More Than We Can Handle
By Susan Law Corpany

What do you do when the cumulative effect of your trials seems too much for you, either in the short term or the long run?

I have struggled at different times in my life not to succumb to the belief that my life was some sort of cosmic joke — that God woke up each morning and said, “What can I do to Susan today?” 

I once almost bought a t-shirt that showed God at his computer, about to hit the “smite” button.  At one point, I had a year in which I was having unidentified health problems, I had been in a car accident, and my husband and I were separated.  (It is time for this oh-so-human columnist to admit to a second marriage that lasted nine years.)  

My son was a teenager and “Just wait until your father gets resurrected!” didn’t hold a lot of sway.  When I got a little much-needed appreciation from my boss at work in the form of a coupon for Outback Steakhouse, I asked my son if he would like to go out to dinner.  We came home to find that our house had been broken into and several items had been stolen.  It didn’t even register on the stress-o-meter, I was so overloaded.  I took a half-day off from work, got the window replaced and carried on.

Shortly afterwards that boss was replaced with a new one who felt that he was not going to be able to reach his sales goals with a little Molly Mormon assistant who was not likely to cooperate when he stole leads from other offices, among other things.  Short on scruples, he leapt on every piece of evidence he could to make me look like a slothful employee, and this was a year when there had been some unscheduled absences and additional doctor appointments to help him make his case. 

I realized that the stories of people being pushed out of their jobs were real, as I experienced that firsthand.  In addition to everything else that was going on, I found myself unsure if I had job security and would continue to have health insurance and needed income.  I even approached an attorney about my rights as an employee.  Without listening to the bulk of the things that were going on, he said, “It’s not against the law to be a jerk.”  I thought of telling him that was a good thing or he would likely be arrested on the same charge.  I felt all alone in the world. 

One afternoon during a font-family:Arial'>Florida thunderstorm, I raised my eyes heavenward.  “I don’t need any more material for any of my books!” I informed the Powers that Be.  Then I continued my rant.  “How about if I just go out in the backyard and give you a nice clear target?”

Week after week I went to church and sat on the back row, often crying my way through the hymns, trying to get my heart right, and wondered if anyone but my closest friends knew or cared how much I was struggling.  I had no visible home teachers. 

The main concern of some ward members seemed to be that I not become a welfare burden on the ward, never knowing how much that suggestion hurt my feelings.  The bishop was never aware that I did eventually quit my job, turning in to the personnel department all the information the attorney did not want to make use of.  I was too proud to tell the ward leaders I was unemployed, and I was bound and determined not to ask for any help from them.  At one time I worked three part-time jobs to keep my head above water. 

I had been a Relief Society President and had handled food orders for many families, and I had never imagined needing a food order, much less being made to feel that I was unworthy of help if I needed it.  Yes, I struggled financially, but my biggest struggles at that time were spiritual.  I did my best to hold onto the message that kept coming to me.  “Be still and know that I am God.”

At times like this, there is likely to be one or two or eighty-seven people who will tell you, “The Lord doesn’t give us more than we can handle.”  I was already struggling in my relationship with Him, and I didn’t need people suggesting he was “sending” these problems.  I know there are lots of you out there who really like that saying, so I gave that line to a character in one of my novels to handle.

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This excerpt is from Are We There Yet?

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As many of you have probably noticed, if there is anything I hope to accomplish with my writing, it is to help us to think twice about the things we say to people who are dealing with trials.  While some of them might have comfort value, because so many people tend to say the same things, they go from comforting to annoying quite quickly. 

We usually get a better result when we open our hearts instead of our mouths.

The Last Straw

Too many times I have experienced or witnessed that last straw on the camel’s back.  Sometimes it is a whole bale of hay, for that matter. 

While driving across the island this week, my stepson, Shawn, and I were remembering a Christmas Eve a few years ago.  We were the last ones leaving to go across the island because the family was gathering on the other side, since our vacation home was not rented during the holidays.  Because we had our dog with us, I was taking the less-windy south route. 

Several miles from the next town, I heard a pop and the car suddenly became very difficult to steer.  I began to drive very slowly, sometimes requiring Shawn’s help to turn the steering wheel when we came to a curve.  The only thing I could think of to do was to limp to the next small town, which I knew was coming up, and hope we would find the service station (yes, there was only one) open and be able to get some help. 

We both had to pull on the steering wheel to get the car to make the right turn into the small village.  With relief, I noticed that the lights were still on at the service station as we pulled in.  Jumping out of the car, I ran towards the lone attendant as I saw him locking the door and preparing to turn out the lights for the evening.  He stated that they were closed and pointed to a brown house on the next street over and told me that a mechanic lived there and wished me good luck. 

On the verge of tears, unsure whether or not we were going to be able to join the rest of the family, I looked back at the car.  Shawn had the car doors open, because he had just returned from taking the dog for a short walk.  They had both climbed back into the car.  I headed to the car just in time to see the dog toss his cookies all over the backseat. 

This has become sort of a benchmark for me.  Why, I have asked many times, often on behalf of people other than myself, just when you are already dealing with something stressful, does the dog barf on the backseat?

When my niece was battling cancer, why did her younger brother get hit with a baseball, requiring several repeated trips to the emergency room to stop bleeding that would reoccur just when they thought they had it under control?  Why did Dad also have health problems during this time when family resources, emotional and otherwise, were stretched to the limit?

I have a friend who, after many years of struggling to make things better, ended a marriage to man who had forgotten that supporting his family was part of the bargain.  He was more than glad to let her new husband adopt their children, as it meant no financial responsibility for him.  She became mother to his several children, and they added to their family.  I was so happy to hear that things were going better for her. 

Then during a trip to Utah I heard that her new husband had died, leaving her as a single mother to eleven children.  I was in town, so I went to the funeral. 

As I stood in line, I overheard someone telling her how wonderful it was that she was sealed to her new husband.  Yes, that is true, but I was thinking about how she was also going to need a lot of help to get through the “now” before she was joyfully reunited with her husband.

This past week I heard that some friends of mine lost their son, who took his own life.  That tells me that sometimes people do have more than they can handle.  And not having experienced this, I don’t know how a family copes after such a loss. 

I tried to imagine what would be helpful in a situation like that.  All I can think of is that “right thing” that was done for me, after my husband died, when a friend took me in his arms and just said, “I’m so sorry.” 

The other thing I can think of that might be helpful is to take away a physical task.  When one’s emotional resources are spent, simple tasks like taking out the garbage can become monumental. 

I remember a friend coming by my house one day and taking all my dirty laundry and bringing it back clean and folded.  It is that friend who did that for me who just lost her son.  Now I am far away and all I can think of to do to help is to write something that someone closer might read in hopes that they might go by and do something kind for her like she did for me. 

In sensitive situations like this, we often don’t know what to do or say, so we don’t do anything, but doing nothing is not the right thing, either.  Above all, people need to know they are loved and cared for as they struggle. 

Do You Deliver?

It isn’t enough just to tell people that they can handle their problems.  I am reminded of a time that I was sick with the flu.  I had tried to order a pizza, so I would not have to try and get up and cook dinner.  My son was too young at the time to fix himself something and there was not much in the house as I had not been shopping.  As soon as I began to give my address, I was told that I was out of their delivery area.  “But you didn’t even hear my entire address.”

“We don’t deliver to the elevens.”

In frustration, I called my dear friend, Shauna, who was always there with a listening ear.  “And then Scotty climbs on the waterbed and gets the bed in waves, which gets my stomach in waves.  There isn’t any food in the house and Pizza Hut doesn’t deliver to the elevens.”

I felt a little better after I had vented.  Shortly after I had talked to her, the phone rang.  It was Shauna.  It hadn’t taken her long to think it over.  Though she lived in a completely different part of town, she told me that she was bringing dinner over.  “Pizza hut may not deliver, but Shauna does.”

I have always been grateful for friends who considered me within their “delivery area.”   I would not have made it through my trials without the help of my friends.  For every person oblivious to the needs of others, on the other end of the ledger are people who know what you need without you having to ask.  Those people are a gift from God.