His Warmth, His Light
A Story of Faith Written by Teniesha Williams
When I was a young teenage girl, I don’t remember having a real connected knowledge of what the words “eternal perspective” meant to me. I was full of life and energy (too much most of the time). I loved to live and dance! I learned early on that some of the best medicine for my overwhelming energy and overactive mind was to move. This created a space for confidence and joy, as well as a release for mental and emotional health.
As I grew, I always had a strong desire to be faithful in the gospel of Christ, but most of us learn as we grow and I was no different. Time has a way of creating and encouraging us to jump into the process, and if we are open, we discover the real learning and joy is woven into our dependence upon God and His gospel.
I got married a lot later in life than I expected. I remember as a young girl having dreams of marrying someone who loved me deeply and truly for all eternity with no thought of future hiccups.
Throughout my youth I experienced a lot of insecurities and low self esteem. Who knows where some of these feelings were rooted, but it was a source of weakness I saw in myself and I felt compelled to fix it. Most of the time the “fixing” was an exerted individual effort, without realizing God was trying to offer His hand in all of it. I used my talent and gift of dance and movement for expression and It increased my confidence from the outside. At the time, I was unaware of how it was a tool and gift of light from Heaven to help me through heartache.
I married a wonderfully, golden soul of a man, one I had known since my childhood, and fell in love with him in the most unlikely of circumstances. My husband had a past of struggling with the disease of addiction and had been through a lot. I was not naive to the daily effort he would have to put forth in order to maintain his already 4 year sobriety. This decision was one of diligent study and prayer despite the concern and doubt from so many on the outside of our relationship.
In time I knew I wanted to be married to this good man and we were wed on June 1st of 2013 only to have my husband relapse in July of 2013. He was no longer the same clear headed soul I had married a month prior, but a man burdened with chains that I had no way to unlock.
I felt deceived, heartbroken, and mostly scared when I found out I was pregnant a month later. How would I be healthy enough to raise our gift of a daughter? Facing life in blindsiding circumstances stirred much anxiety and despair within my mind and heart. I spent so much time pleading to God for the answers that would lead me to make the right decisions for my little family. I had hopes of being able to “fix” my husband, who was just as powerless as I was to release him from the chains of this life altering disease. I would spend the next 3 years crumbling into the arms of the Savior to hold me and allow me to find strength in times I felt alone in the dark.
One who suffers with the disease of addiction tends to isolate themselves from those they love the most. They avoid and escape reality to not have to feel the inner struggle that comes with the battle. Oftentimes, those that are living with a loved one with addiction can take on the same symptoms even without the disease. I too was isolated, I was afraid and full of shame and pride in so many ways. I didn’t fill my life with the gifts that God had made me aware of earlier in my life. I felt darkness and yet even so, there were moments of hope and light through friends, neighbors and my husband’s testimony of Christ that he never lost despite his trial.
I was however still missing how to utilize the divine power to release the pain I was stuffing beneath everything just to survive. We faced much opposition together, individually, and as a family. So often I was not seeing how God would use all of this to mold and create changes in me that would affect me and others for the rest of my life.
In March of 2016, I would answer that phone call that no one wants to receive, my husband lost his earthly battle to the disease of addiction. He was gone. The widows fog set in and for the next few months I was still in survival mode. Moments of tears and pain were there but I was still stuffing those feelings down, moving on as best I could and fighting to understand what I needed to be doing in order to take care of my little family. I wasn’t yet welcoming the grief that so fully needed to be freed from me.
One afternoon about 6 to 8 months after my husband’s passing, I was in my home alone. My parents had our daughter and I was taking some time at home to clean up and get organized. In the process of sweeping the floor, I felt an inner nudge from the Spirit telling me to turn on some music. Now music has not been a huge part of my everyday for the last couple of years because of the way it can surface so many different emotions. I tried to ignore the nudge but the spirit was not giving up. I finally listened. I turned on the music and I started dancing. This was the first time in a long time that I had allowed myself to do so.
As I started dancing and moving to the song just for me, I felt every emotion that I had ever been hiding or holding on to from the very beginning. I felt pain, I felt anger, I felt heartache, and desperation. I sobbed, and I sobbed, and I yelled, and I screamed and even laughed in moments. At the end of that three minute song I was nothing but a weeping child in the middle of the floor, but the overwhelming relief that came over me will never be adequate for any description. I felt the arms of the Savior envelope me. I felt His warmth and His light. I felt him reassuring me and telling me that I always had the power to release the pain, the grief and heartache that we all hold in times of trial and disappointment but I just now opened myself up to allow all of those emotions to be felt. The one thing that I’ll never forget about that moment was that I knew, Rhet, my husband was smiling. He wasn’t smiling for him, he was smiling because I was finally doing something that made me happy, that brought me joy, that brought me confidence and brought me closer to the Savior.
Where would we be without opposition? What would we learn without utilizing vulnerability to be open to the growth that God/The Light has to give us? I often find myself asking the questions, why is opposition so hard? Why are we to face heartache, rejection, emotional and mental anguish, and loss? As I reflect, I discover the growth I have made and the emotional, spiritual and mental strength that has taken root and flourished into knowledge and understanding. What a blessing the journey and the process is, to cling onto Him who is so willing and ready to direct and console. Living loss gives me understanding and reliance on His light. It is because of this light that I feel joy and motivation to move forward safely in His hands.
Finding myself in the trials and heartaches of life keeps me dependent upon God. Feeling safety in His hands is not always just a motion of asking, most of the time it is a mission of faith.
