The Seven Year Road Block
I've had fun reading about the myth of the Seven Year Itch. Originally it had to do with a terrible rash that seemed to never end. In fact, one of the punishment for anti-social behavior was to expose the individual to the seven year itch! How awful!
When Illinois received the Mormons into their midst after they were expelled from Missouri, it was written that she had caught something worse than the seven year itch. See the article at Phrases.
Of course, in our time it is most often referred to the destruction of a marriage. I just had my 30th anniversary a few days ago so I can breathe a sigh of relief that I've passed that seven year mark over four times already! As mythological as it might be, it is also, sadly, statistically factual. See the safe-to-read article at webmd.
Taking the bizarre link between the Mormons and Marriage, I want to share something that the Spirit whispered the other day when I was contemplating how to help somebody I loved. Okay, so maybe bizarre isn't a strong enough word. But at my old age, I've learned to listen when spoken to by the right source. And this source clearly asked me to ask about what was happening seven years ago in her life. And from there came the quiet little words “conversion” and “pattern.”
Patterns I understand. I'm famous for being able to see patterns. Not artistic patterns, but relationship patterns, communication patterns, behaviorial patterns. The nice thing about patterns is that they allow for individual differences but are strong enough that you can learn from them and often it eases momentarily confusion and stress. At least for me. I can say, “Oh...I know that pattern!” And then I can move on with the confidence that if I can see it, well, then I'm sure my Heavenly Father can see it.
And – with some irritation – I have to admit that if I can see it, and Heavenly Father can see it, then the Adversary is also clued in. So, it comes down to which influence will I listen to when I come face to face with Patterns.
Knowing I had to explore some previously undetermined pattern connected with the request to look back seven years and the whisper of conversion, I did just that – for myself.
I joined the church in 1975. Roughly seven years later found me first pregnant and then the mother of my third child, Ben. Ben was 10 weeks premature and during that time our marriage became very strained. By the time Ben was a year old, Neil held me and wept because he realized that he didn't love me any more. I had known it was coming for months, but until he verbalized it, I could pretend that it was all dark imaginings. Needless to say, the seventh year after my conversion was one of my most painful times of my life.
Not seeing the connection between that time and my conversion, I barely started to form the prayerful question when the connection came. My life at the time of my conversion was full of emotional agony. I had a difficult family life and what drew me to the church initially was recognizing an eternal bond between an unknown father and his toddler while visiting the Mormon church's Stake Christmas Choir performance. That something between the father and child hit me to my very core, and led me to request information on the church. When I picked up the first book delivered to me by a friend, A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, I got quickly to the part that declared that I was a literal spirit daughter of Heavenly Father.
My conversion, instant and abiding, was based first on Eternal Relationships, something so seriously lacking in my life that my soul hungered beyond everything else for exactly that. Seven years later, when we had our second son – a little premature boy – alive and in our arms rather than buried and awaiting resurrection like his earlier premie brother – in that very situation when we should have been more joyous than ever – our eternal relationship nearly toppled.
The thing that I hungered for so strongly that I recognized the truthfulness of the Gospel was both my strength and weakness. The difference was my choice. Seven years earlier, when presented with the reality of Eternal Relationships amid my insecure family life, I chose to commit myself through baptism. Seven years later when the same insecurities surfaced, I fought back and recommitted. For my husband, the change was quick. By voicing his agony, he healed it instantly. For me, it was so much harder. Hearing the words cut to my core. But, I held on, improving myself and my relationship, and when the storm passed, life and love was better than before.
Ah, so the connection between seven years and conversion for me was that the very thing burdened me before and that brought me into the church was the same thing that loomed over me seven years later. My choice both time was to make the right commitment to the Lord.
So, I asked my daughter who is not a convert, but who experienced her own conversion when she was fourteen. Again, roughly seven years after her conversion she had an internal conflict present itself that mimicked the emotional turmoil previous to her conversion. Her way out of the conflict was very similar to her way into her conversion.
Of course, she then called her husband who is a convert. She barely mentioned the idea and he started talking about how it effected him. Pre-convert, he was very content with his life. He was a Christian who felt that things were pretty good, what more could he want? Then the Spirit hit him with the fullness. He's just passed his seven year conversion trial and it was much the same. Things are going good, what more could he want? And then he attended Youth Conference as a leader last weekend and his testimony and answer to that question soared.
We started talking to others and found similar patterns. Then Chani picked up the phone and called the friend that started this whole discovery. “Hey! My mom says that what you're going through is normal! Just hold on, keep your covenants and recommit yourself and it will pass and be better than ever!”
I know the Spirit started the process. I hope friend finds the concept encouraging and healing. I know that I'm fascinated by a new pattern that once again allows unlimited variety while maintaining the same promise: Hold on, stay true, recommit, and expect to zoom forward once the storm has passed.
