you're safe here...

The first time I went to the temple to do baptisms for the dead, I remember sitting on one of the pews in the baptistry waiting area, dressed in my white jumper, and surrounded by the young men and women from my ward. I was feeling alone- surrounded by people, yet disconnected. 

I picked up the hymn book that was resting in the pocket of the pew in front of me, and flipped automatically to my favorite hymn: “I Know that my Redeemer Lives”. Like usual, I skipped past the first verse, and began soaking in the words of the second verse.

He lives to grant me rich supply.

He lives to guide me with his eye.

He lives to comfort me when faint.

He lives to hear my soul’s complaint.

He lives to silence all my fears.

He lives to wipe away my tears.

He lives to calm my troubled heart.

He lives all blessings to impart.

Those words always meant the most to me.  They resinated in the deepest reaches of my soul, because they were my testimony. That was the Savior I knew, and the Friend I loved.  

Gaining that testimony had came at a price.

As I sat, lost in those words, trying not to let anyone see me cry, one of my young women’s leaders noticed me. She was, and is, one of the most amazing women I know. Full of compassion and understanding, faith and love, strength and laughter. She was one of the few people I truly trusted with my secrets. She knew the truth. She knew I was depressed, even suicidal. She took me under her wing and made me feel loved. That day, she gave me a gift that I’m sure she has no idea made such an impact on my life.  She leaned over to me, and whispered three simple words. 

“You’re safe here.”

To anyone else, that would not have made any sense, but to me, it was as if the world had been lifted from off my chest, and for the first time in years, I could take a breath. I had always known that temples were sacred, holy ground, but never once had I realized that they were a physical place of safety from the monsters that haunted my every waking moment. The tears that fell then, were of an overwhelming sense of relief, and gratitude as I realized the truth of her words.

Countless nights I had spent curled on my floor, crying out for my Father as a small child does for a parent when woken from a nightmare... only I couldn’t wake from mine. The monsters never went away. I desperately wanted to run to my Daddy and stay in His arms where I would be safe. Truly safe. Since I couldn’t do that, I would pray for Him to hold me. 

Yet there I sat, in a place I could see and touch, and be completely safe. 

It wasn’t Home, but it was close. 

I remember being scared to leave because I knew what waited for me just outside those doors.

It has been many years since I have really thought about that night. 

For a long time I have struggled with one of basic building blocks of a strong faith--scripture study. 

Several years after my car accident, I felt that my relationship with my Savior had drifted somewhat, and I was missing the close friendship I had developed over the years previous.  I decided to really dedicate myself to building that relationship again. 

Since it was summer (and I lived in Utah... so about a block away from the church), I would walk over to the church parking lot in the evenings. (after that experience in the temple, I started hanging out a lot on church properties simply because they felt safer to me...) I would settle in a comfortable spot, and start studying the scriptures. Cross referencing, taking notes, looking up definitions... for at least half an hour. Then I would write in my journal for at least half an hour. Then, because it helped me focus to be moving, I would go on a walk and pray--- really talking to my Father... that usually ended up being quite a long conversation. When I decide to really talk about all the stuff going on in my head--- well, it’s more like “where’s the ‘OFF’ button?”. 

For the first several days, things were good. But by the second week, things were getting bad- fast. My journal entries were becoming very dark and filled with self loathing. When I read the scriptures,  terrible thoughts and images would fill my mind. My monsters were back in full force. I tried to keep going, telling myself I wouldn’t let Satan win. I prayed for strength...

 I prayed hard, but I finally came to the conclusion that it was better I read one verse of scripture a day and stay alive, than end up dead with a set of detailed cross-referenced scriptures in my hand. 

Yesterday, I sat down with my Bishop and as we were talking about some of the things I am going through in my life right now, he asked if it helps to read my scriptures... which I promptly replied “NO! It makes it worse!”  

(Don’t get me wrong. I know the scriptures are true, and I take great comfort in them when I can get through them without being attacked.)  

After our conversation, he asked me if I wanted a blessing. Knowing the immense power that comes from a priesthood blessing, and needing it desperately in my life, I said yes. I won’t go into the details- the words and impressions are for me to treasure in my heart, but one thing that I will say because it pertains to this whole post is that he blessed me that I would be able to read the scriptures without being tormented by the demons that have been plaguing me. Those words hit me powerfully. 

If someone was watching me during the blessing, they would probably have laughed... I tend to have interesting facial expressions when I am deep in thought or really concentrating (or so I am told...)  And I know I was concentrating very hard on the words that were being said, trying hard to commit them to memory so I could ponder them later... However when those words were spoken, my face broke into a smile. The only think I could think was “the scriptures are safe!!!”

Later that night, when I was at home, I pulled out my journal and my scriptures, and I read for 45 minutes. My heart felt joy and peace in the words I was reading. My mind felt blessedly empty! (ok..let me explain that one. It didn’t feel empty in a stupid way, but like walking into a room that is usually crowded with people all fighting and shouting over one another, but instead, was so calm, and still,  and empty that you could stand in the center and hear yourself breathe.)  In my mind, instead of the awful images I used to see, I saw that room and it was amazingly beautiful.

And I remembered that night in the temple... those three sweet words-

YOU’RE SAFE HERE.

~Kassi

click here>*I Know That My Redeemer Lives*

be still...

So often I find myself overwhelmed by the chaos of life. 

The tragedies, the horrors, and the confusion of the world.  The hustle and bustle of everyday life. The uncertainties of my life and what I am supposed to be doing with it... 

It is so easy to be swept away in the flood of life.

Several years ago, while walking in a vast forest of variegated shades of green, I listened to the noises that surrounded me. The bird calls from somewhere in the distance. The wind gently moving the trees and making the leaves whisper quiet secrets to each other. The snap of a twig...

I took in the smells of life... of moss covered earth, of firs, of rain.

 I stared at the trees towering hundreds of feet over me. At the textures of all that surrounded me. At the many shades of green... too many to count. My gaze lingered on the sun streaming through the dense branches- seeing the actual  sunbeams stretching out to kiss and warm the ground. 

I felt the soft earth beneath my feet, and the wind gently caress my face. 

My mind felt to wander in the peace of the moment. The thought came to me as an almost overwhelming truth-

"Be still and know that I am God"

It was as if the very wind and trees were whispering it to my soul. As if the sunbeams were illuminating my mind with a message of hope.

In that moment, with nothing but God and His creations around me, I knew.  I knew that God truly was mindful of me. 

Remembering that feeling of hope in times of turmoil isn't always easy. I think that is why we are supposed to "be still". To take a moment and listen. 

How else can we really hear?  

~Kassi

 "God is our ^arefuge and strength, a very present help in trouble."

 "Be ^astill, and ^bknow that I am God..."

Psalms 46:1&10

moments...

Everyone has moments in their life that defines them. An instant in history that changes them so profoundly that they know they will never be the same. 

Maybe it is the moment you kissed your spouse for the first time after your vows were exchanged. Maybe it was the moment you held you child in your arms for the first time. Maybe it was the day your dreams shattered, you took your first drink, or lost someone you love. 

I have two.

The first, was when I was a sophomore in high school. It was the moment I was writing a note to a friend and I jokingly wrote: 

"What would it matter if I killed myself?" 

then, I realized 

I wasn't joking. 

She never saw that note. 

The truth that I would contemplate suicide scared me to the core. However, it quickly became my reality. The weeks, months, and years that followed that single moment of honesty were filled with pain, confusion, and a darkness so tangible it was suffocating. It is difficult to describe to one who has never felt the tendrils of depression wrapping their inky arms around your mind, your heart, and your spirit. 

 Most of the time I couldn't put into words what I felt, but I knew that there was One who could understand the silence, so I spent countless hours curled in a ball in truly silent prayer. Rivers of anguish spilled out in the form of tears. Suicide for me was not a cry for attention. It was not simply giving up. Just as a small child who wakes from a nightmare cries out for a parent to save them, I wanted only to be with my Father where I could be safe from the monsters that plagued my mind as well as the monsters that I knew were real. All these monsters that I could not escape from. This nightmare I could not wake from. My bishop called it 

"homesick for heaven".

I was later diagnosed with Bipolar II (also known as Manic Depression).

My second, was the moment I fought my way out of the different, but equally real darkness of unconsciousness into the most excruciating physical pain I had ever felt, making me all too aware that I had survived the car crash I was sure was going to kill me. 

It was a normal day, less than a year after I had graduated from high school. I was driving to work when a car going the other direction swerved from her lane into a truck in the lane next to her, over corrected, went over the raised median and right in front of me. I knew I couldn't stop. I hit the brakes. I remember thinking two things.

 First: I am going to die. There is no way I will survive this. (I was amazingly calm about this fact. It was surprisingly reassuring that I was ok with it, that I felt at peace). 

Second: (oddly enough) Man, I just filled my tank with gas! Waste of money! (ok, so that was a stupid thing to think at a time like that, but there ya go)

The details of that day are hit and miss in my mind. I remember the spider web of cracks in the windshield. Voices. Sirens. Inside the ambulance with a medic telling me to breathe and keep my eyes open. Wires, IV, oxygen mask because I couldn't breathe...

When I opened my eyes for the first time after that accident, I had no idea how my life would be changed. The PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). The chronic migraines. The panic attacks. The social anxiety. The personality changes. The inability to hold down a regular job. The doctors, tests, meds, pain, frustration, anger, and eventually forgiveness. 

Ten years later I still open my eyes each day to face these things. 

These are moments that leave lasting imprints on our lives. They bring us to crossroads. It is what we choose at these crossroads that truly determines who we are. 

For a long time I didn't want most people to know about these things.  I was afraid. I was afraid of being judged, of being labeled... as crazy, an attention seeker, pathetic, or worse... 

broken.

 Something that needed to be fixed before it could be of use or value again. 

As hard and painful as my road has been, I am grateful for it. If I were given the choice to live my life over, I would go through it all again.  I would not trade what I have learned and what I have gained for an easier life. 

"...all these things shall give thee experience and be for thy good." D&C 122:7

God has taken me in these moments and led me through the crossroads that have made me a stronger person. I have learned compassion, strength, hope, and faith. I have gained a testimony of my Savior's Atonement and of His compassion, understanding, and mercy. Alma 7:11-13* is my all time favorite on that subject. I have learned so much about my Savior from those three verses alone!

 I have had opportunities to reach out and help others in ways that I would never have been able to if I hadn't first been prepared and taught through my own struggles. I have been blessed with gifts and talents that have helped me in my journey. 

I know that I am where I am supposed to be. I will be healed. I have been promised that.  But I don't believe the time is now, and I am ok with that. There are things that I am supposed to do that I may be in a unique position to do in my current state. I don't know. What I do know is that it is in God's hands, and will be in His time. 

With His help, I can open my eyes each day, stronger than the day before.

~Kassi

*Alma 7:11-13

11 And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.

 12 And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.

 13 Now the Spirit knoweth all things; nevertheless the Son of God suffereth according to the flesh that he might take upon him the sins of his people, that he might blot out their transgressions according to the power of his deliverance; and now behold, this is the testimony which is in me.