Feeling His Love

There is a tender melody sung by primary age children that describes different ways we can feel our Savior’s love. We feel it when we look at the beautiful world around us. We feel it when we kneel to pray. We feel it as we recognize blessings. That song had drifted in and out of my mind for a week when I finally stopped and asked myself, “How do I feel my Savior’s love?” 
 

Immediately I thought of the day we received the news that Harold’s immune system was fighting back, attacking the cancer in his body.  It’s logical to feel loved when life is good and fervent prayers are answered. 

But my thoughts also turned to the days and hours before the good news. 

The time of waiting was an intense mixture of wanting/not wanting the doctor’s report.  The appointed day would never come, and then it did. We went about our morning routine with a studied nonchalance, calmly making preparations to leave, discussing mundane household concerns and stealing sidelong glances at the clock; but in the car the undercurrent of tension broke to the surface. By the time we reached the freeway I took a deep breath and asked, “Will it make any difference what we find out today?”

There was a moment of silence as Harold pondered the question, then he replied, “No, it will not.”  I agreed.

Harold understood what I was really asking: Will bad news diminish our faith in the Savior Jesus Christ or undermine our understanding of Heavenly Father’s plan for us?  Will bad news destroy the peace we’ve felt and will continue to need if we have reason to grieve? No it will not! We choose faith.  

    

With that, the air was cleared. Instead of tension there was a feeling of lightness, of optimism. We were going to be fine no matter what.  

And that’s when I truly felt my Savior’s love.  

I feel my Savior’s love in all the world around me.
His Spirit warms my soul through everything I see.
He knows I will follow him, give all my life to him.
I feel my Savior’s love, the love he freely gives me.¹

I’ve come to understand that our Savior’s love can sometimes be felt more powerfully, more intimately, when things are not going well, when all we can do is rely on His love for comfort and strength, whether or not it is His will to remove our burdens. 

That’s my experience. I’ve taken some time deciding whether to post it, yet in gratitude how could I not? Our Savior’s love is real. He wants us to feel it. He offers this invitation and promise:

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. Matthew 11:28–30

Harold and I testify, along with the primary children and the multitudes who've gone before, that we feel our Savior's love .  .  .  and give thanks. 

¹ “I Feel My Savior’s Love” by K. Newell Dayley in Children’s Songbook, page 74.

You can hear this beautiful song by following the link below. Select “recorded music” then “words and music” then press the play button. Warning: This song has been known to stick in your head.

http://www.lds.org/churchmusic/detailmusicPlayer/index.html?searchlanguage=1&searchcollection=2&searchseqstart=74&searchsubseqstart=%20&searchseqend=74&searchsubseqend=ZZZ

It's Working!

“It’s working!” is the message of a simple text hastily sent to our children as we left the cancer center today. Harold gripped my hand and we exchanged a look much more eloquent. Within moments we received the first response. “Of course it is.”

That expression of confidence and faith brought a tear. The next response, “What’s working?” brought a laugh.  This news, so personally pivotal, is after all just a moment in the myriad ups and downs of life. Give it some context.

Well, here’s what’s working: Immunotherapy! 

The PET scan clearly shows the proof. Some of the tumors are completely gone. Others are still under attack, their bright blips fading and shrinking. The immunotherapy effect is expected to continue for some time. Harold will be closely monitored. This was the first good news. After the usual physical exam our oncologist added these additional thoughts. 

“Yes, the medical treatments are working, but there is much more going on with this man,” he said pointing to Harold. 

“What do you mean,” I questioned. 

“If you could follow me around for a few days you would appreciate the difference," he said tapping Harold on the chest. “It’s not quantifiable, I can’t reproduce it and give it to other patients, but what he has is more powerful than the medication I can offer.”

He then went on to speak of positive attitude, optimism, determination, peace . . . and something more. 

We know that "something more" is the blessing of peace and healing granted by a loving Heavenly Father. We also gratefully acknowledge the continued faith and prayers of family, friends, and associates. We humbly thank you.