Bishopric Meeting

My dear Bishop and first counselor came over one night unexpectedly. They said they felt they should come. For the first time, when the bishopric has come to my house, I didn't want to come out and talk. I was hurt. I was hurting physically. And I quite honestly was in so much pain that I didn't want to move. However, Thomas insisted.

They asked the normal "how are you doing?" questions. I have learned to respond so everyone is convinced I am okay. I add just enough reality with a dose of hope and people just assume all is well and move on. That is what I was hoping for this night. If I would just do what I had practiced so well over the years, they soon would leave believing I was actually okay.

The questions came, I answered. Some truthfully, if they were not about me or how I was coping, but about me, I gave the "correct" responses.

Then, a question came that I wasn't prepared for. The question threw me so hard that tears fell freely down my face. I could no longer hide behind that deep wall I have built to let others only see the person I want them to see.

Surprisingly, the first counselor responded. He told me that being only in the ward about a year, he didn't know me as well as the rest of the ward did. However, he spoke of different lessons others had learned because of me, how others were strengthened because of me and how he knew he would be unable to handle the road I walk.

I answered that I honestly believe that we chose our journey in the pre-existence and that knowing the big picture, gladly accepted the challenge, knowing the good that would abound from it.

Again, he threw me off course. He asked me the following, "Jerlyn, are you really going to give up now and let the adversary win?" and really without pausing, continued for a while speaking, "The adversary has done all in his power to rob you of your health, your ability to leave your house, to walk, to eat, to keep you so close to death that you give up. He has physically thrown every challenge at you to cause you to crumble with the defeat of your mortal body. Yet, you have stood so strong, in spite of every single challenge presented. You have beat him time and time again.

Because you were beating him so badly, and not only was he losing you, but you have taken so many out of the grasp of his hold. That he despises you. He hates you. He has personally raged war on you.

Now, he is trying to take hold of you emotionally. The struggles and challenges facing you, that have attacked your brain and mind, are just that...another way the adversary is trying to shut you down. He is throwing all his best efforts at you, determined to see you fall.

Jerlyn, after years and years of unparalleled struggles against him, and all of his strikes and punches and fiery darts that you have dodged and endured yet conquered, are you really going to let him win now?"

I was sucker punched. My heart almost stopped. Tears fell and I sobbed.

I asked the most painful and heartfelt question, "But what if I have nothing left to fight with?"

The bishop stepped in, "That is where the Savior comes in. Jerlyn, YOU KNOW THIS! I have watched you fight him over and over for over four years. You have battled one on one with him so directly that most would have crumbled. Yet, you keep fighting him. This may be the fight of your life. But YOU CAN DO THIS! Do not let him win."

By now, my body was almost convulsing, as I tried to hold it together, very unsuccessfully. I HAD to fight. I HAD to fight because there was no way that I was letting the adversary win. I would go down fighting but I would never surrender. I HAD to fight for my son. I HAD to fight for my husband. I HAD to fight for my sister and so many others. The fight MUST be won. And this was something I HAD to face. There was no turning back now. War has been raged. The fight will continue long past my life. But one thing is for certain. He will NOT win. I will! I am on the winning team. My Savior fights with me. And I may be weak and breakable, but my Savior is strong and unyielding.

I knew in that instance that as long as I continue to breathe, my life would be a fight.

Not only would I be in a physical fight to stay alive. I would also spend every breath, every day, every ounce of mental strength to beat the adversary.

Yet, I was also certain, in those moments, that as long as I continued to try, I would not fail, but I would succeed gloriously. I would win this fight. Most likely, the fight will end with my life, but I will win the fight.

I am reminded again, "I still have a lot of fight left in me!" I guess I raise my sword and battle on.