A forceful, gentle pull

The other night Ben and I went to see the movie, Hereafter. Now it takes me a lot to actually fork over the money to see a first run movie, but I was compelled to see this, with thoughts of the hereafter on my mind constantly at this time. I can't say that the movie was great, in fact it was really slow and Ben said it best when he said the acting was underwhelming, but it was very positive for me because I came away from that movie feeling a greater gratitude for the knowledge of I have of the plan of salvation. The premise for the movie is about three different people struggling with the idea of what comes after this life, from differing points of view. Throughout the movie, they are all searching, yearning for the answers and there is no real conclusion for any of them. They still don't know in the end what it all means, where we go, or what to expect. I still have so many questions about why Gabriel's life had to end before it really started and why I am left to suffer through the enormous pain of living without him, but at the same time, I know where he is, I know God's plan, and I know that someday this pain will be replaced with amazing joy when we are reunited. It's humbling to think that in a world filled with so many people in the dark on this matter, I am blessed beyond measure to have it.

With this knowledge, I still wonder why every day is just so overwhelmingly sad for me without Gabriel here. I have my other children and my Ben, I have this knowledge of the gospel, and yet everyday I continue to be in so much pain and have so much disappointment with Gabriel's loss. I keep thinking that one of these days I'm going to get it, to let this knowledge bring me some glimmer of happiness, like I know it should. The Lord knows my struggles and I don't think it's a coincidence that when I was particularly struggling with this the other day, I was able to read in a book, Joy Cometh in the Morning, that I recently received from my aunt:

"In essence, all of my questions were tied together: "How long shall we suffer these great afflictions, O Lord?" (Alma 14:26). The answer we received, however, was not given as a specific number of days or weeks; it was about several important truths about patient endurance, or waiting upon the Lord.

Despite our understanding of where this little girl is now, why are we still filed with such sorrow that it cannot be quenched by our knowledge of the gospel? Our innate longing to belong to one another and the "homesickness" of separation from our departed loved ones are intentional parts of the plan of salvation. These yearnings can stay with us as a forceful, gentle pull toward our heavenly home. "

That was the answer I needed. The Lord does not really expect me to ever completely stop grieving over my loss of my sweet baby and the dreams I had for him. He doesn't expect me to ever feel complete without him here with me. He is my child now and forever and I should want to be with him. The Lord expects that I desire this and long for it. Knowing that I have my Gabriel waiting for me makes me want to do everything in my power to get to do that someday. So I'll continue to drag myself out of bed, put a smile on my face when I hardly feel like smiling, do all of the Sunday school answers, and mostly I'll go to church every week, even when it takes all of my energy for the two days preceding and following to do so, so that I can partake of the sacrament and renew my covenants with the Lord, and receive the knowledge that will get me to my perfect little baby in the end. If I didn't already desire it enough, Gabriel has become that forceful, gentle pull toward my heavenly home, and for that his life is one of the greatest blessings I could ever have received. Hopefully, along the way, I will find a way to do this with the joy that is intended in this life, and fulfill one of my greatest goals of enduring to the end, with a smile on my face.