More of the Same

Credit

Last Sunday, one week ago, I sat in a bathroom, in a new home, in a new country, and cried the same tears I've cried around the world in my old bathroom.

The feelings were exactly the same.  So much had changed and yet an old familiar pain and discouragement overcame me.  No airplane could take me away from that pain.  No distance could quell it.  No ocean could separate me from it.

Pete had relapsed, which I had handled well enough I suppose, but something inside me was demanding that I withdraw and so I told him that I didn't feel safe and I couldn't be emotionally connected without trust.  He didn't appreciate that and I triggered into my old feelings of being unheard and misunderstood.

The thing is- this stuff doesn't go away for Pete and me. I'm not sure why. I had big dreams of starting a new life here, and although I didn't have any real evidence that all of the sudden Pete would quit relapsing, of course I longed for it.

But the other things is- I'm going to be okay. This is my load.  It gives me spiritual traction, it brings humility and compassion. Pete is going to be okay.  His load is changing him too, as he recovers we are learning healthier ways to communicate and love.

"There is no physical pain, no spiritual wound, no anguish of soul or heartache, no infirmity or weakness you or I ever confront in mortality that the Savior did not experience first. In a moment of weakness we may cry out, “No one knows what it is like. No one understands.” But the Son of God perfectly knows and understands, for He has felt and borne our individual burdens. And because of His infinite and eternal sacrifice, He has perfect empathy and can extend to us His arm of mercy. He can reach out, touch, succor, heal, and strengthen us to be more than we could ever be and help us to do that which we could never do." - David A. Bednar