Recognizing God's Hand in my Life

There's an often-used saying that goes along the lines of "God is always there for you." I have always liked to confide in that statement, but there have been some moments in my past where I strongly doubted it. In my moments of frustrated hopelessness, I remember feeling like God had abandoned me, that He cared about His other children more than me, and that He didn't even love me. I could not see any signs of God when I visited dysfunctional families living off of tortillas because they had nothing else. I couldn't see His hand when I counted up my numbers after a day of missionary work, and not reaching the goals even though we tried so so so hard to. I couldn't see Him when disobedient missionaries kept baptizing tons of people while I would go for months without even a progressing investigator even though I kept even the smallest of rules. I wondered where God's "perfect" plan had gone. To me, it seemed like it only existed in Utah, or my hometown, where the church was actually functional and we didn't have to worry about half the bishopric going inactive along with the relief society president. In this 2nd world country, where our dumpy apartment was ritzy compared to the homes of everyone we taught, where I came across boxes of abandoned puppies so new they were still blind, where dogs roamed the halls of dirty hospitals or lay flattened and left to rot in the street, and a "normal" family was not the norm and poverty was, I wondered where God was. When I entered houses literally made of trash, had companions that I definitely did not get along with, lived with bats and mice, heard vulgarities yelled on my behalf, had a baptism fall through the week it was planned, or my "golden" convert go apostate, I began to doubt the things I'd been taught.

At this time, I did not recognize I suffered from a mental illness. I just knew that the "wonderful" mission I'd grown up idolizing was a complete 180 degrees from what I had expected. And when the suicidal thoughts got worse, well, you can imagine that I felt like my Heavenly Father would want nothing to do with me.

How wrong I was.

Flash forward a few months. I am back at Y in "fairy tale land" (let me tell you, it was a culture shock to be back at BYU) and I most surprisingly receive the call to be one of the Gospel Doctrine teachers in a ward of the church that I was brand new in and knew hardly a soul. When I was set apart for my calling, in the blessing the Counselor setting me apart instructed me to look for God's hand in my life each day, and I would happy. The guy had no idea I had depression, so I knew it was something my Heavenly Father had prompted him to say.

After that, I took more effort to recognize the good things that happened each day. And I noticed, that I indeed was getting happier. And I began to realize how involved God was in my life. And I dared to look back on my mission sometimes...and surprisingly saw His hand interwoven amidst my trials. I saw His hand in my mission presidents, who loved me as a parent, and who I loved as their child, which dared to make me doubt my doubts that God didn't love me. I felt His hand when I read the Book of Mormon or other scriptures and would read something that seemed too perfect for me to learn and know. He was there in the priesthood blessings I received...in leaders that didn't conform to their disobedient peers and made me proud to know them. I saw His hand in loving people that embraced me and didn't judge me when I really had a meltdown. I saw Him in the breathtaking sunsets that only Paraguay can claim. I saw Him in the beautiful natural beauties that weren't tainted with hundreds of billboards and man-made lawns. I felt it when I saw my "brothers" (the Elders I arrived with to Paraguay) at zone conferences and felt a bond with them that I have never felt before nor since, or when I would get a letter from someone that would say just what I needed.

I challenge you to look for God's hand in your life. No matter what you are going through, He is there. Somewhere. He's in the details. I honestly say, that if His hand had not been in my life, I probably would have gave in to my poisonous thoughts and jumped in front of a speeding bus when I wouldn't have been able to take any more. God is there. He lets us struggle, often for reasons that I just don't know or understand, but He is there. And He loves you so so so much. If you doubt, I dare you to ask Him, and He will show you in some small way that He is deeply aware of you and your needs and your struggles.
God lives. So does His Son ,Jesus Christ, who loves us just as much.

I testify of that. Without a doubt.