In November 2001, our life brought us one of those events that sits somewhere in the back of your mind as something that happens to other people, not to you.
Our 20-month-old daughter, Lyndsi, began a learning experience doctors refer to as Guillain-Barre. This incredibly painful disease attacked our sweet daughter at the end of a simple head cold. In this disease, the body’s own immune system destroys the myelin sheath of the nerves. The best description the doctors could give us was that her entire body felt the way the rest of us feel when a foot or leg “goes to sleep;” however, there was no way to relieve the pain. During her time at the hospital she also developed a very serious bacterial infection.
I will spare the dreaded details of the illness, other than to say that she is truly a miracle and we are so grateful for our Heavenly Father’s watchful care and for the lessons we learned along the way. The kindness and support from the medical community we dealt with was such a great comfort to us also, and I can never say enough wonderful things about how well we were treated.
But the point of this chapter is to try to share a small part of the overwhelming lessons that I learned while at Primary Children’s Hospital, things that have helped me grow closer to the Spirit.
We had a nurse in the ICU named Adam. He asked us if we were LDS, and when we told him that we were he told us that every Sunday there is a Sacrament Meeting (worship service) held there at the hospital for the patients and their families. Although circumstances with Lyndsi prevented my being able to attend on either Sunday that I was there, I was touched by the description he gave me. He talked about what an emotional experience it is to sit in a room full of sick children, some of them toting along their IV poles, some of them bald, all of them with health trials, and to listen to them sharing their testimonies of God and His love for them, telling how grateful they are for their blessings.
The first Sunday that we were there we were in the ICU, but the second Sunday the Bishop and a young man (I think his son), came room to room to see if anybody wanted to partake of the sacrament who had not been able to come to Sacrament Meeting. In a regular Sacrament Meeting the priesthood holders bless the sacrament for the whole congregation and then pass it to each person, but, as I experienced first hand, when the sacrament is administered to you alone, the bread and water are each blessed, just for you. Tears flowed freely down my face as I more deeply understood at that time that the sacrament is completely individual; even though it is administered to the congregation as a whole, Jesus’ sacrifice was very specifically for ME, as it was for EACH person. The impact that experience had on me is one that still humbles me to this day.
One night as I sat by Lyndsi’s bed two men came in to visit the family of the boy with whom Lyndsi shared a room. The curtain was drawn and I wasn’t paying any particular attention to what was going on, until I heard a prayer begin. As these two holders of the Priesthood laid their hands on the head of this little boy and prayed for his recovery, such a wonderful spirit entered the room. I pondered on how many blessings were given through the Priesthood in this very hospital every single day, and how many miracles had been seen here.
I had often heard people express the idea of “feeling prayers” in their behalf. I had always wondered what that must mean; but you know, sometimes you get what you asked for, and I now have a very clear understanding of that concept. We were aware of the numerous friends, family, church members, and even complete strangers who knew of our plight, who were praying for her. I don’t do well with stressful situations, but I was blessed with a calmness and cheerful attitude (most of the time!) that were way beyond what I thought I was capable of, and I truly felt that my Heavenly Father was by my side through all of this.
I honestly do not know why some people are allowed miraculous healings and others are not; but I DO know for certain that our lives are in the hands of a loving Heavenly Father who weeps when we weep.
Somebody asked me after that experience if having gone through that experience had built a special bond with Lyndsi that isn’t there with the other children. I guess to a point, perhaps. But it definitely changed my feelings for ALL of my children and my husband, because I realized that in merely an instant our lives can change. It helped me be more grateful for every single day and to “cherish the moment.”
I am so grateful that the Lord still gives us miracles!!!
Our 20-month-old daughter, Lyndsi, began a learning experience doctors refer to as Guillain-Barre. This incredibly painful disease attacked our sweet daughter at the end of a simple head cold. In this disease, the body’s own immune system destroys the myelin sheath of the nerves. The best description the doctors could give us was that her entire body felt the way the rest of us feel when a foot or leg “goes to sleep;” however, there was no way to relieve the pain. During her time at the hospital she also developed a very serious bacterial infection.
I will spare the dreaded details of the illness, other than to say that she is truly a miracle and we are so grateful for our Heavenly Father’s watchful care and for the lessons we learned along the way. The kindness and support from the medical community we dealt with was such a great comfort to us also, and I can never say enough wonderful things about how well we were treated.
But the point of this chapter is to try to share a small part of the overwhelming lessons that I learned while at Primary Children’s Hospital, things that have helped me grow closer to the Spirit.
We had a nurse in the ICU named Adam. He asked us if we were LDS, and when we told him that we were he told us that every Sunday there is a Sacrament Meeting (worship service) held there at the hospital for the patients and their families. Although circumstances with Lyndsi prevented my being able to attend on either Sunday that I was there, I was touched by the description he gave me. He talked about what an emotional experience it is to sit in a room full of sick children, some of them toting along their IV poles, some of them bald, all of them with health trials, and to listen to them sharing their testimonies of God and His love for them, telling how grateful they are for their blessings.
The first Sunday that we were there we were in the ICU, but the second Sunday the Bishop and a young man (I think his son), came room to room to see if anybody wanted to partake of the sacrament who had not been able to come to Sacrament Meeting. In a regular Sacrament Meeting the priesthood holders bless the sacrament for the whole congregation and then pass it to each person, but, as I experienced first hand, when the sacrament is administered to you alone, the bread and water are each blessed, just for you. Tears flowed freely down my face as I more deeply understood at that time that the sacrament is completely individual; even though it is administered to the congregation as a whole, Jesus’ sacrifice was very specifically for ME, as it was for EACH person. The impact that experience had on me is one that still humbles me to this day.
One night as I sat by Lyndsi’s bed two men came in to visit the family of the boy with whom Lyndsi shared a room. The curtain was drawn and I wasn’t paying any particular attention to what was going on, until I heard a prayer begin. As these two holders of the Priesthood laid their hands on the head of this little boy and prayed for his recovery, such a wonderful spirit entered the room. I pondered on how many blessings were given through the Priesthood in this very hospital every single day, and how many miracles had been seen here.
I had often heard people express the idea of “feeling prayers” in their behalf. I had always wondered what that must mean; but you know, sometimes you get what you asked for, and I now have a very clear understanding of that concept. We were aware of the numerous friends, family, church members, and even complete strangers who knew of our plight, who were praying for her. I don’t do well with stressful situations, but I was blessed with a calmness and cheerful attitude (most of the time!) that were way beyond what I thought I was capable of, and I truly felt that my Heavenly Father was by my side through all of this.
I honestly do not know why some people are allowed miraculous healings and others are not; but I DO know for certain that our lives are in the hands of a loving Heavenly Father who weeps when we weep.
Somebody asked me after that experience if having gone through that experience had built a special bond with Lyndsi that isn’t there with the other children. I guess to a point, perhaps. But it definitely changed my feelings for ALL of my children and my husband, because I realized that in merely an instant our lives can change. It helped me be more grateful for every single day and to “cherish the moment.”
I am so grateful that the Lord still gives us miracles!!!
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