For the Broken Vessels

“Though we may feel we are “like a broken vessel,” as the Psalmist says, we must remember, that vessel is in the hands of the divine potter.  Broken minds can be healed just the way broken bones and broken -hearts are healed.  While God is at work making those repairs, the rest of us can help by being merciful, nonjudgmental, and kind” (Elder Jeffrey R. Holland.)

My 20^th birthday was spent in a bed.  Not because I was lazy, not because I was sleepy, but because I was sick and it hurt too much to move.  I am so blessed so I'm not trying to complain, but needless to say it was not the pleasantest of birthdays and since that day I can see that my illness has aged me. 

Loud noises make me cringe, large gatherings make me tired, I prefer to stay at home than not, and sometimes I wish there weren’t quite so many party invitations to turn down.  Some people might think my six months of professional treatment should’ve been enough, that it is time to snap out of it and move on, but I guess they would be wrong.  Seven months from the time I became ill I may look better, feel better, do more, and say more, but my mind and body are still in “recovery” mode.

There are still a few restless nights, still a few days of fatigue.  There are still moments when I feel like a “broken vessel” and I wish that someone would fix me.  Those moments don’t come too often anymore, but they come.  Most people try to understand, but I know it is hard.  I don’t like being broken either.

In Spanish there are two forms of “to be:” estar and ser.  Estar is a temporary condition and ser is a more permanent characteristic.  I would say, “Estoy enferma”—I am sick—not “Soy enferma.”  It wouldn’t make sense.  So at least according to Spanish grammar my illness is not a part of my permanent characteristics, a distinction for which I am grateful.  Although truthfully sometimes I feel like it is.  It affects my personality, my participation and ability to function in normal social settings, my level of independence.  It affects everything in body and mind and I am not always the same.

I consider my problems to be very minor.  I know there are millions who suffer pain beyond my comprehension.  I consider those with cancer, clinical depression, paralysis, and so many other very serious afflictions whether they be physical, mental or spiritual, and I wonder if sometimes we view their condition in terms of “ser” or “estar.”  Because whatever ailments our loved ones suffer from, it is not a permanent condition. One day they will be healed and perfect.  For myself I forget it sometimes.  I was reminded the other day by one of Elder Jeffrey R. Holland’s talks, “We are infinitely more than our limitations or our afflictions.”  That is such a comfort to me for my own sake and especially for the sake of millions of others who are afflicted with heavier burdens than mine.

I am so grateful for the divine gift of Jesus Christ’s Atonement that will heal all of the “broken vessels” whether it is in body, mind, or spirit.  I am grateful that those who suffer from all manner of infirmities will be able to stand perfected and glorified at the resurrection.  I am grateful for all of the wonderful examples around me who bear their afflictions with so much strength, faith, and humility, and I am especially grateful for Jesus the Christ who has felt my pain and redeemed my soul.  What a blessing it is to know that He wants me and everyone else, broken or not.