January 9, 2021 – “I Will Bring You up Again out of the Depths”

Our sweet Benny would have been seven months old today.  Our sweet friend took these pictures today of Isaac and Zoey to celebrate our angel boy.  Talk about warming my mama heart.  Oh how these two loved their Benny BooBoo.

• 

• 

Tom and I were talking today about how Benny would be getting to the age where he was learning to sit up, probably getting his first tooth, and maybe even starting to move around and crawl a bit. It’s sad to not be watching him reach those milestones, but we’re grateful we still feel him close, even though he’s not with us physically.  We’re also grateful for the miracles and tender mercies that continue to come our way, a big one of which we experienced today.  Goodness, the Lord is so good.  And so is our sweet Benny.

On the morning Benny passed away, Tom and I were doing our gospel study early to make sure we made time for it before the babies woke up and our day got busy.  That week’s “Come, Follow Me” Sunday School lesson was from Ether in the Book of Mormon and told of the Jaredites leaving their home to travel on the water, in barges, to the promised land.  The Jaredites built the barges themselves, making them “tight like unto a dish” so they could withstand the water, and the Lord had miraculously given them light in the form of stones that they could keep in the barges in order to see.  The sixth chapter of Ether tell us that the Jaredites “got aboard of their vessels or barges, and set forth into the sea, commending themselves unto the Lord their God.”  They were on the water for 344 days, during which they faced “furious winds” and “mountain waves” and “great and terrible tempests which were caused by the fierceness of the winds.”  But despite the obstacles they endured, they “did land upon the shore of the promised land” as the Lord had promised, and they “shed tears of joy before the Lord, because of the multitude of his tender mercies over them.” 

This story has always been one I enjoyed reading because I think there is so much to be learned from the example of the Jaredites.  That morning as I was studying, I made the following notes in my scriptures regarding certain aspects of the story that touched my heart:

• “The Lord doesn’t want us to live in darkness and will do His part to help us live in light, but we have to have faith in Him and do our part.”
• “Sometimes I feel like we have to do this in our lives — just commend ourselves to the Lord and take a big leap of faith! It’s reassuring to read scriptural examples of people who also did that.”
• “The vessels were so well built that the water couldn’t penetrate them. That didn’t stop the storms, but it did protect them. We will face rough waters in our lives, but we can build our testimonies such that outside forces can’t penetrate them. It’s up to us.”
• “The Lord knew what He was doing. Even though He was sending winds, those winds were getting the people to the promised land. In our lives, trials may seem difficult and sometimes like we’re going to drown, but if we trust the Lord, everything will keep pushing us to where He needs and wants us to be.”
• “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the verse about how they couldn’t be broken and they had light comes after the scripture about how they praised the Lord always. Gratitude is such a game changer!”

And that was that on what I thought was a normal Monday morning.  I read my scriptures.  I studied this story.  I opened my heart to try and increase my faith through my study.  I made notes of what I felt the Spirit was teaching me.  And then I closed my book, said a quick prayer of gratitude, and went to get my children up for the day.  Little did I know that every parent’s worst nightmare was about to become our reality, and as I’ve said many times since that fateful morning, the rubber would meet the road with my faith and I’d question whether or not I really did believe everything I’d just read and felt inspired to note.

The next few days are a blur in my mind.  Thankfully I had the presence of mind to detail our days, including my thoughts and the rollercoaster of emotions, in my journal.  Someday I will go back and read through what I wrote on those days, but not anytime soon.  I’m not there yet.  I’m still too close to the pain to read it in a way that wouldn’t make it all come flooding back.  I know I’ll get there, and I’m so glad I’ve been keeping my journal as much as I have.  But I’m just not there yet.

The night our angel boy passed away, our dear friend had taken Isaac and Zoey for a sleepover, so it was just Tom and me in our home.  Needless to say, we both had trouble sleeping.  It was quiet and felt so empty without the light of our dear Benny.  We tried to sleep, but the darkness was too much for me.  I tried to let it be, but I felt so overwhelmed by the darkness that seemed to fill our home that evening.  It was so dark that it made me feel physically uneasy.  Not wanting to disturb Tom, with the hope that he could get some sleep, I went out to the family room and turned on all the lights of our main level to try and rid our home—and my heart—of the darkness.  I didn’t want it to overtake me and I was worried that it would.  As I sat and read and prayed, I felt hopeless.  I wondered if my life would ever be the same.  I wondered if morning would ever come.  And then sure enough, after many hours and more darkness than I would have liked, the sun rose and light began to again fill our home.  It took longer than I wanted, but morning came and it felt like the brightest day of my life because it had been the darkest night of my life.  As I sat and took in the warm rays of sunshine, I realized that we can’t fully appreciate the light without experiencing the darkness.  I realized I couldn’t have fully loved my sweet Benny if I hadn’t opened myself up to the deep and harrowing sorrow that may come if I lost him, and somehow I was reminded that my grief was a reflection of my pure love for my angel boy and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Part of my reading that night was returning to my scriptures and that week’s Sunday School lesson.  The scriptures have always helped me find answers to prayers and brought comfort to my heart in the past, so I figured it was worth a shot as I faced such a difficult road.  If ever I needed answers and comfort, it was that night.  On the first page of that week’s lesson in the “Come, Follow Me” manual was this picture, titled “I Will Bring You up Again out of the Depths” by Jonathan Arthur Clarke:

For some reason I was so drawn to this picture.  The colors.  The contrasts.  The dark.  The light.  The blues.  The whites.  The waters.  The winds.  This picture immediately caught my eye and touched my heart.  I felt it so beautifully portrayed the story of the Jaredites in their barges on the water, facing fierce winds and billowing storms, but finding the rays of sunshine and remaining faithful and praising God until they ultimately arrived at the promised land He had prepared for them. 

Going through this experience has made me feel quite like the Jaredites in their barges on the water, and I don’t think it was a coincidence that’s what my gospel study was that morning. I’m grateful my faith is (generally) firm and “tight like unto a dish” but that sure hasn’t stopped the storms from coming.  The winds from blowing.  Our family from being buried in the depths of sorrow associated with losing our Benny.    

But, as this picture portrays, amidst the darkness and tempests, we’ve been able to find rays of hope and light.  In those moments when we thought we couldn’t make it even one more minute, the Lord has always reminded us He is there – usually through the love of someone in our lives.  Like this picture shows, the winds are great and the water is deep, but the barges are solid and the Lord is in control.  And just as He brought the Jaredites “up again out of the depths” and to the promised land, we continue to see how He is lifting and strengthening us to withstand this most trying storm of our lives.

A few weeks after we lost Benny, I was telling one of our wonderful neighbors about this picture and my thoughts of feeling connected to it and the Jaredite story.  In fact, I’d actually tried to go online and find the artist who painted the picture to see if there was any way I could get a copy.  I loved this picture and felt it so beautifully had the potential to be a positive reminder of this experience for our family and our desire and need to always have faith in and trust the Lord.  I couldn’t find the artist though and seemed to be striking out left and right as I tried to track him down.  It appeared he’d submitted the painting to a Church art contest many years ago, but that was all I could find.  I searched for other paintings or pictures that depicted this Jaredite story, but none of them spoke to my heart the way that Clarke’s did.  For some reason, it was just the perfect representation in my mind and nothing else really compared.

Little did I know that by telling my wonderful neighbor and friend this story, she would go to work behind-the-scenes to work a miracle.  She reached out to an artist in our ward, Sarah Richards Samuelson, to see if she even knew where we could start with something like this.  Well, it just so happens that Sarah knew Jonathan Arthur Clarke’s brother from a previous ward, and she thought she may be able to have him ask his brother to sign a release for printing.  (Even though the Church now owns the artwork, it is still the artist’s creative property and I believe they have the right to choose how it’s used.)

Sarah was a woman on a mission over the last few weeks and was able to contact Clarke’s brother, who connected her to the artist (who is now a dentist in the midwest).  They spoke and Sarah shared our story, and apparently he was so touched by the situation that he sent a letter to the Church giving his full permission for them to share the print file with Sarah (and us).  Sarah then took the file to her publisher, who arranged to have it printed.  Then, when she went to the framing shop and showed them a picture of some other frames in our home, the framer mentioned he was actually the one who created those frames so he would be able to create something similar.  Talk about coincidence after coincidence.  Or really, divine intervention after divine intervention.

Today Sarah and two other incredible friends brought the finished product to our home.  Surprise!  (I’ve been doing pretty good lately and only cry about once a day, but the second I saw this painting, the tears started flowing.)  I knew on some level they’d been working on this, but I had no idea that my deep-seated longing for this art to be in our home would be possible. 

Not only was it possible, but it’s absolutely beautiful.  It’s the perfect reminder of having faith and trusting the Lord during the most difficult of storms – both things that have made all the difference for our family as we’ve processed moving forward and adjusting to life without Benny.  The Jaredites trusted the Lord, and that’s reflected in this piece of art.  And now it’s our turn.  It’s my turn.  Am I willing to “commend (myself) to the Lord” and go with confidence into the water?  Do I have the faith to turn to the light and recognize the Lord’s miraculous hand in my life?  Am I strong enough to praise Him even in the depths of this tempestuous sea?  And do I believe deeply enough that somehow, some way, the Lord is getting me to exactly where I need to be?

I do.  I believe it.  In some cases I know it, and in all cases I believe it.  I trust the Lord.  I have confidence in Him.  I love Him.  And I know He loves me and is aware of our family.  I’ve seen it and I’ve felt it time and time again.  The Lord is good.  He is so, so good.  I’m grateful for the scriptures and the way we can, as the ancient prophet Nephi said, liken them unto ourselves and find the answers and strength we need.  I’m grateful for the goodness of others who have gone above and beyond, like today with this painting, to show us love and give us hope when we needed it most.  And just as this life-changing picture depicts, I’m grateful for how I see the Lord lovingly, unfailingly, and mercifully continuing to bring our family—and me—up again out of the depths.