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It’s often said that sad news comes in bunches. I guess that’s another way of saying: “When it rains, it pours.”  Although my personal immediate family is safe and warm, for my relatives and friends—it has been pouring. On the same morning I heard from my dear married friends that his mother had passed away from cancer, I also heard that my cousin’s wife had passed away that morning as well—also of cancer. It was his 2nd wife. His first wife also left this world early—due to cancer. My other cousin, from Boise, has been living at Primary Children’s Hospital after discovering her newborn son was born with only half a heart. He has a 50% chance of survival, and two more surgeries scheduled in the coming months.

As my dear ones feel pain, grief, worry, and sadness, I could only ponder this week on the purpose of our lives here on earth. It was a rather solemn, reflective week for me, realizing how quickly life can change, or even be taken away.  My daily morning ritual of pressing the snooze button and reading the local news on my smart phone consisted of tears when the stories didn’t have happy endings. (Which is the majority of news).  I didn’t know those in the articles, but the stories seemed more real, and more close to home, and I imagined the pain of the victims’ families.

But it was this week that I also drew closer to my Savior, as I searched for answers for my loved ones that were hurting. It is during those times of pouring rain that I find such strength in Christ’s promise to us of Everlasting life, eternal families, and the Plan of Salvation.

We’ve had some incredible interviews on The Cultural Hall. Del Parson, Mormon artist famous for his numerous paintings, including Christ in the Red Robe, was a wonderful guest. He talked to us about a tragedy in his life. Below it is written in his words:

“One morning, about a year after finishing that painting, an Indian placement student staying at our home missed the school bus. My wife volunteered to take her to school. She also took our young children along so I could get some work done. At the time, we had three children, a five-year-old girl, Chancy, a three-year-old boy, Broc, and a nine month old baby girl, Sara.

Joycel was gone longer than expected, and I began thinking it was a little strange. Just as I had reassured myself that she had gone shopping, the telephone rang. It was the police dispatcher notifying me that an officer would be at my door shortly. Soon an officer came to the door and said, “I have some bad news. Your wife has just been killed in a car accident.”

Nothing could have hit me harder. Here was the woman that I worshipped, who was with me through some unbelievably tough times, and who supported me all the way. I remember a time she posed for about three months for a painting – hour after hour sitting there staring at a brick wall in our apartment. She was the perfect wife and mother of my children.

Now she was dead! I almost collapsed. I wanted to be alone. I left the officer standing in the doorway and went in the other room and wept. After a while, the officer said, “Hey, pull yourself together. You have some very hurt children.”

I don’t remember how I got to the hospital, but upon arrival, I was taken to see my wife. I remember seeing her lying there. It was just a lifeless body – she was gone. I was taken to our children. Two were unconscious, and the third had a broken leg. Of the whole experience, this was the most difficult thing for me, seeing my children there, wiggling, unconsciously jerking all over the place. It was extremely painful, the most horrible experience I have ever had.

I gave my children priesthood blessings, blessing my five-year-old Chancy, the most seriously injured, that she might live. I knew at the time it was the wrong thing to do, but it was what I wanted so badly. I had just lost my precious wife, and here was a child whom I loved more than anything – I just wanted her to live.

My father came to see me and when he arrived I knew I had to give Chancy another blessing. This time I blessed her, “thy will be done.” She died a few hours later.

The death of my wife and child was the most terrible experience of my life. But unexpectedly, it was during this time that I also had the most wonderful experience of my life. After Chancy died, I left the hospital alone. As I was walking, everything suddenly started becoming golden – like a diving light. I felt love – just pure love. I felt as though the Holy Ghost had wrapped his arms around me. I’ve never felt more love in my life. My whole body was on fire, and to this day, I’ve never felt happier.

The Holy Ghost was there for me. He’s called the Comforter, and I know why that’s true. For a period of time it just seemed like I was filled with the Spirit of God, and I was taught many things. Many questions I had always had about the church were plainly answered. But, more than anything, I came to know the Comforter and the great love that the Lord has for me. I came to know the pure love of Christ.”

                                                                                    -Del Parson

(For the full story you can visit www.delparson.com, and also listen to Del share about this experience on his Cultural hall episode).

 

In the end, I don’t know what to tell those who are suffering. Everyone experiences the pain of loss in different ways.  I only hope that the arms of the Savior will wrap around them, and they will feel the love, and the comfort of the atonement, and of a Father in Heaven who loves them. For me, there is no greater comfort than this.

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