The Sun’ll Come Out Tomorrow

We’re kind of obsessed with rainbows at our house this week. We moved at the beginning of December, and so we’ve been trying to get organized. I’m not sure how or why I decided to turn the playroom/guest-room into a rainbow room, but that is what it has become. I guess it was partly because it seemed so fitting for this phase of our lives. We have now left behind the dark and stormy clouds that plagued me (and my little family) for much of 2012. And now we’re enjoying the cheerful skies and crisp clean air that come after a storm. Maybe we’ll add a neon sign from somewhere like Neon Mama with some cute inspirational words on it in the future but, for now, rainbow is definitely what we’re going for in this room!

I’ve been pinning lots of ideas on my Pinterest board in this rainbow craze and adapting them for our playroom walls. Here’s one of our creations…

I wanted this message to be prominently displayed where my kids would see it often. Half of my children can’t read yet, but it won’t be long. And I hope that each of them will internalize the message. It’s one of the most basic lessons of mortality… opposition in all things. As President Uchtdorf has taught:

The scriptures tell us there must be opposition in all things, for without it we could not discern the sweet from the bitter. Would the marathon runner feel the triumph of finishing the race had she not felt the pain of the hours of pushing against her limits? Would the pianist feel the joy of mastering an intricate sonata without the painstaking hours of practice?

In stories, as in life, adversity teaches us things we cannot learn otherwise. Adversity helps to develop a depth of character that comes in no other way. Our loving Heavenly Father has set us in a world filled with challenges and trials so that we, through opposition, can learn wisdom, become stronger, and experience joy.

Heather has written about this subject in our book (see “Travail and Joy” in the Pain chapter). I love what she says here:

If we allow it, travail can help us develop our souls into the women and men God would have us be. In Ether 12:27, God said, “I give unto men weakness that they may be humble . . . for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.” Travail is a catalyst in which new life and new growth are created. To change something from one form into another requires a great amount of effort. For example, a chick must push and crack its egg to get out, and even the best ore must undergo extremely high temperatures before it becomes pure silver. It is through travail that our souls are stretched and pulled until at last-if we choose to allow it-we become reborn as stronger, more patient, understanding, and mature souls.

Having just emerged from a phase of travail (a birth canal, if you will), I can bear a second witness that what Heather wrote is true. I was stretched and pulled, I wrestled daily with God and Satan and angels and demons and who knows what else. I spent many moments painfully afraid that I would never see the “sun” again… that I would spend the rest of my existence in a pit of despair. It was an intense and crazy storm, but I survived. And I emerged. And I was, as Heather stated, “reborn a stronger, more patient, understanding, and mature soul.” And the sun did come out again. And there have been beautiful blue skies and rainbows to reward me for all that I endured. And I have even felt grateful for the storm that got me here.

A couple of nights ago, I was talking with my husband about how I was feeling. I told him how my experiences of the past year have given me a great gift. They have given me a deep appreciation and gratitude for “normal” days. I told him:

“I feel normal. I don’t want to die today. How AWESOME is that?”

When you’ve experienced deep darkness, every bit of light you’re able to recover feels monumental and celebratory. And when you find yourself climbing back to where “normal” used to be, it feels so extra-ordinary that you almost feel strange calling it “normal.” It’s no longer normal, it has now become AWESOME. And what used to be an “awesome day” has now become positively euphoric. I hope I never take for granted a normal day… never take for granted my will to live.

So if you find yourself weighed-down by dark clouds of despair, take heart. The sun will come out again. It will. And you may even be grateful for the clouds that made the sunshine all the more welcomed and cherished. Hang on, my friend.