We had to write out our testimonies or our view on life and it was so wonderful and spiritual and ahhh, I love it.
So I thought I'd share. I want to share with whoever reads this the true and amazingness of the Gospel and how it can help you even at your most weakest points. I am on such a spiritual high right now. I love it!
My family, all generations since the beginning of time have been born and raised in Ecuador where the main religion that everyone practices is Catholicism. The funny thing was that a majority of those that claimed to be Catholic didn't even attend. Growing up and attending those few times to services from what I remember was strange. Church was supposed to feel spiritual, right? I only felt nothing. It was like attending any social gathering, there was nothing special about it. Then my parents decided it would be better for us, my brother and me, if they went to the United States and tried to build up a better life for us. So they went and started to work. My dad in landscaping and my mom started a small cleaning business of her own cleaning other people's houses. My brother and I were left in the care of my dad's parents while they were away. That is where I remember some of the hardest years being at. My brother and I suffered a lot with them. Finally we were brought to the US to live with our parents and I truly thought life would changed and it did solely through my mom's decision to open the door to some tall strangers that were getting soaked in the rain. I've been a member of the church for about 9 years now. At first when I was baptized at age 10, I didn't know what I was getting into. I felt like I was just being dragged along by my mom's own decision to join the church. For years I tried really hard to gain a testimony of my own and it wasn't much time until I experienced the hardest trial of my life that to this day seems like the hardest burden to bear sometimes. I don't exactly remember at what point it happened. All I remember was waking up one day and not being able to move my arm like the other one. As time progressed I got weaker and weaker on the left side of my body. My left hand was always tense and tight. It wouldn't stretch out like the other hand. My left foot got weak as well. I started limping and unable at times to walk without tripping over my own feet. My mom noticed and took me to the doctor. That is where everything changed, where my testimony, the testimony I was looking for, appeared. That point of my life was where I suffered with the constant question of "Why me?" We went from doctor to doctor finding an explanation for this strange occurrence that sprang up out of the blue. We traveled all over New York trying to find the right answer. I had CT scans and MRI scans of my brain performed and we took them to neurologists to hear what they saw in the scans and their opinions, but most doctors said the same, that what I was experiencing was from a possible tumor in my brain. In the scans they saw a strange colored area and that's what they thought, that it was a tumor. I remember sitting outside the office door listening to the doctor speak with my parents and hearing the doctor say that I could remain paralyzed for the rest of my life in the event that they took out the tumor. I was scared, so scared. All my hopes and dreams for the future seemed to fly out the window as I heard those words. We went to another doctor for a last opinion and found out there was no tumor at all, but rather a blood vessel rupture from an injury I received when I was little that caught up with me years later. I think about it and think to myself, something must have happened to me when I was living with my grandparents. They were really abusive after all so something they did to me could have triggered that rupture, which I'm sure about. Immediately after finding out the correct diagnosis I was sent everywhere. Physical therapy, occupational therapy, surgeons to see if they could do anything to possibly correct my hand weakness. I went from doctor to doctor and I felt exhausted and fed up. I just wanted to be like everyone else, being able to be normal for once. I saw myself different from others and felt like some sort of mutant. I felt distant from everyone and drew myself away from everyone for this reason. I went through school constantly feeling like this. I went from being a loud, super outgoing, talkative person to someone who was very cautious and unable to trust anyone. Did they know what was going on with me? Did they know? Do they think I'm a freak? Fear of rejection because of my problem turned me anti-social and shy. I had to wear a foot brace on my leg to help me set my heel straight when I walked, and I still do to this day. I felt like an outcast everyday and wished this wasn't happening to me. What did I do to receive this? It wasn't until I was in my mid teen years that I slowly began to understand that the Lord didn't just give me this trail to make my life hard, but to chasten me. In my blessing it says that I was one of His most valiant soldiers. At church I've always heard the saying that the Lord gives the hardest battles to His strongest soldiers. That was how I chose to see this trial I was going through. If the Lord gave me this, I'm able and strong enough to get through it. Going through this for almost all my life has truly been a blessing in disguise. I find myself being able to see the true spirit of others when I associate with them. I don't see just the physical and their appearance. Through getting to know them, I see their true inner beauty and the sweetness of their spirit. I can see how special they are to the Lord, I can feel it. Through getting over my own physical limitations and accepting myself the way I am, I have come to better appreciate inner beauty and to judge others on their character rather than by what they look like. Family life was hard too. My dad hated that we went to Church. He wanted us to remain Catholic with him. It angered him that we couldn't go out on Sundays with him, that my mom changed her attitude about his problems with tobacco and alcohol, and that we believed things that he saw as outrageous. We tried to get him to understand what being Mormon was about, but he refused to accept what the missionaries taught him. His heart grew cold and bitter and he went off on his own doing whatever he wanted. He got drunk on weekends, got mad at everything, and came up with the cruelest things to say to my mom, blaming her and saying that her new church was destroying the family. Everything bad that happened around the house, he seemed to put blame on the church. I felt alone. My parents were constantly fighting and I hated it. I wanted that family that I always saw at church; happy and loving. I wanted my dad to have the priesthood and able to give me blessings. I wanted to see my dad dressed in a suit blessing the sacrament or standing up and giving a talk. I wanted to hear his testimony of the church, but most of all I wanted to be able to go to the temple with my family and be sealed together for all eternity. I always had a hopeful heart that my dad would change and accept the truthfulness of the Gospel, but he never did. As time passed on and my dad went farther and farther away from us, the family I had was breaking apart. Then my dad just left. He found someone else and decided to what seemed to me discard of us like we were yesterday's news. I felt completely unwanted and unloved by the man that was supposed to be one of my best friends. The man that I would look to when looking for my own husband one day, but that man didn't exist. I had my mom of course, she had enough love for me and my siblings that my dad was never able to provide, but that wasn't the same as a father's love. Sometimes trials are given to us that we feel we can't handle, but we must remember that the Lord knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows we can do it. I have learned that I shouldn't let my condition keep me from enjoying life. If I'm judged by others because of me being the way I am, then they aren't supposed to be part of my life if they can't accept me the way I am and love me for me. Working out became my proof that I can do things like others despite my condition. I taught myself to run despite my leg weakness, how to dance and move around, and to lift weights; not heavy ones, but enough to makes my arms stronger. Working out has given me the opportunity to strengthen those weak areas as well as give me that confidence I had lost, but most importantly, the Lord has given me the most strength, strength that not even the most intense workout can give you. He has been there for me always and I've sometimes never realized it. He has been there for me to reassure me that everything is going to be alright. He has blessed me with amazing friends and the most amazing mother. She is the greatest example in my life and my best friend. All her sacrifices for me and my siblings are very inspiring and also give me the strength I need during hard times. Every experience in my life, both good and bad has made me into the strong woman I am today. I may have my moments of weakness, but I bring myself up again. Despite not having the family I always dreamed of now with my siblings and mom, I know in my heart that I will get that someday. I look forward to the day when I meet my eternal companion accepts me the way I am and loves me for me. I look forward to the day when I get married, sealed to each other and our future children. I can't wait to become a mother and raise my kids in the home I never had; in a home centered on the teachings of Christ, but most of all I can't wait till the day I get to see my Heavenly Father face to face and being able to thank him for everything he has ever done for me and for giving me these experiences that have made my testimony grow. I can't wait till the day when he embraces me and tells me that I did it, that I passed the test by enduring till the end. "Well done thy good and faithful servant. Enter ye into My rest"
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