hope and knowledge that God loves her and knows her.  He wouldn’t put her through any challenge that she couldn’t handle without His help.  Today she is married and the mother of a healthy baby girl. 

Hope is a very powerful thing.  Hope is what got Heather through her cancer treatment and surgery.  All the odds were against her, yet she hung on.  She was a mother and her little girl needed her.  Among other things she hung onto that truth, which enabled her to fight and win her battle against Mesothelioma.  My friend and my brother hung onto the hope of optimism to get them through their trials.  Each day my friend must continue to hang onto that hope, continue to push forward and to never give up. 

Ultimately hope in Christ gives us a “sure foundation" and that is what I am so thankful for in my life. 

God's Red Pen

In her farewell talk two months ago, my sister Saydi (now Hermana Ostler) said,

“[T]he beautiful thing about writing an essay is that you are never done. . . . True, some essays are better than others, because everyone is at a different stage of writing.  Some are still developing a thesis, some are working on finding supporting details, and others are perfecting their grammar, [but there is always something] to improve on.  Even if [it has] all the elements of a good essay, [it] can still [be] stronger.  

“Likewise, in our essays of conversion, we can always improve.  We are all at different stages, but we can all be better. So you write your essay, you get a testimony, then you get experiences, overcome trials, throw in some transitions, and add a beautiful conclusion. . . . Then you take your essay to the ultimate editor, the perfect tutor: God.  You give him your essay and say, “Look, I did it.  I got a thesis, I got my topic sentences, and transitions.  It’s all there.  I did everything you asked.  It’s done.  Now if you could just read it over, maybe check the grammar, and the commas.”  You hand Him your paper, and He takes out His red pen.  He starts marking things, crossing out sentences, circling others, writing comments in the margins. . . . Then He hands you back your paper and it is covered in red marks.  Your hearts drops, and you look at him with a question in your eyes . . . “Why?”  Then He says, “This essay is good.  But I know you can do better.” …

 “Often times we don’t understand why we must rewrite, but we do, and our essay is strengthened.  Paragraph by paragraph we improve.  Through all the hardships of life we are strengthened, and we draw closer to the Lord.” 

(Click here to read Hermana Ostler’s complete talk).

When I got home from my mission I thought my essay was pretty good.  I had become more patient, my faith had grown, and I was ready to go out and serve the Lord in whatever capacity He needed me.  I never realized how many red marks the Lord would use to mark up my paper.

While Chris and I were engaged I was blessed to obtain a job as an orthodontic assistant in Idaho Falls and Rigby.  I received good hours and the pay was better than what most newly weds get.  Since I had had previous experience as an orthodontic assistant, working at Ostler Orthodontics in Richland, WA, I thought this job would be fairly easy. 

God took out his red pen.

I had this dream of becoming the perfect wife . . . well as perfect as I could be.  I would cook amazing home cooked meals, my house would be clean, most of the time, and I would absolutely love what I do and understand everything that my husband does, because lets face it, I grew up with five boys and was constantly associating (appropriately) with elders on my mission.

God took out his red pen.

My first day in my new married ward.

God took out his red pen.

Things God wants me to improve on:

Patience

Diligence

Faith

I quickly learned my current employer expects different things of me than Dr. Ostler did.  He does things completely different than what I was used to.  For one, the schedule is unpredictable.  Before, I had a pretty good idea of what patients I would see.  I could therefore mentally prepare for the harder appointments. I no longer have that luxury.  We grab the next patient who shows up, which means I literally have seconds to mentally prepare for the longer, harder appointments.  I have learned that I usually need fair warning before I get one of those.  Secondly, my two different employers emphasized different things.  Learning what my new employer wanted was especially hard.  There are other things that has made me want to give up and quit.  At times it felt as if work was too much to handle. I would get frustrated when I couldn’t get a procedure down, or continually forget to do something. It was when I was making the half hour drive home from one particularly hard day of work that I realized the Lord is teaching me to be patient with myself in learning new procedures, and being patient with people who can be difficult to work with at times.  I knew that He expected me to be diligent in learning everything I needed to learn even if I thought there was a better way of doing things.  Ever since this time, work has been easier.  The stress of work has not gone away, but I now know what the Lord wants me to do. 

I normally get home around 6 p.m.  That’s when most people have dinner.  That’s when I start cooking it.  As a new wife I wanted to make sure Chris always had enough to eat, which is sometimes hard to do, and that he actually liked it, which isn’t hard to do.  Keeping a clean house where the Spirit can reside isn’t the easiest thing when I’m only home for 4 hours out of the day, and 2 of those hours consist of cooking and eating.  There was still the cleaning up to do, the visiting teaching to do, the writing in the journal, the scripture study, the temple attendance, the visiting with old friends, the making of new ones, and the spending quality time with my husband to do.  By the end of the day I was exhausted.

I quickly became overwhelmed with my responsibilities as a homemaker and a breadwinner.  A few breakdowns later, and some counsel with Chris and the Lord, I am coming to realize that the Lord wants me to trust in Him.  He does not expect me to be the perfect homemaker, especially when I have a full-time job.  He does expect me to do the best I can in my duties.  Since this realization, my stress level of feeding Chris has gone done because I usually have plenty of time to cook something for him, with his help of course.  The messy house doesn’t bother me as much, especially when there is no time to clean it, and I have found that more often then not the house stays pretty clean, thanks to Chris always helping me with the dishes.  Time to visit teach, to fulfill my calling, to visit with friends, and to even start a few crafty projects has appeared out of no where.  Through all of this the Lord still wants me to trust in Him, and to rely on Him for the strength and energy I need.

My entire Rexburg life (nine semesters, fourteen-weeks long) I have attended singles wards.  Being thrust into a young married ward threw me upside down on my already corkscrewed rollercoaster.  I was sitting next to married couples in Sacrament Meeting who were in the same boat as I was!  And my boat wasn't very sturdy at times.  After the first day of church I had so many thoughts chasing each other around in my head: How was I supposed to act around them?  What were our conversations supposed to be like?  What about the activities we do?   I was clueless when it came to constantly associating with married couples.  Then the bishop called Chris and I into his office and told me that the Relief Society President wanted me to be her 1^st Counselor.  After I accepted the calling I thought, “I’m in an environment that is new to me.  I don’t know how to talk to other married women, and I don’t know what they could possibly be struggling with.  Now you want me to be part of the leadership of these women?”  As I stood to be sustained the next Sunday I was terrified that I wouldn’t know how to fulfill my calling. 

My fear was realized in my first couple of presidency meetings. I sat, listening to the president and 2^nd counselor talk about different girls in the ward and how we could help them.  I didn’t know any of the girls.  I sometimes felt like a worthless piece of rock on a seashore.  I didn’t know which girls would be good at fulfilling different callings, and I had no idea, which girls needed help or even how to help them. Overtime I did realize that what the Lord wanted me to do was to be diligent.  I tried my best to learn the girl’s names (I’m still learning) and willingly visited different girls to see how they were doing.  In the end I did what I was asked to do.

My diligence paid off.

Our Relief Society president moved, and a new one was called.  She kept me in as her 1^st counselor.  When I stood up in church to be sustained I felt more confident than I did three months before.  I now knew most of the girls and what they needed.  I knew that this semester I could better help the girls I serve.

President Uchtdorf stated, “Often the most difficult times of our lives are essential building blocks that form the foundation of our character and pave the way to future opportunity, understanding, and happiness.”

I am learning that no matter what stage of life I’m in, God will always take out his red pen and mark up my essay. 

Loaves and Fishes

Sunday afternoon.  The kitchen was an inferno with two burners going, and no AC.  I was stirring the rue while Vanessa picked up the bowl of Mama Rolls to wipe the counter beneath it.  As I poured the rue into the veggie mix I hoped that this would be enough to feed eight people.   We would need a miracle. 

That day at church we had a spiritual lesson in Relief Society on being a missionary at a Mormon college.  My mind reflected to my own mission, and how much I missed it.  Goosebumps covered my arms the entire hour of sacrament meeting as talks were given and songs were sung on the Restoration.  There was hardly a dry eye in the congregation after the closing prayer.

As me and my roommates drove home, we saw two boys walking ahead of us.  When I recognized one of them as a friend from the ward, a thought slipped into my mind, “You should invite him over for dinner.”  I was making clam chowder at the request of my roommate, Andrea, and her fiancé.

“You know, I think I’m going to invite him over for dinner,” I said to my roommates.

I did NOT just say that! I thought. I had already contemplated inviting people over for dinner that morning, but no one I thought of felt right, not even this particular friend.  So why have that thought now?

As I walked into my room I couldn’t shake that feeling.  I had had enough experience in the sticks of Chicago to recognize when a thought wasn’t my own.  

I picked up my phone.  “Hey,” I said, I could feel sweat forming between my cheek and phone, “so I had this feeling to call you and invite you . . . and your roommates over for dinner.” 

Roommates?  Where did that come from?  I’m not going to have enough food!

“Yeah!  That would be great!  I’ll ask them.”

He said that at least two of them would come. 

I went out to the kitchen and told one of my roommates, Vanessa, what I had done. 

“Uh…are you going to have enough food for them?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, adding water to the chopped veggies. 

The smell of cooking clams and veggies filled the apartment when my friend called me back.  “Hey Amanda, so my roommates can’t come,”

Well at least we’ll have enough to eat! I thought as my white spoon made swirls in the rue.

“But I’m really glad you called, because there are these boys from the ward that I have been wanting to get to know, and they said that they could come.  I’m not sure you’d know them; they don’t come very often.  There’s two of them, maybe three.”

 My hands felt slick from the steam emanating from the rue.  It seemed to fill the whole apartment.  “Ok,” I said slowly.  Four extra people?  That’s more than he had said originally.  I was trying to do calculations in my head.  There was no way this pot of clam chowder was going to feed nine people!  Five of whom were boys! 

 “I don’t have to eat a lot,” he said, sensing my worry.

“Oh no, I think we’ll be fine,” I tried to reassure him, the swirls in the rue becoming less beautiful.  I hope.

After I hung up I looked at Vanessa who was already cutting up extra veggies. 

 “It’s going to be like the Loaves and Fishes!” she said. 

“If Christ preformed that miracle 2,000 years ago, He can preform one today!” I agreed.  She scraped the last of the veggies into the pot.

Vanessa and I put our faith to the test.

God provided when Christ was presented with seven loaves of bread, and two fishes with the task of feeding 5,000 people.  We had faith that He would help us feed these boys. 

“They’re boys!” Vanessa and I stared at the pot of finished chowder.  I had asked if she thought this would be enough.  “There’s five of them!  My three brothers could easily eat this… times two.” 

“Loaves and Fishes!” I said, tasting the chowder.

Our bowls and cups were mismatched, and the chairs stood at awkward angles as we tried to cram them around the table.

The final count of dinner guests was eight total.

While eating we talked about our missions, snowboarding, and boating.  The two unexpected guests were reserved at first, but quickly warmed up to our enthusiastic company.  One of the boy’s faces lit up when he remembered a miracle from his mission.  His convert had recently been sealed in the temple.  We could tell that this dinner party was a step in the right direction for them.  By small and simples things are great things brought to pass.

Vanessa and I were the last ones to fish out our clam chowder.  It was way more than half way gone.  I bit my lip, and I knew Vanessa was thinking the same thing: Boys like seconds. 

Our portions were small. 

The dinner conversation was full, but what about their stomachs? 

When they left Vanessa and I went over to the pot of clam chowder.  Did they have to scrape the bottom of the pot to get enough to eat?

The kitchen had cooled off a bit as I took hold of the ladle.  “Oh my gosh!” I said, scooping out a full ladle of chowder.  “Look how much is left!  And check out the rolls!”  I picked up the “back-up” pan of rolls.  “We didn’t even have to use these!”  We lifted the towel from the bowl of rolls.  “There’s like a third of the rolls left!” 

“Loaves and Fishes!” Vanessa said. 

“And they did all eat, and were filled: and they took up of the fragments that remained twelve baskets full.” Matt 14:20

My friend was so thankful that I had called him and asked him over for dinner, not for him, but for the two boys.

When the Lord tells you to do something, He will always provide a way to accomplish that task, as He did Sunday night when He provided extra Mama Rolls (loaves) and clam chowder (fishes) for those who were hungry physically and spiritually.