Plumbing the depths of my selfishness

     This may be the weirdest post you've ever read. But that's okay, because it's mostly for me, and, since this post is all about me and my selfishness, I figure that's appropriate. Just to be clear: as I ramble about my feelings, impressions, and lessons, I am NOT preaching to you about how your life should be, about why you should change, or anything remotely resembling those things. Caveat over - spotlight back on me.
   

We are all selfish by nature. Learning to live without being completely self-absorbed is so rarely accomplished, we usually refer to people who have achieved it (even temporarily) as saints or prophets. As a deeply spiritual and religious person, I have been trying my entire life to develop a less selfish perception of the world. Let's just take a look for a moment at how well I've done:
     1. As the oldest of eight children it is all about me. If a sibling makes a mistake it is because I have not set a good enough example. If a sibling achieves success it is because my parents raised us right. Oh, yeah, and I set a good example.
     2. As a student it is all about me. I want to have both the top grade, and be the teachers' favorite. If there is an award or recognition to be had, I want it. If this means running against a friend for a student council position for which she is more qualified, then I will run and win.
     3. As a wife I want people to know just how much I have sacrificed for my husband. His success is due to my support and hard work.
     4. As a artist of sorts (whether as an author, on stage, in the orchestra pit, or behind the piano) I must give nothing less than my best performance. I strive for the lead roles and solos. The more my name is printed, the better.
     5. As a mother I must be conscientious about my children's needs, wants, and milestones. Like my siblings, their mistakes are my mistakes, their triumphs are mine also. I am the center of their universe because I am MOM.
     Are you sick yet? This is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg people! I'm not saying I haven't chosen to be selfless at times. Brief times. Not so long ago, if you had asked me "Are you a selfish person?" I would have responded with a "No, at least, I try hard not to be." How naive I was. I truly believed that I had made progress throughout my life on becoming less self-absorbed. I am now chagrined at what I had deemed 'progress'. This next part is very difficult to share, because it is close to my heart.

     The day I found out I had cancer I spent some time in prayer and meditation.

I had a very specific impression come to me. It was not my own thought, it came from somewhere else. Since I recognized this immediately, I also knew its source. Fortunately, despite the multiple screw-ups in my life, I have at least successfully learned to identify the Holy Spirit! The thought was something like this: "IF you wanted to be healed (and had enough faith to be healed) through a priesthood blessing/miracle, that is a choice you may make. However, if you want to fulfill God's will for you, this trial has been sent to you not for your own growth and understanding, but on someone else's behalf." Now, sometimes the spirit speaks in words, but sometimes it speaks in impressions. This one was kind of a combination. The part about this trial being for someone else had a deep meaning to it that was not communicable through words. It was powerful. It was also like a conversation, because I knew that I had the faith to be healed, and could request a miracle, but I also told my Father in Heaven that I primarily wanted to accomplish HIS will.
     Anyway, time passes and I tell people I have cancer and they tell me repeatedly how: positive I am, brave I am, inspirational I am, strong I am, etc. etc. But all I can think when I hear these things is "But this trial isn't about ME. It's for the benefit of someone else," and this leads me to examine my reactions to some of the other trials I've had in life. Some have been excruciating. The strength and courage and positivity I had to exhibit were inspirational as far as the way in which I approached the trial: SELFISHLY. Completely absorbed in myself, and my trial.
     I asked all the normal questions with these trials: DEAR GOD,

WHY ME? WHY? WHY? WHY? Please remove this trial from MY life. This trial is hard! It hurts! I know you want to refine me in your fire, but isn't there another way? WHY?
     I'm sure most of us are very familiar with these questions.
     So, here I am, diagnosed with cancer. I experience no "denial phase". I haven't yet experienced an "anger phase" and I'm hoping I won't (though it may come as a result of hormones, and if it does, I expect it to be short-lived). Because this time, this trial, my focus has been removed from MYSELF. I'm sure there are those who may read this post and not understand my faith, and they may say "her 'impression'  is a form of denial," but I testify that it was of divine origin. It has taken me weeks now to process the experience and even get this close to explaining it - but you better believe I didn't do it justice.

Now if that's not a miracle, I don't know what one is. This is new ground for me! A trial given to me, for which I am not concerned with the whys, and the normal rebellious attitude. I have embraced this trial. I've heard brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ try to explain the tremendous blessing that trials are to our life, but I've never so fully embraced and welcomed a trial before. This is what is seriously throwing other people off as they try to sympathize and empathize with me. It is why they are worried about how I'm handling it, because I clearly "must be in denial," or "it just hasn't hit her yet," or "she's just putting on a brave front". It's dramatically different than those situations. So different, I struggle explaining it to people.

      A friend of the family came over to speak with us one night. She shared a story she had read in a book. She couldn't remember the name of the book, if you recognize it please share in the comments! The story went like this: One day a woman entered the church's restroom to see a young mother with her baby. The baby had suffered severe burns to its hands from touching the glass covering a gas fireplace. Part of the recovery process for this little one required the mother to stretch the tender, healing skin grafts every hour. This caused terrible pain for the baby, but without it, the skin would not grow and learn to be pliable, and the child's dexterity would be severely limited for the rest of the child's life. This mother had to put her baby through excruciating pain to help it. The author used it as an analogy to our Father in Heaven. He stretches us through trials and tribulations. It hurts, but it is for our own good.

   

 This story reminded me of when my oldest suffered severe burns and required skin grafts when she was two years old. I can remember wishing with every fiber of my being that as her mother I could take her pain upon myself. If that act is what my current trial - my cancer - is accomplishing, I volunteer with all my heart. I will embrace it, and make people sick with my positive attitude. If it is accomplishing God's will, and helping someone else, I will gladly give up my selfish attitude and support His plan.