"I am Michelle Nelson, and I can do hard things."

***Disclaimer: This is not one of my typical posts. I generally try to stay away from writing anything overly personal that exposes me too much, and mainly just stick to the silly, mundane, frequently meaningless things of life (i.e. tea, bangs, killing plants, clubs, shoes, cats, plastic containers, you get the point), but this one. This one is intensely personal. I don't write this to talk about "woe is me," or to show off and say look at me! Look what I did! But rather, I write this, and post it to articulate what I have gradually come to realize what I have learned, and to publicly express my love and gratitude that is all but bursting at my seems right now. I feel extremely vulnerable in posting this, and I'm a little scared to do so, thus please just be sensitive to my insecurities. In fact, you don't even have to feel obligated to comment in the tiny weensiest way. :) Now, let's carry on.

I can't say I've loved this past year. I can't even say I liked it. I surely can't say I would do it again if given the chance, and I definitely can't say I never considered giving up, dropping everything, and downright quitting. There were days where the only thing I could think about was putting one foot in front of the other. There were days where just getting out of bed was accomplishment enough. There were days where I found myself longing to get hit by a passing car on my way to school rather than face another day. There were days I found myself in a state of complete numbness, feeling absolutely nothing, just droning on and on, doing what I had to do, emotionless, entirely dull, entirely deadened. On the hand, there were countless nights I cried myself into a restless sleep, drenching my once white pillowcase with stains of mascara and smears of tears. I frequently found myself staring at the piles of books and things I had to do, responsibilities I had to face, tears streaming down my face, feeling utterly conquered, wondering if this is who I was now, and not liking it. Was I really as robotic and lifeless as I felt? Could I really not handle the simple tasks Heavenly Father had placed in front of me? Had I really lost the hope and knowledge I once had that I really could carry all that was on my plate? My life really wasn't that hard. It was pretty great, and yet I felt overwhelmed. I felt cracking pressure. I felt lost. I felt inadequate to the deepest level. I felt let down, by others as well as myself. I felt depressed. I felt the weight of the world bearing down on my shoulders, compressing me, suffocating me. I felt broken.

But the atonement is real.

Just by the sheer act of not giving up, and putting one foot in front of the other, I was showing faith, the only way in which I knew how. Unbeknownst to me, I was giving God something to work with--some level of forward motion for him to help me through, even if the only thing I could muster was the tiniest of shuffles. He was able to turn it into something significant as I felt the gradual helping and healing power of the atonement take its affect. My burden was never removed, or not even necessarily ever eased, but because I didn't quit, and because I kept moving forward, the Savior was able to mold me, and change me into somebody that could carry the burden. Looking back, all along the way, I may have been bearing my burden myself, but Jesus Christ was bearing me up. I was being held all along as I carried on with such a heavy heart so much of the time, but being blessed all along with tender mercies poured all along my path. Although they did not lighten my load, they made me just ever so slightly strong enough that I could bear everything else and keep moving forward, allowing Christ to continue to change me into the person he needs me to be.

Despite my feelings of being conquered and overcome, and my feelings of sheer despair and insufficiency, I also felt the sense of being inundated with love, and watched my life become enriched with the fullness of some of the greatest blessings I have ever experienced. All those days in which all I could see was the gloom and rain of the world drowning me were really the down pouring of blessings gone unrecognized. People all along my way lifted me up, encouraged me, whether they knew it or not. Lifelong friendships were established who literally and figuratively saved me throughout the year. My path was paved time and time again, guiding me in the right direction, and as I ventured out with trembling nerves with the intention to make a difference and change the lives of those I work with, I have found that in reality, they are the ones that have changed mine. My life has been impacted by the sincerity, sweetness, and genuine-ness of the souls harbored and trapped in disabled bodies I was blessed to interact with, along with the love, devotion, and earnestness of their caregivers in ways in which words cannot describe. Without knowing, they have supported me, pushed me, produced me with motivation, given me purpose to carry on, and have changed me for the better in ways that I could not have been changed any other way. 

It may have been a rough year, but so much good has sprouted from it as well, and although I would not do it all over again given the chance, I would neither exchange my experiences I've had for anything. My dad once told me, "I have never looked back at school and said 'That was fun'. There were fun moments.... Some of the friends made and experiences enjoyed and/or endured were precious or instructive beyond measure. It was a unique time when we could do things next to impossible now. But fun...... Look for those moments. They are precious." At the time I thought he was crazy. I couldn't understand how the pressure I felt could be viewed in such a way, but I think I get it now.

Although I can't say I look on the past year with joy, delight, and bliss, I can say it was one of the richest times of my life, where I felt stretched and have grown in leaps and bounds as I witnessed the love my Father in Heaven has for me as well as for even the lowliest of his children. Through the thick and the thin, he was constant. He was there. Although I cannot say I know what's in store in the coming years, I do know that there will be challenges, many of which even harder, bigger, and quite frankly, better, and I can say that I will be able to come out conqueror through those as well, hopefully as a bigger person than going in, because, as my mom has known all too well and tried to drill into me from the time I was 12, "I am Michelle Nelson, and I can do hard things."