Lesson 2: Mourning the Ifs (aka Whac-a-Mole)

Editor's note: I'll be honest -- this post started out as a rant, became a self-exploration, and ended as a philosophical lesson.  :) I promised myself that I wouldn't use this blog for my random rants and frustrations about life, because if I gave in once, I'd never get back to real blogging about the good things in life -- and there are SO many good things in my life that I would hate to have all of you (as I shout this in to the ether...) think that those good things aren't in my life. So, I make this exception and post this for me, because the end result isn't so bitter as the beginning outline. It's been a cathartic writing experience. Now, on to mourning...

This morning, I have been contemplating earlier than I normally am even conscious. I am looking at the past month of my life and just wondering "What if...?" In this situation with Mark's internship and the university (I will not drudge up every hairy detail here), there have been so many maybes and possiblies, followed later by what ifs and if onlys. When we'd finally come to terms and resigned ourselves to the fact that it just wasn't going to work out, one more thing would come up that would keep it from being a 100% impossibility. And we'd hope, against hope, that maybe this time it would work out. Maybe this person would be in the office at the right time. Maybe this phone call would be the one to make the difference. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

And when that one thing fell through or otherwise didn't work out, we'd move on to the next thing. I, at least, would think in the back of my mind, "What if...?" What if someone had done something differently? What if the timing was different? What if it had been a phone call instead of an email? What if we had just waited one more day...?

Now, the maybes are officially over. No more maybes. So I'm left with what ifs. I've been up for almost an hour now (as this time of day is not typically within my waking hours) with this what ifs, and they're killing me. From the inside out, my very heart and soul are being consumed by the fact that I am playing What-If Whac-a-Mole.

 I smash one, and three more pop up.

I don't know about you, but I have never seen someone win a game of Whac-a-Mole on their own. I've seen "cheaters" (who I prefer to call creative winners) successfully team up with two mallets to take out the moles, but I've never seen a solitary victory. (Mind you, I am not a Whac-a-Mole regular in the least, but I hope you can see what I'm driving at.) Winning always takes help.

With Mark, my usual wonderful therapist, driving across a dead zone (contrary to the Verizon commercials, they do exist) in southern Texas right now, the moles are coming at me, and I've only got my own mallet. Just one. And I'm losing. Or at least I have been until I turned elsewhere for help. An extra mallet in this crazy Whac-a-Mole metaphor.

"I have come to understand how useless it is to dwell on the whys, what ifs, and if onlys for which there likely will be given no answers in mortality. To receive the Lord’s comfort, we must exercise faith. The questions Why me? Why our family? Why now? are usually unanswerable questions. These questions detract from our spirituality and can destroy our faith. We need to spend our time and energy building our faith by turning to the Lord and asking for strength to overcome the pains and trials of this world and to endure to the end for greater understanding."

So, as always, there is help. For me, for you, for anyone. We are never alone. I wish I could say it was as simple as taking up the mallet of faith (because that would be great addition to this crazy metaphor I'm working on here), but I don't think that's what Elder Hales is going for. Instead of asking for help whacking the unanswerable moles, we need to ask for help turning off the machine and walking away, faith to just let the what ifs go. And then we need to busy ourselves with other faith-building pursuits, so, when the moles start taunting from their holes, we're too busy with other good, fruitful things that involve other people, like Skee Ball or Air Hockey, to notice and be drawn back into that futile, nonvictorious world. So now, I'm off to play Air Hockey (unfortunately, still metaphorically...). Anyone want to join me?

Related, suggested reading: Using the Supernal Gift of Prayer