My Gethsemane

There were a few requests that I share this article that Kevin wrote and Troy read at the funeral. Kevin had hopes of publishing this article in the Ensign, but was never able to.

My Gethsemane
by Kevin Jeffs

Some years ago I came across a poem whose message caught my attention. It so intrigued me, that I decided that I would memorize it. It only took a few months of neglect however, for the passages to fade; but the last stanza has always stayed fixed in my mind. It reads:

All those who journey, soon or late,
Must pass within the garden's gate;
Must kneel alone in darkness there,
And battle with some fierce despair.
God pity those who cannot say,
"Not mine but thine," who only pray,
"Let this cup pass," and cannot see
The purpose in Gethsemane.

Just a few short years later, this passage would take on a deeper, more personal meaning.
In September of 2002, I was diagnosed with testicular cancer. The cancer had progressed to stage three, being the most severe stage for testicular cancer. Having spread into my abdomen, the cancer had quickly invaded every space available; constricting the proper function of organs and wrapping itself around nerves and major arteries alike. The far reaching fingers of the disease had also found its way to the chest cavity. There attaching itself to the lungs. Even a small amount had deposited itself in my shoulder near the collar bone. Over the next 6-8 months I would spend close to two months in the hospital, be operated on four times, and experience two grueling months of Chemotherapy. It is not an experience that I would ever want to relive. But I am grateful for the way that the Lord helped me to grow during the experience.
One evening, during my second week of Chemotherapy, I found myself resting in an overstuffed chair in my parent’s living room. I had recently returned home from having the toxic chemicals of Chemotherapy run through my veins for eight hours. Needless to say, I felt exhausted and extremely tired as the poisons continued their destructive course through my body; indiscriminately killing cancer cells and regular body cells. As I sat there without the strength or will to do anything more than think, the question that I had repeatedly pushed aside came back in greater force. Unable to cast it aside this time, I considered it. Why me? Why was this happening to me? In that moment sorrow overwhelmed me and I could do nothing but cry out as Joseph Smith did from the darkness of Liberty Jail, “O God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?”
As the gaping hole of sorrow threatened to swallow me, the gentle and loving rebuke came to my mind, “The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?” Instantly my mind was drawn to remember all the suffering the Son of Man willingly took upon himself for me. Suffering that caused him, “even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed from every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit.” He suffered “temptations, and pain of body, hunger, thirst, and fatigue, even more than man can suffer, except it be unto death.” Lying there in my own pain and sorrow, I gained some sense of the eternal vastness of Christ’s agony and pain. And how small my suffering seemed to be when compared to that of the Infinite and Eternal!
What gratitude filled my heart as I thought about how he loved me so much that he willingly took upon himself my suffering and more! Peace entered my soul as I felt his love comfort me. How true Alma’s words are: “And he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.” I understood and felt that he truly did know what I was feeling and shared in my sorrow. I felt his gentle words, “can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.”
As this light and understanding lifted my heart from the depths of sorrow, I felt as Alma the younger when he expressed, “and oh, what joy, and what marvelous light I did behold: yea, my soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was my pain! Yea, I say unto you … that there could be nothing so exquisite and so bitter as were my pains. Yea, and again I say unto you…that on the other hand, there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as was my joy.”
I learned first hand that day, that just as the Atonement can make our scarlet sins be white as snow , it can also ease our pain and change our sorrow to hope. As we answer the Lords call to “come unto him”, he will truly “ease the burdens which are put upon [our] shoulders, that even [we] cannot feel them upon [our] backs.”
Life will never be easy. When those difficult times come, it is up to us whether we “curse God,” as Job’s wife would have had him do, or trust in the Lord and seek to learn what he would have us learn. Elder Richard G. Scott said, “Just when all seems to be going alright, challenges often come in multiple doses applied simultaneously. When those trials are not the consequences of your disobedience, they are evidence that the Lord feels you are prepared to grow more. He therefore gives you experiences that stimulate growth, understanding, and compassion which polish you for your everlasting benefit. To get you from where you are to where He wants you to be requires a lot of stretching and that generally entails discomfort and pain…This life is an experience in profound…trust in Jesus Christ.” Through my experience I came to understand many things about myself and about my relationship with my Heavenly Father that I would not have gained otherwise.
I never did receive an answer to my question, “why me?” Perhaps I didn’t feel that I needed to ask it anymore. I had been to my Gethsemane; I had knelt there and had gained some sense of what Christ had done for me. I caught a glimpse of the purpose of Gethsemane. I only hope that I can continue to say “not as I will, but as thou wilt” and seek to be that which my Heavenly Father would have me to be.