Miracles

In pondering..., I have thought much about the circumstances of so many others. What about the innumerable faith-filled, priesthood-blessing-receiving, unendingly-prayed-for, covenant-keeping, full-of-hope Latter-day Saints whose miracle never comes? At least in the way they understand a miracle. At least in the way that others appear to receive miracles.  What about those who suffer from profound afflictions—physically, mentally, emotionally—for years or for decades or for their entire mortal life? What about those who die so very young?

My limited knowledge cannot explain why sometimes there is divine intervention and other times there is not. But perhaps we lack an understanding of what constitutes a miracle.  Often we describe a miracle as being healed without a full explanation by medical science or as avoiding catastrophic danger by heeding a clear prompting. However, defining a miracle as “a beneficial event brought about through divine power that mortals do not understand”gives an expanded perspective into matters more eternal in nature. This definition also allows us to contemplate the vital role of faith in the receipt of a miracle.

King Nebuchadnezzar demanded that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego worship the golden image he set up as a god, threatening, “If ye worship not, ye shall be cast … into the midst of a burning fiery furnace.” Then he taunted them with “Who is that God that shall deliver you out of my hands?”

These three devout disciples said: “If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace. … But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods.”

They possessed full confidence that God could save them, “but if not,” they had complete faith in His plan.  {Donald L. Hallstrom, October 2017}

This talk was given during the Sunday morning session of General Conference.  I swear to you, it was as if this man was talking just to me.  I have had four years to contemplate the word Miracles, and having Faith, have seen many.  Not just during our cancer journey, but throughout our married life.  But it is Thursday's Miracles that I would like to write about tonight.  Oh, the Miracles!

I'm not sure when my aversion to funerals began, but I have not been able to attend a single one, as long as I can remember, without crying the night before, as I was getting ready, the entire drive there, during the viewing and the service (honestly, if I can stay that long) and the entire drive home.  Maybe it stems from stories I have heard about my sister Keilie's funeral, where I cried as they were closing the casket, "Don't you shut that on my sister!" I'll never know.  Whether I was too young or it is a blocked memory, I don't remember that day.  Funerals have always just been extremely difficult and painful.  To say that I was nervous about how I would act during my child's would be an understatement of epic proportion!  I was terrified beyond belief.

The morning dawned cold and windy.  True to form, I was a mess of snot and tears for a while.  In all honesty, I hid in my bathroom from eyes that would see me bawling.  I was most worried about the closing of the casket, knowing that it would be the last time I ever saw my Caden's earthly face again.  Oh, how it hurt so much to think about and anticipate that moment.  Once I cried myself out and processed the fears, I made the decision that I had chosen not to make for many weeks: I put on makeup.  Randy asked me more than once why I was even considering it, but I just had to.  I had a backup package of makeup remover wipes, knowing that I was going to bawl my eyes out, but I had to look my best for my boy, just one more time.

{Miracle}From the second I made that decision, it was like a weight was lifted from me-- I was surprisingly well.  No one was more surprised than I.  I felt calm and peaceful and strong and light as I walked in and saw my beautiful boy in the casket we chose, and throughout the entire viewing.  {Miracle} Our funeral director brought in a 3" binder full of double sided casket pictures on the day we finalized all of Caden's arrangements.  Randy had always considered white, I knew Caden's favorite color was a dark gray.  With just one page swipe of more than 300 choices, we found one that was mainly white with dark gray handles.  Effortless and perfect choice to give both of my men their color preferences.

I cannot say that it was an "easy" day for me, I cannot say that I didn't cry so, so much, I cannot say that seeing them close the casket didn't feel like they were sealing a large portion of my heart away, I cannot say that I will not shed tears and tears as I fully process the day over the next hours, days, weeks, and possibly years, but I can say that I know the entire day was a {Miracle} given me by my Heavenly Father.  He knew the worries of my heart, in reference to the entire day, and buoyed me up beyond anything I could have accomplished on my own.  Though my babes felt the loss keenly, sobbing harder than they have ever cried before, I hope they will be able to realize and recognize the calming Spirit that attended the day.  Like so much that has happened, it was a beautiful heartbreak experience.

As we walked into the chapel, following behind the boy we would never see in the flesh again, I could not believe the amount of love and support that greeted us, reverently standing as we entered.  Minus about six rows of pews reserved for our family, each pew was filled shoulder to shoulder, each seat behind the pews, for rows and rows as far back as I could see as we passed, was filled.  It took my breath away, breaths that were hard to take because of my sobs and burning heart.  To those that were in attendance, to those that were there in spirit, to those that have supported us through it all or just a few hours, THANK YOU!  I will never, never, never be able to say it enough: THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!

The music performed by the Ward Choir and Anastacia Crosier was gorgeous, the talks given by Brothers Bagley, Ritchie, and Randy Dirks (that man astonishes me with his strength and testimony!), as well as the remarks given by Bishop Kreutz were phenomenal, along with the Holy Ghost's comforting presence made the service the most amazingly wonderful tribute to my Caden, The Boy in Heaven.  I will never forget the tender feelings and emotions, not as long as I live.

{Miracle} As our Brother-in-law, Ryan, prayed at the end of the service, he asked the Lord for something that I had prayed for for many days prior to the service: For the weather to hold.  From the day Caden passed, Randy and I watched the weather change hourly from "60 and sunny," to "55, windy, with a 90% chance of rain."  Truly, while we were in the church for those three hours, it had been raining.  While we drove to the cemetery, it was sprinkling on us.  But the second we got out of our cars, the winds calmed down and the showers ceased.  Not one drop fell during the grave dedication.  Not one!

Our prayers for years have included many "but if not..." statements.  Of course we prayed many, many times for Caden to be healed.  Of course we prayed for diminished pain and suffering.  Of course we prayed for more time.  Of course we hoped for a different outcome.  We always knew that Caden could be healed, if it was the Lord's Will.  We knew He could have kept Caden from getting cancer, even.  But because all of the miracles we have witnessed, all of the miracles that some would not see as such, even through the miracles given at the time of his passing, we have always felt of our Heavenly Father's love for us and for our son.  Caden's birth was my miracle, his life and death was a miracle for us all.  I will always think of October 12, 2017 as one of the most miraculous days of my personal history, the day we all paid tribute just one more time to Caden Randy Dirks, The Boy in the Bed, our Eternal Miracle, our forever Boy in Heaven.