This is part of my series on spiritual experiences and mental illness.
All my life, I’ve been sensitive to the Spirit and I’ve had some marvelous experiences. I’ve also had some promptings that turned out to be wrong.
For example, on the plane on the way home from my mission, I got a strong prompting that I would marry one specific elder because he was the only one spiritually strong enough to match me. (Look, I’d noticed that I was different and off-putting, more spiritual than most, maybe too spiritual.) Once we were home, I wrote him a letter — just a friendly ‘hi how are you’ type of letter. I didn’t mention a prompting. He never wrote me back. I was briefly sad, but rationalized that the prompting was probably not really a prompting. After all, I’d gotten the prompting while watching the in-flight movie on the way home from my mission. I hadn’t yet been released as a missionary, and so watching the in-flight movie was a sin. Of course I wouldn’t get a real prompting while sinning! Duh! I was glad I hadn’t embarrassed myself by mentioning the prompting to anyone else. Besides sinning, it was probably also wishful thinking. With some time and perspective, it was easy to write that one off as a product of my subconscious.
During the same span of years that I wrote about in my previous post, God’s Love; God’s Anger, I got another strong prompting. One of my children was going to die. I was furious with this prompting. It wasn’t fair! All the other challenges I’d faced in my relationships, and I had to go through this one too?!? Not cool, God, not cool at all. But the prompting kept coming. For months, I fought it. I cried and stormed and rejected it. All to no avail. One morning, I knelt in prayer and said to God, “Thy will be done.” I was immediately flooded with peace. I knew I would be supported through the trial of my child’s death.
I didn’t know which child would die until some months later. As I finished a temple session, passed through the veil, and entered the Celestial Room, I suddenly and calmly knew that it would be my youngest child, and he would die before he reached the age of accountability. The story of Hannah giving Samuel to the Lord came strongly to my mind. Heavenly Father wanted this child back in heaven, and who was I to say no? Hannah gave Samuel away; God wasn’t asking me to do anything that other mothers hadn’t done. I felt so much peace. Even as I grieved, I felt peace and God’s love.
This revelation changed my parenting. My youngest was my easiest child by far (meaning he needed me less). I intentionally started to savor every interaction with him. I didn’t want any regrets once he was gone — like yelling at him, or telling him ‘no’ too often. This mellowed my parenting for his older siblings too. If he was going to die before he was eight years old, then at most, I only had about five years with him. We needed as many happy memories as possible. I did my best.
I went back through my journals for this time period and found a couple of beautiful promptings that I recorded, like this one: “Thoughts of [Child] dying have resurfaced a lot these past few days. It comes mixed with the sad comfort that if he does die, I would know for sure that I would have at least one family member in the Celestial Kingdom. I would miss him so much. Every so often, [Child] asks questions about dying or about seeing Jesus again. His siblings never do that.”
A few years after the initial prompting, I felt that I should buy life insurance on him to pay for his funeral. I was still out of work, and so was his father. I certainly wasn’t going to ask for any help from my family. I wanted to be able to have a decent funeral. I bought a life insurance policy on him for enough to cover funeral expenses plus about three months of our living expenses. The premium was $20 per month.
Then … he turned eight years old. By this time, I was done with Church and didn’t really want to baptize him. He wanted to be baptized though. So we baptized him. The prompting specifically told me that he would die in his innocent years. I had prayed about that many times over the years and that conviction never faltered. I was puzzled that he was still here. (Despite getting fed up with Church, I still believed in my connection to Heavenly Father and all the revelations I’d gotten over the years.) Though I wrote about it in my journal frequently, I only ever told two people about that prompting. I never told him, of course not! This was one of those things that I kept sacred, like Mary did after the shepherds came to see the Christ child. Luke 2:19: “But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.”
When he was 12 years old, after paying monthly premiums for six years, I finally cancelled the life insurance. I’ve still never told him about this.
What happened to my spirituality? My personal revelations? All those other times I’d gotten guidance that was inspired and correct? Basically, WTF God? The revelation that my child would die wasn’t an easily dismissed momentary thought, like the one about marrying an elder from my mission. This one persisted for YEARS, and was constantly reaffirmed. Prayer and fasting, the extra revelation in the temple about which child and when he would die, the peace I felt when I surrendered to the idea that my child would die, the prompting to buy life insurance so I could pay for his funeral. There was NO difference between how this revelation felt and how all my other revelations felt.
God did not explain himself to me. So we were done. I do not want his advice anymore. Yes, believing my child was going to die made me a better mother, but that was still an epically sucky thing to do to me.
Personal revelation is unreliable. One principle that I took from the book about the military experimenting with paranormal abilities is that that kind of stuff is unreliable. There were some epic experiences that blow your mind. There are also things that are irrelevant or just plain wrong. They all come from the same source and you can only tell the difference in hindsight.
Also, I passed Abraham’s test. I did NOT try to sacrifice my child. Don’t burden your kids with your spirituality and obedience. That’s the lesson I take from Abraham.
[footnote] I hope nothing in this post caused any pain to a parent who has had to deal with the death of a child. If I’ve said something insensitive, please let me know and I’ll change it and apologize.
Questions:
- Do you want to tell a story about a prompting you had that turned out to be wrong?
- Did it cause harm? Or just embarrassment?
- Do (did) you ever talk to anyone about promptings? Do (did) you have any friends or family who tell you about their promptings?
- What’s the current way to excuse God from answering prayers? When I quit attending Church, the platitude was “God always answers prayers! He says yes, no, or I have something better in mind.”
4. What’s the current way to excuse God from answering prayers?
Same excuse, just rebranded: if the prayer is answered, God gets the credit; if it isn’t, God’s timing, wisdom, or a “better plan” gets the credit. There’s no possible outcome that would count as evidence against the claim. It’s a belief system designed to be unfalsifiable, and therefore maintain your interest.