Bethesda

A month ago I thought I had a 2” tumor between my ribs. There was a four-hour interim between my discovery and my doctor’s visit. In those four hours I had two thoughts (keep in mind that people with anxiety go from 0 to 60 in half a second):

1. THIS is why our house is so far behind schedule! I have cancer and I am going to need to live in my ward-o-comfort while I go through chemo and radiation.
2. If this is aggressive and I only have a few months left to live, what do I still need to tell my children?

Well, there are three things I still need to record for my kids and this is one of them.

Oh, and I don’t have a tumor. I have a protruding xiphoid process, which I’ve most likely had my whole life but never noticed. (Or else my last pregnancy rearranged my sternum. I was too focused on my swollen feet and ankles to register any other anomalies in my physique.) I’m pretty sure the doctor laughed behind my back when I left his office.

With that introduction, here is my “dying wish” for my three Easter eggs, RE, Archer, and Everett, given by a mother in perfect health. Also, the final installment on my "Puzzle" series.

Part III of III

One of my favorite daytrips is to drive solo to Provo, get a SLAB of Thai pizza south of campus, park at the BYU Museum of Art, eat my pizza by the statues, and then go inside to sit at The Bloch. When I’m done sitting, I head to Sundance for a slight detour and come home via the Alpine Loop. It’s perfection in a 2-hour nutshell.

The Bloch is Christ Healing the Sick at Bethesda by Danish painter Carl Bloch. BYU acquired the painting September 10, 2001, the same day Greg and I were at the Denver Broncos’ inaugural game at Invesco Field. I only remember that because the next morning was September 11 and we were stranded with a cancelled flight. RE was four months old. I stared at her sleeping face in the back seat of a rental car as we serpentined through Glenwood Canyon. “It’s the end of the world," I thought. "My poor baby.”

I discovered the painting several years after it was acquired. I noticed it because I needed it. I needed it because I was broken. I was approaching the 7-years-of-bad-luck mark of trying to have another baby. Infertility had changed from a nagging shadow to a constant companion. Month after month my cycle would ebb and flow; each flow caused a surge of strangulating pain. I’d flee to Provo, inhale my pizza, wipe my nose as it started to run (from the Thai sauce, not from crying), and make my way to The Bloch. Centered on the bench that was centered on the painting I’d look up, exhale, and lock my gaze on the Savior’s face. Preoccupied with his compassion I pleaded so many times, “Fix me. Fix this. I know you can do it. You’re doing it in this painting.”

I have since read the eight-verse account in the New Testament over and over with a magnifying glass. There was a pool named Bethesda with five porches near the sheep market. It was believed when the water “troubled” an angel had descended, making the water teem with healing power. Whomever stepped in first after the “trouble” (which I imagine was really just bubbles coming up from a spring or some type of Jerusalem Old Faithful) was healed from whatever disease he had. A great multitude of impotent, blind, halt, and withered therefore gathered at Bethesda to try their luck at being first in the water. It seems cruel; a race for people who couldn’t run. A gamble of bad odds for people with no luck.

Now for my favorite part.

The Savior is in town. He heads to Bethesda on the Sabbath, which shows so much of his character. Bethesda had to have been pretty vile. I think of that scene in Gone With the Wind when all the soldiers are strewn across the railyard moaning with their bandaged limbs and Scarlett is scrunching her nose and looking for a hanky. So The Great Physician heads to epicenter of Unfortunate and Forgotten (beside a sheep market…double stinky) and befriends a man who has had his infirmity 38 years. He simply asks Wilt thou be made whole? And this man, this poor man, says (and I’m paraphrasing), “Of course I want to be made whole! But I’m not made of money and I wasn’t born a king and I don’t have a servant to help me get to the water first. Every time I descend close enough to snatch the angel’s magic someone faster edges me out and steals my healing.” Jesus replies, Rise, take up thy bed, and walk.

And then my super favorite part.

And IMMEDIATELY the man was made whole. He took up his bed and walked. I like to imagine him rolling up his filthy bedroll with gusto as he realized he was now going to do all those things he dreamed of doing for 38 years. I wonder if he left Bethesda walking. Maybe he ran.

Now, kids. Why would I want you to know this story?

Because you are growing up in a crazy world of counterfeit and commotion. You will have immense trials; that is the purpose of life. Some of them may last years. Perhaps they will cripple your hope and shrink your horizons. When this happens, do not let the world trick you into believing its bubbly water has the cure-all for your pains. It does not. The world will advertise endless pools of Bethesda and charge you expensive rent for a deck chair with no intention of ever granting you a pool pass. It will sell you its philosophies mingled with truth for the bargain price of confusion. It will seduce your senses with fragrant salves of revenge and justification. In short, it will barter its praise for His peace. Do not be deceived and do not sell out.

In my case, I looked to many waters to fix my baby hurt. After 12 years at Bethesda I became beyond desperate. I tried anger, blame, shutting fertile people out, retail therapy, weekly massages, lunch dates, endless projects. Heck, I even went to Paris. I'm not saying these are bad things (well, hating people with babies is bad). I am saying they were temporary fixes that dulled and distracted from the pain. Only one thing can and will ever heal you and that is the Atonement of your Savior, Jesus Christ.

As I frequented The Bloch, the subject I became most sympathetic towards was the man in the red headscarf. He was weary from worry. His eyes were bloodshot from suffering. He was desperate for healing, and in my experience when you are desperate for one thing you will do almost anything to get it, even things that don’t make sense like watching still water all day because a friend of a friend knew a guy who touched the water and was healed. It seemed he was close enough to overhear the Savior’s miracle but not quite willing to leave his spot next to the pool. He had doubts as to which method, bubbles or the words of a carpenter’s son, would serve him best.

When you find yourself literally wedged between The Rock and a hard place, choose the rock of your Redeemer! Turn your backs to the world and search for Him behind pillars, in crowds, at the temple, and on lonely, dusty roads. Scour over His life and words. Jesus Christ is unequivocally and undeniably the answer to every question.

I needed answers for my struggles with infertility, but once infertility was solved a new trial du jour popped up in its place. I'm constantly tackling revolving issues with my body, raising children, my marriage, endless physical pain, time management, failure, regret, perspective, education, times and seasons, my worth, and more. When you find parts of you that don’t match Him, fix them! Change. This “inner work” is grueling but it will alter your life more than a change of external circumstances will. It will change your yearnings on a museum bench.

Now, precious babies of mine, mommy has one more thing to say.

When Jesus approached the man who had been suffering for 38 years he didn’t actually ask him, “What is wrong and how long have you been suffering?” He already knew and he knew exactly. You don’t have to sit by a painting or a pool year in and year out begging to be fixed. Jesus already knows you exactly and he will know with what and for how long you have been hurting. You don’t have to say anything. You just have to proverbially look up, trust what you hear, and do exactly what he says in faith. You, too, will be made whole. WHOLE means filled, not healed, so don’t expect an extreme metamorphosis. Many who are whole exit Bethesda with a limp and a smile; the Savior’s ways are often incongruent with our personal plans.

You don’t need to worry about your odds with running into an angel. Joseph Smith said, "If you live up to your privileges, the angels cannot be restrained from being your associates." Kids, do your part and God will send you angels. I am a witness that a consecrated life, not pools, runneth over with angels galore.

Archer, you were born when I was 38 (which is why I always remember the man had his infirmity for 38 years) but I left Bethesda at age 37. I left Bethesda in a prayer offered one hour before the doctors revealed whether or not I was pregnant with you. I was kneeling on my rose step stool, beside my king bed, with the morning sun shining on my back. In that prayer, I realized inside of myself that no matter the outcome I was whole because I had found the Savior and healing came from being close to Him. I knew I had done all I could do, and whatever He wanted for me was what I also wanted.

BETHESDA means House of Mercy. Hank Smith said, "Mercy, by definition, is something you don't deserve. The moment you earn mercy, it is on longer mercy, it is justice. One of the great freeing moments in life is when you allow God to give you blessings and forgiveness you don't deserve." A man was healed despite his looking for relief in the wrong place. The Savior will give you mercy, and answers, and healing, even if you have been looking in the wrong places or to the wrong sources for them. It is never too late to fix things, but there is only one lasting way to fix things. 

Photo quote by Rabbi Ronnie Cahana. The eight verses are found in St John 5:2-9. Photo of a lithograph by August Gaber (1823-1894) from an old French Bible. Frenchie bought the Bible next to the Seine but ripped this page out for my birthday present a few years back. It's of Christ healing the paralytic in Luke 5. She loved how women were present. View Bloch's work here. And that was my fortune from some dinner. I save my fortunes in the coin purse of my wallet.

This is one of my favorite Mormon Messages. I associate it with Bethesda. Seeking the pool over The Source is living beneath our privileges.

Update 5/27/17

I published "Bethesda" and downloaded a free app called Virtual New Testament the following day. A team of genius people at BYU recreated ancient Jerusalem and guess what? The Pool of Bethesda made the cut! This is a screenshot from the app:

This is what the app says about it:

This pool was built directly adjacent to a Greco-Roman "hospital" of that day (called an Asclepion). This likelihood might explain the presence of so many sick, blind, and lame. There are actually two pools here with five porches (four porches around the sides of the pool with one going down the middle). The northern pool contained the fresh water. The southern pool may have been a large mikvah. At certain times, a gate was opened between the two pools and fresh water would rush into the lower pool, thus creating a frenzy among those seeking healing to be the first to get into the water. It was here, on a Sabbath, that Jesus healed a man who had been lame for 38 years.

The other thing I loved learning from this app is that the Garden of Gethsemane is the lowest white circle to the left of the pool. It is so close! Off to the right of the pool is Calvary and the Garden Tomb. The Pool of Bethesda is literally between the garden and the cross. I love the symbolism; the two greatest things He did encompassed those who suffered. Anyone who ails fits between his brackets of sacrifice.