God Has Not Ceased to Be a God of Miracles

It is now September 26, 2022 and I am polishing this up as I celebrate the 5th anniversary of being reunited with my family after serving in New York for 18 months. 

To start things off, lets catch up. I'm sure you've been dying to know what happened to Hanny the Nanny after she returned back to her little home town.

Here's what has happened.

First of all, my time in Europe came to a short and bittersweet end because of a phone call I got on November 9th, at about 10 pm (royal family time). My sweet Mum informed me that the cancer we thought she fought off ten years ago (then) had indeed returned. And this time it was back with a vengeance. So, the wonderful parents I worked for let me go home and spend my time with my family. I can remember having conversations with them about what I was going to do next; whether I was going to go to school, or stay home until Mum passed, or work or whatever.

When I got home, I felt like time was kind of frozen for a moment. All my friends were in college and I was just, home. It really wasn't bad. But the more my mom and I talked about the uncertainty of the future the more we both felt like I needed to serve a mission.Which, now thinking about it, that's the total opposite thing I thought I'd do with a dying Mother. But, through this, I've learned two things, and I think the moment I decided to go on a mission was when I began to learn. The first being, that "If you will be faithful, you have nothing to fear from the [future.]"- M. Russell Ballard, 1997

We can't put life on pause when disaster or tragedy strikes. There is so much joy to be found. Lehi even teaches his sons on his death bed that "Adam fell that man might be, and men are that they might have joy." If we have a pittyful attitude whenever something bad hits us, we are counting ourselves out of so many joyful opportunities that could be waiting for us.

I remember one specific bad night, when we got the news from my Mum's Oncologist that the cancer tested to be fatal. Stage Four. Peppered throughout her bones, diaphragm and lungs. The tricky thing about the bones is that no medicine we have today can kill it. There is certain kinds of antidotes that can suppress it, but once the cancer is in there, it's there to stay. But that night was a very defining one. 

So, I visited with my dear Bishop Howarth and let him know it was time to get those missionary papers rolling. I am so grateful for a Bishop who supported the faith of a young 19 year old girl. My call arrived in the mail soon after and I was called to the beautiful Rochester Mission and in addition to my calling to preach the gospel, I was assigned to serve at the Hill Cumorah Visitors Center and surrounding church history sites. Each site playing a profound roll in the history of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and each would play a profound roll in the heart of little Sister Jacobsen. A very short six weeks later I was on my way to the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah. I still think it was great this happened all so fast, because it didn't give my mom or I time to second guess the thought of me going to live across the country. The reality struck me the day I flew into Rochester. I remember looking out the window as we were going over Buffalo to see Niagara Falls below, and thinking that I was going to be gone for a very. long. time. But, Mom never doubted. Mom knew I needed to go; and I did too. So, like the Mothers of the Stripling Warriors, I was a young child who needed to rely on the faith of their mother. I couldn't doubt that I was supposed to go because my Mom knew it. 

We were taken in by our cheerful Mission President Francis and that night, while he and I talked of my mothers health, reality hit me again when he said "I know its very possible you may not see your Mom again, but I can promise if you serve with all your heart, might, mind and strength you will see blessings beyond anything you could ever imagine." I still didn't know it, but President Francis had probably planted a seed that evening that would be the most important thing for me to learn in those 18 months. 

The second lesson is that God always keeps His promises. We read all through out the Book of Mormon that God's biggest concern for us is whether or not we will keep our side of the bargain. And if we do, by golly, its almost as if magic happens. In order for me to repeat the stories that go along with this lesson I would need a whole new blog post. So I'll do that later. But I have definitely learned that God loves His children, and wants us to succeed, He is eager to help us, but its on our part to do the work.

God has not ceased to be a God of miracles. 

When we began the tour of our mission the next morning, we went first to the Sacred Grove. We all stood in front of the sign that greets you as you enter in through the north side of the farm. Then, President took us through each of the Smith homes. I didn't know yet that I would have some life changing experiences in those little  houses. Then, we made our way from the second Smith home into the south side of the farm, where there was another entrance to the Sacred Grove. President Francis pulled out the sheet music to the hymn commonly known as "Joseph Smiths First Prayer" and we sang all four verses. The magic thing was that even the trees seemed like they were singing with us. They knew that the events had in fact occurred there in the spring of 1820, and here I was, in the spring of 2016, about to find out for myself.

After we sang, President Francis invited us to go find our own bench, and make covenants with God concerning our mission. I knew exactly what I wanted to ask for. We set off, and I practically ran to the farthest bench in the Grove. I sat for a few moments, really soaking in the fact that I was in the place where God the Father and  Jesus Christ had actually appeared to Joseph Smith. I felt it. Nothing could ever change the way I felt that spring morning. Then, I was ready to ask, for myself. I knelt down in the squishy spring mud, and prayed aloud. I remember first asking God to helf me feel the confirming spirit that this was true, then, I promised Heavenly Father that I would work as hard as I could, if He would just let me see my mom one more time. If He could just let me see my mom again I'd dedicate these 18 months to Him. As I said Amen, it was if a fire had sparked in my soul that would only keep burning. So from that moment on, I made sure I was kindling that flame everyday.

I remember my first five or six weeks in, I got a miracle email from my mom. She said that the cancer showed no signs of growth. That it had practically disappeared. I remember I was walking into the Hill Cumorah Visitors Center when I read that long awaited email. I knew that God was on my side, and that we were winning!

The next few months flew by for me. New companions came and went, I stayed in the same area for nine months and met some wonderful people. Every morning I woke up, and sometimes, I really struggled to find motivation to get going, but I'd look at the picture I have of my mom and I, and I'd find the spark again. Eventually I made it to months nine, ten and eleven. I felt as if I were on fire. But month eleven was hard. One day I got a sudden email from my mom, relaying the news that this blessed chemo that had been working so well, quit working. Everyone was sort of in a panic. The doctors told my parents they'd start looking for anything that could hold it off, but they thought it might be best to bring me home, considering I still had six months left and it wasn't looking like she would make it that long without treatment. 

By then I had a new Mission President who was very aware of what was going on. We met about every 6 weeks in order for him to check in with each missionary and I think this interview was the first time I actually sobbed out of stress and fear. But I think it helped me, because I couldn't dwell on the fact that I felt doomed. Instead, I had to go out and testify to people about the joy that comes from knowing that families are eternal. The following week was scary. I fasted and prayed. My companion fasted and prayed with me. I had called many of my previous companions and Elders in my previous areas and asked them to join me in a special fast and they agreed they would.

Mom was going to meet with her  Doctor in a few days to see if they had found anything that would work to buy her a little more time. So I fasted some more. But the most interesting thing happened about a week before the appointment. As I started my studies that morning, I was reading in the Book of Alma about the Stripling Warriors. There wasn't a specific verse, there wasn't a specific word, but I just remember reading about all of those young men, completely committed to keeping covenants, even if it meant death. They were more concerned with keeping their covenants with God, and because of that, God carried them through, and they were triumphant. In fact, my favorite verse out of that is when they are about to go to war, and Heleman says to his little army, "What say ye my sons?" And some very brave, very well taught warrior simply testifies, "Behold, our God is with us, and He will not suffer that we should fall. Then let us go forth!" And they fought. And it was bloody, but God keeps His covenant and none of these teenage boys died.  

I realized I was looking at this all the wrong way. I was looking at it at a very fearful standpoint. Each morning from then on, when I would start to get scared, I would say to myself, "we are going to be faithful, not fearful. Faithful, not fearful." And then, I would try to be brave. I also realized that in order for God to keep His promises I had to keep mine. We had a deal! I was going to serve with my whole heart for 18 months and He was going to let me see my mom again. Just as he had kept his promise with the young warriors,  He was not going to let me fail. So, I told my President I couldn't go home. If I counted myself out of the game early,  I wouldn't be giving God the chance to uphold the end of His bargain.

The morning of the appointment I was still a little fearful. I had been fasting all morning, and broke my fast about the time that Mom would have her appointment. But its funny, I remember going to break my fast with a prayer that Mom would be healed, but as I prayed, I felt different. My efforts, I realized, were not meant to be for Mom's healing, but that I could handle whatever the results were. I prayed for peace, I fasted for comfort, and I was ready to know what the next game plan was and I knew that with faith, we could handle it. 

I got a pretty quick email too. Mom must have emailed me right from the hospital room. They found another option. One more kind of treatment. I cried. Happy tears, of course. Humbled tears. The kind of tears that make you realize just how good God is, even though you can't put it into words. So I learned that God is a God of miracles, yes. I also learned that He keeps His covenants. But I also  learned that He is in control, and I am not. Its very flattering when He offers to give us what we want, because in reality, He knows much better than us. But with that answer, I flew. God had re-ignited the flame and I was determined to see my mom again. The harder I worked the faster time went, and before I knew it, I received the flight plans for my family to arrive in Rochester, New York on September 27.

That morning was also a weird one. I went to the mission home, like every returning missionary does. We had dinner, we talked about memories, and all of the sudden, there I was with some of my best friends in the same bunk beds we were too stressed to sleep in 18 months ago. Now here we were, 18 months later and still to stressed to sleep.

My parents took a red eye Tuesday night so they would end up getting to New York on Wednesday, which meant I stayed an extra night with some Sisters. But the morning came, and I went to the mission office. I was in the new missionary meeting when one of the Office ladies came and got me. I practically ran down the hall. I walked down the curve in the hall, and there she was. My brave, faithful Mom coming around the corner. It was like I had been holding my breath for 18 months and I finally had the chance to breathe. I often think about the reunion I had with her that day. That was such a sweet reunion, and it felt so good to be "welcomed home" by my mom. I look forward to the day that will happen again.

We hugged, we cried, we went to Denny's and then headed to Palmyra. The first place we went were the Smith homes, and I got to testify of the First Vision to my family. That was the best tour I took in 18 months. Then, we went right out to the Grove, and I went right to my bench. You remember? The one I found on my first day in the mission. I gathered my family around, and I told them of my covenant keeping, faith-building journey, and read all through out the Book of Mormon where it states that "God has not ceased to be a God of miracles." Then, Mom and I sat on the bench. And we cried those good tears, that come out of your eyes when words just wont cut it.

So, here I am, five years later. My mom passed away in February of 2019. I got another 18 months with her before her journey ended. And in those 18 months I learned a lot more about accepting God's will and moving forward with faith. Serving a mission brought more blessings into my life that I could have ever imagined. God loves His missionaries, but I also learned that God also loves His returned missionaries. Not matter the length of service, or location of service. He looks out for us after. He looked out for me and He continues to do so. My time in New York has laid the foundation for everything I am today and everything I will be in the future. My time in New York can be summed up by a quote from Thomas S Monson. He said once, "The greatest decision I ever made in my life was to give up something I dearly loved for the God I loved even more. He has never forgotten me for it." Now, I'm a wife and mom, and nurse. I deal with death on a daily basis at work. In various conversations with residents families and experiences of my own, I've learned how important it is to grieve. Its important to let yourself feel those emotions of loss and anger and discouragement. They also never fully go away. 

But something that has rested in the back of my mind is a question a friend asked once while I was on my mission. They said "What if you die tomorrow and learn that all of this was a lie? That there is no prophet, there is no Book of Mormon and mostly that Joseph Smith was a liar. How would you feel?" I have pondered it many many times, because let’s be honest the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints isn't getting such a hot rep right now. And while there seem to be so many reasons to leave, I ask myself, Why have I chosen to stay? And I will be honest, I have not had the some of the experiences others have had. Through my line of work and the wonderful people I get to associate with, I’ve learned that sometimes the church is not for everyone- and for me to pretend like it is would be disrespectful of those who have dealt with greater issues than I. But when I reflect on the things that have happened in my life - and I dont think I'll ever be able to adequately express it- I have had experiences in my time in Europe, and in my time in New York, that I could never deny. I have learned for myself, and I can not live a life without the blessings of the gospel. I want to see my mom again. I want to see loved ones that have gone on before me. I want to be with my husband and babies forever. I know that because of the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ I can. I know that God is a loving God. He is kind, and He is inviting  and uniting and He is the same yesterday, today and forever. So why wouldn't He call a prophet to lead and guide us today? Has He forgotten us? I think sometimes its easy to forget that the gospel really is simple. Its beautiful. It brings hope that we can change and improve. It brings happiness because we know we can see our loved ones again. Ive told some that if something were to happen and it turned out that the church was actually false, I would have no regrets because of the core principles the Gospel teaches. I will never regret learning how to love a neighbor, or helping someone in need. I'll never regret learning how to rely on a higher power and seeing for myself the miracles that follow when I do. I'll never regret making the promise that I'll try to be a better person each and every day. 

All in all, five years later I realize I'm a very different person than I was when I got home from New York. I've had experiences I didn't think I'd ever have to face. But because of my time in New York, I know that I can do hard things as long as I have God on my side, which He always is. It stinks not being able to call my mom whenever I'd like. As a new mom, there are so many things that happen that makes me want to seek her advice.  But my Mom taught me to love challenges and to face them head on. She taught me there is great power in relying on the Lord and giving your heart and soul to Him. She was the greatest example of that. She even wanted to be buried in "whatever outfit said 'here I am, put me to work." I will spend the rest of my days trying to become the type of person that God, and my Mom, would like me to be.