The Lord's Prayer--How It Helped Me Through The Hardest Thing That Had Ever Happened To Me

I hope I've told you this before, but if not, here is the story of how the Lord's Prayer changed my life forever:

It was the first day of August, 1964, the morning my mother passed away.  She was only 44--Liesl's age now, until her birthday.  Rebecca and Irene and Michelle will turn 44 this year.  So you can see how young she was and how young our family was. 

I was 17.  I had just graduated from high school 2 months earlier.  In another 4 or 5 weeks, I would be leaving our new home in Portland, Oregon to go to BYU as a freshman.

My brother Frosty was 16, my sister Becky was 13, Kathy was 10, Bryce was 6 years old and would start 1st grade in a month.  My father was 45 years old.  Now that I have sons and sons-in-law near that age, I appreciate much more just how young he was.

Our mother had been diagnosed with a terminal illness, aplastic anemia, a rare blood disorder where the bone marrow fails to produce enough blood cells.  About five years earlier she and Dad  had been told she had about five years to live.  They did not tell us children that.  I'm sure they did not want us to worry.

My mother had gone into the medical school hospital on the 5th of July for tests and perhaps some experimental treatments.  While there, she contracted staph pneumonia because of her weakened immune system.  One night Dad came home and told us her name had been put on the critical list.  That was the first time we were aware she might die.

I remember gathering all the children around me and praying for her.  Mothers don't die!  She can't die, we need her!  We prayed desperately and just knew our prayer had to be answered!

Not knowing how long Mother might be in the hospital, Dad decided to have Frosty, who could work with our cousins on our uncle's farm, and Kathy and Bryce stay with Uncle Frosty and Aunt Betty in Moses Lake.  So now Becky and I were the only children at home.

One evening Dad took Becky to the hospital to visit Mother.  I was at a Mother-Daughter Primary party with a girl whose mother couldn't attend, so I wasn't with them.  Mother seemed to be doing better that night and they had a good visit.  Before they left, Mother asked Becky to sing Lead Me Into Life Eternal.  Afterwards, Becky was sad because she didn't know the words very well.

About 5:00 the next morning, Dad shook me awake.  "The hospital just called.  They said that if we want to see your mother again, we had better come now." 

"Whaaat?"  I rubbed my eyes and tried to comprehend what he had just said.

"Hurry and get dressed.  I'll take you up to the hospital."

When we got to her room, Mother was unconscious.  I looked at her, not wanting to comprehend what I was seeing.  "Give her another blessing," I pleaded. 

Dad just shook his head. "No, Honey.  We have given her many blessings.  It's up to the Lord now."

I walked down the hallways and out to car silently, but inside I was fuming!  Why wouldn't Dad give her another blessing?!  She couldn't die!  She just couldn't!

Dad dropped me off at the house and said he had some errands to run.  I ran into the living room and searched our bookcase for his priesthood manual.  Surely there was something in it that would convince him that he should give Mother another blessing!

What I found was a scripture that surprised me.  It was D&C 42:44:  And the elders of the church, two or more, shall be called, and shall pray for and lay their hands upon [the sick] in my name; and if they die they shall die unto me, and if they live they shall live unto me.

Now I understood that sometimes it might be the Lord's will that a person should die, even after they had a blessing.  I felt at peace with my father's answer, that it was in the Lord's hands.

Becky and I had agreed to play at a baptism that morning.  This would be our first time to play a special musical number in a church meeting since we had moved to Portland at the beginning of June.  Becky would accompany me while I played the violin.  It may seem strange, but I don't remember even considering the possibility of not playing that morning.  I suppose we just couldn't bring ourselves to understand how critical our mother's condition was.

We were pretty excited about how well our performance had gone and I remember that when we got home we were laughing as we opened the screen door into the kitchen.   As the screen door slammed behind us, we suddenly noticed our Aunt Betty's sister Mary standing in the dining room next to Father.  One look told us all we needed to know.  "The hospital just called," Dad said quietly, "Your mother just passed away."

The world seemed to stop.  An overwhelming sadness engulfed me.  Becky ran upstairs to her room.  I just stood there, my feet frozen to the floor.

The rest of the morning passed by like a dream.  People kept coming to the door to offer their condolences.  It seemed like everyone brought some food with them, and almost everyone brought a potato salad.  Soon our refrigerator was full of an impossible number of potato salads!

Finally the doorbell stopped ringing.  Mary left.  Dad left.  Becky went back up to her bedroom.  I finished washing the dishes that were in the sink.  Finally the tears came and I couldn't stop them.  They just came and came from somewhere deep inside me.  I cried until I could cry no more.

Now what?

I wandered into the dining room.  Our record player caught my eye.  Music.  It would be good to listen to some music.  I leafed through our collection of 78 rpm's looking for our recording of the Tabernacle Choir.  There it was. "The Lord's Prayer."  I slipped the record out of its sleeve and put it on the turntable, careful to hold the record by its outer edges.  I turned the switch on and the arm moved automatically to place the needle in the outer groove of the record.

The strains of the Philadelphia Symphony Orchestra filled the room.  Then the choir began to sing:  Our Father, which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.  Thy kingdom come.  Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven...

I didn't hear anymore.  The words Thy will be done in earth sank deep into my heart.  Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.  Thy will be done in earth...Yes.  Yes, I could accept that.  If it was the Lord's will for Mother to die, then I could accept that.  If it was His will, then surely everything would be okay.  He would take care of us.  We would be okay.  Yes.  I could say that.  Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

A feeling of peace and assurance entered my heart. 

I was still sad.  I still missed her.  Tears still welled up from somewhere deep inside of me and spilled out sometimes when I least expected it, but I felt at peace.  I didn't fight it.  I didn't despair.  I felt watched over, loved, cared for.

It would be okay.

And because I believed, because I could accept His will over mine, I could go forward with my life.  I didn't ever question why.  I didn't ever fear for the future.  I lived with peace in my heart and faith in my soul.

That day I found out that God knew me and loved me.  That day I felt Him touch my heart.  And that touch changed my life forever.  The hardest thing that could ever happen to me brought the greatest blessing I could ever be given.