As the sparks fly upward

I recently enjoyed visiting with family out of state, including an aunt and cousins I rarely see. Our immediate reconnection and joyful communication remind me that the people we love are bound to us. Time, distance and even death cannot separate us from the powerful connection that shared living creates.

In conversations with my siblings and cousins, we reflected on our shared experiences and how to best support each other. My family shares a legacy of mental illness that wraps around our family tree like a climbing vine. We share genes, environment, and culture to different degrees. Our mental health challenges reflect the unique interactions between those influences as we navigate life’s joys and stresses.

Is there no balm in Gilead for those who suffer from depression, anxiety, mania, feelings of inadequacy, or all of the above? Even in our isolation, our Father and our Savior are mindful of each of us. The ancient American prophet Ammon reflected on God’s divine interest in our wellbeing, success, and growth:

“…[F]or this is my life and my light, my joy and my salvation, and my redemption from everlasting wo. Yea, blessed is the name of my God, who has been mindful of this people, who are a branch of the tree of Israel, and has been lost from its body in a strange land” ( The Book of Mormon, Alma 26:35-36).

In the middle of our trials the wo seems everlasting. Or it makes us want to cry, “Whoa!”

Over the last few years (even before the current pandemic), I have contemplated much on the subject of affliction. I can reasonably say I am gaining a witness of affliction—whether it be the result of Divine design, our own choices, or the choices of others. As I reflect on adversity, I think of Job’s suffering and his friends’ attempts to make sense of it. As Eliphaz attempted to comfort and counsel Job, he helpfully observed, “Yet man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward” (Job 5:7).

I find myself quoting this passage frequently when things do not appear to be going well. Yes, we know that trouble seems to follow us in this life, but it is the other part: “as the sparks fly upward,” that strikes me with its powerful imagery. What does it suggest to you? Can you visualize the sparks flying upward?

I imagine the sparks flying in a forge as the artisan repeatedly strikes the heated metal to become useful, beautiful, and finished. In the words of Malachi: “[W]ho may abide the day of his coming? and who shall stand when he appeareth? For he is like a refiner’s fire, and like fullers’ soap.” (Malachi, 3:2)

Jesus Christ refines and purifies us. The Master Craftsman knows us, for we are the work of His hands. As we put our trust in Him, he deftly shapes us and makes us into what he knows we can become. It is no accident that He calls his followers “Saints”—we are in the process of becoming holy.

I see two challenges in this refining process though—even when we, ourselves, understand this context and purpose, it does not make the going any easier. A greater challenge arises when we struggle to discern or connect with spiritual things. We may know or believe that God loves us and will help us through our trials, or that our suffering will not last forever. But sometimes we cannot feel those truths. Depression often interferes with the comfort we most desperately need: the companionship of the Holy Ghost.

Perhaps there is nothing to reconcile here for us—we do not, and perhaps will not in this lifetime, know why we suffer any particular affliction. And here I mean ‘why’ in a more nuanced sense than “there must needs be an opposition in all things” or “we live in a fallen world.” The Lord clearly promises: “[A]ll things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory” (Doctrine & Covenants 98: 1-3).

I used to think if I just exercised enough faith and prayed enough, the Lord would take my weaknesses away and replace them with strengths. I now pray for the wisdom to understand and learn what the Lord can teach me through my weaknesses and afflictions.

God has blessed us with each other—people who love, support, and provide perspective as we face the challenges of life. Whether “our people” are related to us or not, human connections and healthy relationships help us through our darker moments. We are “children of the light,” and sparks of our afflictions and our faith can lend light to others.

Amity Condie has lived in Palmer since 2004 and enjoys skijoring with her dogs and traveling with her husband and daughters. Her brother, Matthew Scoville, lives in Salt Lake City, Utah with his family and traverses the valley on a recumbent tricycle. They are both members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.