I hadn't planned on sharing this on my blog, but felt impressed I needed to.
For years I have felt like I needed to write my story and submit it to the Ensign (a magazine for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints). I kept putting it off for various reasons. Last year I had a paper to write for an English class and decided it was the perfect excuse to have to finally write my story, but once again I put off sending it in. Then, this past winter I decided to go for it. I shortened my story to fit the word count that was needed and submitted it. I was contacted in May and told a condensed version of my story would appear in the September 2019 Ensign, digital version only. I admit I was very scared for my story to be out there for the world to read. I hope that maybe my words can help someone who is going through something hard. I hope they can see that they are not alone, and they will be given the strength and peace to get though whatever they encounter, because of our loving Heavenly Father and Savior.
To view the article on line go to lds.org and click on magazines, the Ensign (September 2019) and it's on the left hand side. It can also be accessed through LDS tools on your phone.
Digital Only: Come, Follow Me—New Testament
September 2–8 (1 Corinthians 15:22)
Finding Peace after Losing My Son
The author lives in Utah, USA.
A grieving mother finds solace in the doctrine that “in Christ shall all be made alive” again.
The Lott family, with Ryan standing next to his father
Photographs courtesy of the author
Ryan was bigger than the average 14-year-old boy. He had passed me in height and weight a long time ago and loved to remind me of this. He drew people to him with his lovable, teddy-bear personality.
One morning, we had our family prayer before school, and the kids were off. A little later, I received a phone call. The lady on the line was frantic. She told me Ryan had had a seizure (so she thought) and that I was to come immediately. While heading to the school, I called my husband, Mike, who was out of town on business, to explain what was happening.
A feeling of peace came over me.
I was met in the school lobby by a woman who dragged me through the hall. My precious son lay on the floor of his classroom, seemingly lifeless, with the paramedics bent over him. He had experienced cardiac arrest. I watched in shock, a daze. I knew Ryan needed a priesthood blessing and found two schoolteachers who were also worthy priesthood holders to bless him before we left in the ambulance. A feeling of peace came over me, and I knew everything would be okay.
Ryan was eventually flown to Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City. I will never forget the dazed look in his eyes. He wasn’t the Ryan I remembered from a few hours before. We learned from the doctors that, previously unknown to us, Ryan had a heart condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, a thickening of the heart muscle.
My parents came to the hospital, and my dad gave Ryan a sweet priesthood blessing that promised he would fully recover. I brushed Ryan’s soft, curly hair and washed his face with a warm washcloth. There wasn’t much I could do, but I wanted to help.
A few days later, with Mike now at my side, we were told an MRI revealed that Ryan had severe, irreparable brain damage due to the lack of oxygen when he suffered the cardiac arrest. I collapsed into Mike’s arms when the doctor gave us the news. How could this be? My father had given Ryan a blessing that he would fully recover. Why was this happening?
I prayed that my will would align with God’s.
Ryan remained in critical condition as his body was shutting down; he didn’t have much time left with us. Consumed with grief and overwhelmed by what lay before us, Mike and I went to the temple. Before we left the hospital, our kind doctor counseled me never to second-guess the answer I received because someday I would have to rely on that peace again.
Our experience in the celestial room was simple and sacred. I prayed that my will would align with God’s, and the Spirit brought an overwhelming sense of peace. We knew without a doubt that the Lord’s will was being fulfilled. Ryan was needed elsewhere. His full recovery, as promised in that blessing, would not take place in this life. His physical body would be made whole and restored but not until the Resurrection, an event made possible because of Jesus Christ. I can never deny the Spirit that confirmed this to us. As Mike and I left the temple, we felt the Savior’s enabling power giving us strength to accept God’s will, carrying us in our time of need.
I pleaded for the Spirit to walk with me.
Eleven days after Ryan’s arrival at the hospital, our children each said goodbye to him, and we took our last family picture through tears and forced smiles. Later, Mike and I were alone at Ryan’s bedside. As I held Ryan’s hand, I pleaded with my Heavenly Father for His Spirit to be with me. When Ryan slipped from this life and was welcomed home, it was a peaceful yet sorrowful moment for us.
The Lott family, with photograph of Ryan held by a sister
As time has passed, I have never been angry with my Heavenly Father. I know that when our prayers aren’t answered in the way we hope, that is when our faith needs to be stronger than ever, enabling us to accept the Lord’s will.
I will always miss Ryan, but I know that I will be with him again someday. I look forward to that joyous reunion, when I can see him whole and well again, when I can embrace him, feel his curly hair on my fingertips, look into his sparkling eyes, and hear him once again point out how much taller he is than me. I can’t wait to tell him how much I love him and how honored I am to be his mother.
The priesthood blessing given by my father will be fulfilled. Ryan will recover fully as promised. As he waits for that glorious day, I know he is happy, healthy, and free from the harm and trials of this world. I will be forever grateful for this gift of peace Heavenly Father has given me.
