Change: To Us and In Us

Over 211,000 women and 1,700 men are diagnosed with breast cancer each year. That would be approximately the entire population of the city of Scottsdale, Arizona. Unfortunately most of us have been affected by the disease through a diagnosis of a mother, sister, aunt, daughter or friend.

My Aunt Debi lost her battle to cancer two years ago. One of my daughter's most vivid memories is that of curling up on the couch with Aunt Debi and watching "Snow White". That was two weeks before Aunt Debi passed away from breast cancer. As I have reflected on that experience and wondered why it was so impressionable to a three-year old, I realized Chloe felt what all of us who knew Aunt Debi also felt: her love, kindness, and the fact that her world stopped to focus solely on you. When you arrived, she planned a party and you were the "guest of honor. "

Most impressive to me was the way Aunt Debi reacted to the diagnosis, treatment and their subsequent challenges. She never gave up and had a positive attitude. Her strength and eternal perspective are reflected in a sacrament meeting talk she gave only a few weeks before she died. As a tribute to her and all others who have or are living through cancer, may her address give you hope, peace and comfort.

"My remarks today will focus on a single word. Change. But I would like to take the word in a couple of directions. First, the word change as it relates to something that happens to us, and second, the word change as it relates to something that happens in us.

Emily Perl Kingsely cared for her little child who was limited from birth in what he was able to. She wrote "Welcome to Holland."

'I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared the unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this:

When you are going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. Michelangelo’s “David.” The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The flight attendant comes and says, “Welcome to Holland.” “Holland?” you say. “What do you mean, Holland? I signed up for Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.”

But there’s been a change in the flight plans. They’ve landed in Holland, and there you must stay. The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guidebooks. You must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met. It’s just a different place. It’s slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy.

But after you’ve been there awhile and you catch your breath, you look around and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills, Holland has tulips, Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say, “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.”

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever go away, because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss. But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.'

Nothing is so unchanging, so inevitable as change itself. The things we see, touch and feel are always changing. Relationships between friends, husband and wife, father and son, brother and sister are all dynamic, changing relationships. And change can be hard. Change can be rough. I think we sometimes have a tendency to think of change as the enemy and we fight and resist it before we have even discovered what the actual effects of change will be.

Recently, we replaced some carpet in our home. I had brought home a sample and showed it to my husband and that sample sat in the room for over a month. A couple of weeks ago the carpet was laid and as Kirk walked in, I asked "What do you think?" No response. Then finally, "it's different." Now I've know this man a long time and I knew better than to be offended because I knew what he was really saying, "It's not the same as the old carpet. It's not as familiar as the old carpet. I sort of liked the old carpet. It's different."

C.S. Lewis indicated that there is often pain involved in change when he wrote of God's expectation for His children. "Imagine yourself living in a house you love. Then God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what he is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on. You knew those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of-throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage, but He is building a palace."

Yes, there is sometimes pain in change, but there can also be great satisfaction in recognizing that progress is being achieved. Life is a series of hills and valleys and changes and often the best growth comes in the valleys.

It's like the amateur gardener who, when a choice plant became root-bound and began to deteriorate, decided to transplant it into a larger container. Carefully, he lifted the greenery from its small pot and put it into a larger home, trying to disturb the roots and soil as little as possible. And then he watched and waited. To his dismay, the plant still struggled. The amateur expressed his frustration to a more experienced friend who offered his services. When the plant was placed in this man's hands, he turned the pot upside down, pulled out the plant, shook the soil from the roots, and clipped and pulled all the stragglers from the root system. Replacing the plant in the pot, he vigorously pushed the soil tightly around the plant. Soon, the plant took on new life and grew.

How often do we set our own roots into the soil of life and become root-bound? We treat ourselves too gently and defy anyone to disturb the soil or trim back our root system. Under these conditions we too must struggle to make progress. Change is hard. Change can be rough. Change is something that happens not to us but in us.

You know from the Charles Dickens' novel "A Christmas Carol" that Ebenezer Scrooge is a really nasty character who hates everyone and everything except money and who is especially horrible to his employee Bob Crachett. Scrooge eventually gets the unique opportunity to see what the future will bring if he doesn't change his ways. Of course in the end, he does change and ultimately we find that Scrooge has become a much better person, a whole new person really.

The scriptures have a phrase for what happens to people who alter their lives to better serve the Lord. It is called a "change of heart". That kind of change encompasses a person's entire life-thoughts, feelings, desires, actions-literally everything.

If I had a favorite book in the Book of Mormon, it might be the Book of Mosiah where King Benjamin, knowing he is going to die soon, teaches and admonishes his people with words so powerful that every person who hears it experiences an amazing transformation.

Change happens to all of us and then, if we allow it, change happens in us.

The final words of Ebenezer Scrooge on the last page of the book are: "And Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the good old city knew, or any other city or town in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the change in him, but he let them laugh. His own heart laughed; and that was quite enough for him."

About a year ago, I had a plan. I had my map and the directions I thought I would need to get to my destination. I was on a schedule. But three months later, I found myself smack dab in the middle of Holland instead of Italy where I had planned to go. I was sure that there was some huge mistake, because I really was supposed to go to Italy, and I most certainly did not want to be in Holland. But now, thirteen months later, I can honestly tell you that I am enjoying the trip to Holland more than I would ever have believed. It's a different journey than I had planned. I'm seeing new sights. I'm out of my comfort zone. My roots have been shaken and pulled and trimmed and repotted. I also know that there are many who have traveled this road before me and I take great comfort and strength from their courage and encouragement.

How thankful I am for the gospel, for the testimony I have of its truthfulness. I am so thankful for the things which don't change, the answers which stay the same day after day, year after year, lifetime after lifetime. I am especially thankful for our Savior, Jesus Christ, for the redeeming power of His Atonement and for His unconditional, constant and unchanging love for each of us.

The old saying that "change is progress" has taken on a whole new meaning for me. I understand more fully than ever before that repentance is change; conversion is change; perfecting change. I have also come to realize that change is in complete harmony with the desires of my Heavenly Father and that in His plan I am always free to choose how I will respond to the changes that happen to me and eternally free to allow change to happen in me. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Helpful Resources:

http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/wyntk/breast

http://www.breastcancer.org/

http://cms.komen.org/komen/index.htm