If Mary Can Try Harder, Maybe I Can, Too!

I was touched tonight to read Lynsey's post and then Mary's. They remind me of how really hard it is to be young parents. The tightening of the stomach whenever one of our children falls or gets sick is not really comparable to the worry we feel for ourselves. It's actually worse, isn't it?

I recall so well how hard it was for us to see Joseph (our Joseph, not Ben and Lynsey's poor little fellow) undergo an emergency appendectomy that took 4 hours and 15 minutes because of all the pus that had to be cleaned out of him after the appendix burst. We just sat there in that lobby in the old Madison Hospital holding hands, occasionally talking, sometimes praying, sometimes just thinking.

The next big deal (and it was a BIG deal) was the Strep infection he got in his throat. We dutifully administered the antibiotics until the problem appeared to clear up. We were wrong to stop then, though, as the same strain moved into his kidneys and shut them both down completely for 5 weeks! We learned the hard way that antibiotics are to be used up unless you're told otherwise. We took turns sitting with him at the University of Utah Hospital for 6 weeks. Shayne would stay in Rexburg with the squids while I stayed with Joseph. Then we'd switch off. There were lots of prayers and a few Priesthood blessings, but the sudden turn-around happened on the fast sunday when the Rexburg Third Ward dedicated its fast that day to Joseph's recovery.

I know that the Lord was involved in all of that.

Have you ever noticed the little patch of white hair on the side of Joseph's head? That developed during the fearful rigors of that period. It's always reminded me of what happened to Moses while he was receiving the law up on the mountain.

Then, of course, there came the broken femur during our second stay in Moscow. Shayne had just begun her latest round of chemotherapy and we had our precious friend Carolyn Jimenez (Carolyn Black today) watch the kids while we drove to Lewiston in search of a hairpiece that she could wear since scarves got tiresome. When we got back, Carolyn said that Joseph had jumped out of a swing (at considerable altitude, it seems) and had announced to his Jimenez playmate that he had a broken leg. Sure enough!

He was in traction for about six weeks, as I recall. Then came the fun times of his body cast. I actually look back fondly on the times I would pick him up by the back of his neck with one hand and by the sawed-off shovel handle between his knees with the other.

We could never figure out why his Heavenly Father tried and moulded Joseph so much. Our other children were equally beloved by us, but their trials seemed to be of different natures, usually. The big, physical, medical challenges were almost all reserved for Joseph.

Today, looking back on it all, I can see my boy growing with each of those trials. I can also see him receiving great blessings in the form of good friends, kind neighbors, fine teachers, and faithful Priesthood leaders. A man as fine as Joseph is not made only by his harsh experiences but also by the special blessings which only the greatest spirits can receive to the greatest advantage. His wonderful wife is another example of this. Mary isn't just a keeper; she's one in a million. I love her for who and what she is, and I love her for loving my boy.