Becoming like Christ
We would like to welcome Stephanie as a guest blogger for the next few weeks.
I finally put the last of the Christmas ornaments away (2 weeks earlier than last year). I figure it’s a good time to reflect on the Christmas season. (Hey, if Quimby can blog about Christmas in May, then January’s just as good, right?)
In a lot of ways, this was my “worst” Christmas season ever. My list of “didn’t get dones” is long: didn’t attend the live nativity and Bethlehem town, didn’t drive around to look at Christmas lights, didn’t decorate the mantle with nativities, didn’t read the Christmas story on Christmas Eve. And yet, as I look back, this was also the Christmas that I learned the most about Christ.
It started with two coinciding events. First, an idiot doctor advised me to stop taking my thyroid medication for a month. This immediately sent me into a tailspin so that I struggled to even move for the whole month of December. Second, our RS President gave a lesson on this article by Elder Bruce D. Porter in the Ensign. Between her lesson and going home to read the article myself, I understood Christ in a way I never had before.
Elder Porter starts the article by comparing Christ’s condescension to Mark Twain’s novel The Prince and the Pauper. In the story, the prince accidentally trades places with a poor boy. As a pauper, the prince spends months on the streets: hungry, beat by his father, nearly killed. He witnesses poverty, oppression, the grave injustices of the law - all firsthand in a way that he wouldn’t have been able to experience as the prince. In the end, he is restored to his throne (now as king), and “ever after serves as a merciful, good, and compassion king, having learned to love his people by his suffering”. I love that last line: his suffering is what taught him to be a good king. Elder Porter compares this to Christ:
We too have a prince who became a pauper. The Prince of Peace, the Prince of Glory, the Lord Jesus Christ came down to live among His people and share in their poverty and suffering so that He might be a more compassionate king.
Given my recent health struggles (and accompanying periods of depression), this hit me in a whole new way. I used to be more of the mind that you can will, pray, read your scriptures, whatever depression away. After my thyroid first started going bad in 2007, I quickly understood that you can’t “will” chemical changes in your body. As I sat listening to this lesson, I realized that the experiences I’ve gained in struggling with my thyroid have helped me to be more compassionate toward others who struggle with depression and other forms of mental illness.
One of my good friends has been struggling with serious clinical depression for the past few months. She’s checked herself into the hospital several times and struggles with thoughts of suicide. Two years ago, I think I probably would have avoided her because I wouldn’t have known how to handle it. She would have been one of “them”. But, now, given my experience, I know that she is one of “me”.
This realization made me both grateful for my own health struggles and more grateful for my Savior. Grateful for my own struggles because I think I am a better person as a result. Sure, I’m a little more irreverent, more prone to break down crying when someone tells me to go repark my car at The-Relief-Society-Meeting-Formerly-Known-As-Enrichment. But, I’m also less judgemental of others, more considerate of what they might be going through, more forgiving of their faults. I think that if I can overcome my own thyroid problems, I will be so much stronger on the other end - so much more able to listen and give compassionate service.
I’m more grateful for my Savior because He chose to experience hardships so that He could succor us. My hardships came by chance (or bad genes). If I had a choice, I most certainly would not have chosen to have spent the last two years on an emotional roller coaster. I’m grateful for the resulting compassion I’ve gained, but I still don’t know that I would choose it again.
Christ, on the other hand, knew exactly what He was getting into. He knew exactly what it would entail, and He chose to do it anyways. Just so that He can succor and comfort us. Just so that He could gain that extra bit of compassion. It honestly blows me away. Elder Porter says:
We may experience loneliness, betrayal, prejudice, scorn, and abuse. The Savior faced these things daily during His ministry. We may feel that our life is obscure, our days dull, and our talents and accomplishments meager in the eyes of the world. Christ made Himself of no reputation, having “no beauty that we should desire him” . . .
Serious illnesses, family tragedies, and emotional struggles do not happen necessarily because we have sinned. Adversity and heartbreak happen to good people; such is the fruit of a fallen world. But having experienced tragedy, sickness, and disappointment in His own life, the Savior knows how to strengthen us in our trials as well.
As I pondered all these things, I tangibly felt Christ’s love for us. He experienced all these things for us so that He would know how we feel.
The interesting thing is that this experience has drawn me closer to Christ and actually helped me to feel more like Christ. I never thought it would happen this way. When I think about becoming like Christ, I think of ministering to people, healing, teaching, feeding the masses, doing great things, preaching sermons. When I picture the Christ I am trying to become, I picture the perfect Christ who is performing miracles - the triumphant Christ. I never dreamed that the Christ I would most identify with is the suffering Christ - the Christ taking on the pains of the world so that He could then succor others. But both Christs are Christ.
I do hope that I end up sorting this thyroid thing out and coming out stronger. I don’t really want to stay in this emotionally challenged state for very long. But, when I do, I hope I don’t forget. I hope this experience allows me to be a better friend, daughter, mother, Relief Society President, whathaveyou. Because I kind of like this new me.
This was touching. It reminds me of Moro. 7:45-48, especially the line that says “for we shall see him as he is.”
Comment by Sterling Fluharty — January 27, 2010 @ 7:23 am
Stephanie,
Wow that was beautiful. I have had a similar experience that you are having now, but as a caregiver. About 7 years ago my mom was diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease, was put on dialysis and started waiting to receive a much needed kidney transplant. It was a grueling process, waiting to see if someone else could save my mom. We tested 21 friends and family to see if anyone was a match and no one was. Years passed and my mother grew smaller, weaker and less like the mother I had always known.
Although my dad still worked full time, he through himself into taking care of her. I moved to be close to her, to help her and to participate in her illness because she needed to be a priority.
In this time frame our family really struggled, I left a 6 year relationship, my dad was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes, my two sisters found out they had the same genetic disease my mother had, my oldest sister with Lupus and another one suffering terribly from epilepsy.
I felt angry at the world, at God. We were good people we didn’t deserve these things. We had tried to do everything we knew to be good, honest, hardworking people.
Five years later, weighing 89 lbs my mom finally got the kidney that saved her life. Looking back at the other side of this thing, I know that I am a better person because I have been through this. Through this process I became less judgmental and more forgiving. I learned how to overlook unpleasant smells, sights, sounds and dig into the humanity of being there, and being for with a person with an illness.
Thank you for your post, because today I realized that this is something very personal I can share, not just with others but also my savior.
Comment by LindseyM — January 27, 2010 @ 10:08 am
I felt like I have had this same experience, both with depression and with sin. In my idealistic sinless youth, sure I tried to be good, I tried to accept everyone, I did try, but I couldn’t seem to help but be pretty freakin’ judgmental. It wasn’t until I faced temptations of my own and truly felt the power of what ‘temptation’ means and sometimes gave in, it wasn’t until I became a sinner that I truly developed compassion. I don’t think everyone has to do this, I think some people are probably just naturally more compassionate, but I am so glad I could experience being so deeply disappointed in myself, I had to in order to get over myself.
Comment by fMhLisa — January 27, 2010 @ 10:48 am
This is lovely, Stephanie. Thank you!
Comment by Ben Pratt — January 27, 2010 @ 10:56 am
I feel for you and your thyroid, my dear. Mine is three years gone now, and i don’t miss it, but I do miss the time before. Long ago I could count on a good night’s rest resulting in a reasonable level of energy the next day, rather than the Russian roulette of energy level I have now with the replacement hormone. It has helped me learn to plan farther ahead and be more flexible, and i actually value those “I couldn’t get off this couch to give a crap” days as a good way to deal with my more petty anxieties.
Comment by Jessica — January 27, 2010 @ 10:57 am
Thank you for posting this. Today I really needed the reminder that the Savior has gone through all, and still loves each of us. I am the caregiver of a person with (currently moderate but worsening) mental illness, and I have recently been feeling less than Christlike towards this person because of the increasingly heavy burdens on myself and my family. I am going to look for more strength, rather than less burden.
Comment by anon — January 27, 2010 @ 11:08 am
Well done!
Comment by Claudia — January 27, 2010 @ 11:25 am
Good work Stephanie.
Thank you for this. The best people I know are the ones who have managed to take the rotten things that have happened to them and somehow turn them inside out as a means of helping and caring for others.
Alma 7:12:
And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.
Comment by Mark Brown — January 27, 2010 @ 11:26 am
Beautiful post, Stephanie.
Comment by ECS — January 27, 2010 @ 11:28 am
Beautiful post! I’m so glad you were able to learn from that experience.
is it okay if I come up and rip out your doctors thyroid to teach him empathy? I’ll check his levels in a few months-I’m sure it’ll take that long, no point in checki8ng too early or using medication for a little laziness and sadness thats probably hormonal anyway
Comment by britt — January 27, 2010 @ 11:41 am
Beautiful post! I’m so glad you were able to learn from that experience.
Comment by britt — January 27, 2010 @ 11:44 am
HA my computer must have posted before I was ready…I took out that second part for a reason. This is such a positive post I didn’t want to take form it with my natural tendancy towards annoyance to dr.s who casually play with peoples lives.
Comment by britt — January 27, 2010 @ 11:45 am
Beautiful, Stephanie. Having had ongoing issues with depression myself, I understand exactly what you mean. When I was young and foolish, I thought those who suffered depression were obviously dealing with some sort of unresolved sin, and that those who took medication were taking the easy way out instead of properly relying on the healing balm of the Savior. Now I understand that life isn’t quite as storybook as that, and that the healing power of the Atonement is much more long-term, much more complex than that naïve conception.
Comment by Derek — January 27, 2010 @ 12:05 pm
I really loved this post Stephanie, it was very powerful. I too developed a strong connection to the suffering part of my Savior when I was going through a very difficult time in the first year of my marriage. Something happened to me, that affected and hurt me deeply, but that was not a result of any “sin” I had committed. It was through this that I really gained such a knowledge and understanding of the atonement - not just for the redemption of sin - but for the connection to my Savior. At the time, I just felt like no one could truly know what I was going through, or how I felt. And I was reminded that one person - one person only - had experienced EXACTLY what I was feeling in that garden. He had taken on my pain, sorrow and heartache the same as He had taken on my sins. And I felt such comfort in that. It has changed my beliefs around the atonement, it has forever changed my relationship with my Savior, and - as your post so aptly explains - it has made me a far more compassionate and empathetic person to others who struggle. Though I wish I didn’t have to go through what I went through, it has been a gift of immeasurable proportions.
Comment by Natalee — January 27, 2010 @ 12:18 pm
We had a lesson in RS on sunday about service, and there was one comment- the sister apologized for being off topic, but she really felt like she should share- her sister had had a baby as a teenager, and gave it up for adoption. She talked about how her sister made a stupid choice, but that through applying the gospel she was able to give another family such an amazing gift, and that we all have our challenges in life, but through those challenges, we’re presented with ability and opportunity to serve and help others- and THAT is where the real healing in our own life comes in.
I know that some of the hard things I’ve struggled with really felt pointless until I discovered I could help other people going through the same thing.
Comment by Alliegator — January 27, 2010 @ 12:33 pm
If you haven’t already, I suggest everyone watch on DVD the episode of This American Life (the one on Showtime) entitled “the face of God” or something like that. It shows the process a Mormon painter goes through to paint religious art and those he uses as models. I came away from that with the exact same lesson you learned here. I learned to empathize with Christ in a way I had never really thought about trying to do. It was powerful.
Comment by lola — January 27, 2010 @ 12:35 pm
This.
This is wonderful Stephanie.
Comment by Reese Dixon — January 27, 2010 @ 12:35 pm
I really liked this post.
But it also strikes me to the heart, because my next thought is “so how badly do you really want to be like Christ? Are you truly willing? No matter what it takes?”
Because I’m scared of the answer, I just have to put my head down, point myself in the direction I want to go, and just keep taking steps, grateful I don’t have to see what’s up ahead of me.
Comment by Martin — January 27, 2010 @ 12:51 pm
Thank you for this beautiful post Stephanie. I’ve experienced something similar the past 14 months with my son’s cancer journey.
I am NOT grateful for his disease (I think that would be insane) but I’m grateful for the lessons learned, especially an increased reliance on the Atonement. It doesn’t matter (as much) when people can’t comprehend what we’re going through as a family because of the knowledge that Christ can and does.
Thanks again, Stephanie.
Comment by Lupita — January 27, 2010 @ 12:57 pm
I enjoyed this post. Thanks
As already stated, we come here to get experience we can’t acquire in any other way. If we’re living close to God then He will support us in our trials and difficulties (Alma 36:3). If on the other hand, we are in a “state of sin” (willful breaking of the law) then we can not expect the same support–we’re left on our own (Helaman 4:13).
Suffering doesn’t always lead to growth for some people, it can hardened them. Especially those who have left the gospel path (Alma 24:30). But for those who follow Christ He will turn to to our benefit (2 Nephi 2:2).
Comment by Jared — January 27, 2010 @ 1:02 pm
I can relate after 7 years of chronic health issues and other stuff. I wouldn’t sign up for it, but I wouldn’t trade what I’m learning about God and about myself and about the Atonement.
Thanks for the post.
Comment by m&m — January 27, 2010 @ 1:23 pm
thanks Stephanie. Beautiful post. And inspired me to finally get my butt into gear and put up the post I’ve been procrastinating for several months!
Comment by Rebecca — January 27, 2010 @ 1:59 pm
Lovely, Stephanie. I don’t like to suffer, and I won’t if I can help it, but some of my experiences have given me a little more empathy and compassion. I need a lot more of both, and hopefully I don’t have to bleed out every last dram the hard way. One slightly less painful thing that has given me insight is the willingness of people to share their struggles in this forum and others. I’ve had my prejudices shattered a few times, and it’s been very good for me..
Comment by Moniker Challenged — January 27, 2010 @ 2:13 pm
Beautiful post. Excellent.
Comment by Bobby Pin Natalie — January 27, 2010 @ 2:37 pm
Stephanie, thanks for this beautiful post. I am with Reese, I love how you have come away with the suffering Christ being the identity that feels closest.
It reminds me of the allegory in Jacob 5. In verse 50 Christ says to HF, Spare it a little longer. I hear so much compassion in that single phrase, and feel that he watches us suffering, kicking against the pricks, pleading to have our burdens removed from us, but with a fulness of love, and with a gentle comfort, He says, spare it a little longer. He knows what we will become at the end of the journey, and He believes that we can arrive there.
I often forget to believe in myself, but am grateful for someone who believes in me.
And thank you to the link to Elder Porter’s talk. I believe you recommended it once before, and I forgot to save it so I could read it
Comment by Enna — January 27, 2010 @ 2:40 pm
Stephanie, I love all of your comments and especially this post. Thank you for Elder Porter’s quote. I will have to go back and re-read that article.
As a person who as struggled with depression in the past, I know how badly it feels like a prison. You’ve got a whole community on this blog supporting you and loving you. Don’t ever forget that.
Thank you for allowing me to see my Savior in a different light today.
Comment by Risa — January 27, 2010 @ 4:09 pm
“I quickly understood that you can’t “will” chemical changes in your body.”
That is so true. I went through a similar situation with my thyroid, and before I knew what was going on, people would always say, “it’s just stress” or blame it on some other external circumstance. But I knew it wasn’t just stress. I knew it was something internal that I could NOT control. So it was very hard for others to understand or be sympathetic. But, in regards to your actual post, I thought it was truly amazing of you to find the positive from your experience. I truly believe we are given certain trials for a reason. Everything we do on earth is leading up to becoming more like Christ. I am glad you were able to feel closer to Him through this and gain a stronger understanding of who He is. Thanks for this post. It made me want to be more grateful for my own trials.
Comment by mk7 — January 27, 2010 @ 7:01 pm
Oh Stephanie, this is great. I’ve found myself in the midst of a pretty serious spiritual drought, that I haven’t felt particularly motivated to get out of. Your words prompted gentle whisperings of feelings I thought I had completely forgotten. Beautiful.
Comment by Natalie K. — January 27, 2010 @ 8:23 pm
This reminds me of my journey over the last six or seven years. It has been a journey of loss, and learning to let go of the things and people that I love, and it has been desperately difficult to really adjust to my new, lesser reality.
However. I have come to know my Savior far better because of the suffering I have endured, and that relationship has made my losses bearable. He has refined me, and I am more than I was because of this.
Comment by Matt A. — January 27, 2010 @ 9:12 pm
Stephanie,
True to form, you have shown your gentle yet powerful character. I’m continually amazed at your ability to hold true to your convictions and nonjudgmentally allow others to experience life, doing the best that they can do. This is a very nice post and it is inspiring. Thank you.
Comment by Lawyer Lady — January 27, 2010 @ 11:32 pm
Thank you, all, for your kind words.
Comment by Stephanie — January 28, 2010 @ 9:48 am
Yay! A Stephanie guest-posting stint makes fMh even better (if that were even possible!)
I love this post, Stephanie. I love that you’ve resolved to be better because of your experience. I often find when I meet other people that those who have suffered often have a depth of empathy that probably those of us who have lived largely comfortable lives (e.g., me) probably lack.
Comment by Ziff — January 28, 2010 @ 8:06 pm
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