I have always admired the Brother of Jared and the incredible faith he possessed to move Mount Zerin. I’ve often wondered, how does an average girl living an ordinary life like mine, ever hope to develop such extraordinary faith? Was it only for the prophets of old or could I somehow, in some way, develop the faith necessary to work such miracles? I was doing everything I knew to live the gospel, yet that higher level of faith felt hopelessly out of reach.

It wasn’t until years later, even after my mission, that I discovered the gaping error in my thoughts. The faith required to move mountains wasn’t a prize awarded only to the golden few of whom we read in the scriptures. And it certainly wasn’t something I could earn myself. As with everything we know and believe in the Gospel, that kind of exquisite faith is founded in the Savior, Jesus Christ. With Him, through Him and by Him all things can and will be done. It isn’t my faith that can move mountains. It’s my faith in Him. Unwavering, unyielding, unalterable faith in Jesus Christ is the key. There, suddenly I understood. Turns out I had the faith to move mountains all along.

But what if the mountain was never meant to be moved?

In February of 2017 I got the surprise of a lifetime, you know, the good kind that leaves a permanent smile on your face and skip in your step. After two normal ultrasounds seeing just one baby, I was told I was actually pregnant with two, identical twins. I remember vividly gazing up at the ultrasound screen, in wonder and awe, watching their two little sweet bodies hugging each other. I felt such and overwhelming joy and love well up in my heart it was almost tangible.

That night, I wrote in my journal, “My heart is double full, I feel like the windows of heaven opened and showered our family with its choicest blessings. Oh, what joy!”

Later that week, however, as I learned more about my pregnancy, that joy turned to fear.

I was having Monochorionic, Monoamniotic, or MoMo, twins. I had never heard of such a thing, probably because they are incredibly rare- maybe 1 in 60,000 pregnancies. Because the egg split so late in the pregnancy, the two babies were in one sac, sharing both amniotic fluid and one placenta. My doctor, although carefully trying to keep my spirits high, shared the grave concerns about this type of pregnancy. He called it “cord conflict,” and the statistics were not good. In most cases, one or both of the babies doesn’t survive because the umbilical cords get tangled, leaving them void of oxygen and nutrients. It was going to be nearly impossible to carry them to the delivery goal of 24 weeks.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

The next day I spent hours combing through the internet reading every last thing I could find on how to keep these babies alive. I even joined a MoMo support group on Facebook, but was overcome by its endless tragic stories. The more I learned, the more I feared.

I cried myself to sleep even harder that night

Still, I had faith.

The whole world was telling it me it was going to take a miracle to get these babies here safely.

Well guess what? I believed in miracles.

I had a mountain to move, and I felt like if there was one person on earth who had enough faith in the Lord to move it, it was me. I also decided that if I was going to beg the Lord for a miracle of this magnitude, then I better be worthy of it. I woke up earlier and studied my scriptures earnestly. My prayers became more meaningful and I found myself pleading hourly for the Atonement of Jesus Christ to be present in my life. I wanted to be so clean and pure and valiant that The Lord would have no choice but to grant me the righteous desire of my heart.

In the meantime, I had several spiritual experiences that allowed me to believe all would be well.

I knew this miracle was not only possible, but probable.

Faith replaced my fear.

And I stopped crying myself to sleep.

In the days and weeks ahead I spent countless hours daydreaming about my two little ones. Sure, it was going to be hard, but it was also going to be so wonderful. My husband and I were looking for a new car and a new house that could accommodate the needs of our growing family. We were going to be so happy.

Sadly, that specific happiness would never find its place here on earth.

At my next ultrasound, I received the second greatest shock of my life, only this one crushed me, body and soul.

The downward gaze of my doctor’s eyes said it all.

No heartbeats.

Both babies gone.

This time, I couldn’t bring myself to look up at the monitor. I didn’t want to believe it was true.

No. Please, no.  It couldn’t be.

My mountain wasn’t moved.

At first I was too stunned to feel any real emotion. But as the hours wore on they came flooding over me like an uncontrollable storm.

I drove straight from the doctor’s office to the steps of the temple, the House of the Lord. I needed to have a conversation with God.

There in my car and through a torrent of sobs, I voiced my anguish. I wasn’t angry with the Lord, only tragically disappointed and confused.

My faith in the Lord was unyielding. He was able to perform this miracle and keep those cords from tangling, of this I was certain. Why then, did He not permit this mountain to be moved? And WHY did I believe He would? Was I so off in my ability to recognize spiritual impressions that I made them up just because I wanted this so desperately? I wanted to go home, rip up my journal and scream. I wasn’t mad at the Lord, I was mad at myself. All was not well, not even close. How could I have been so wrong?

It was during this time that I devoted myself to finding answers, even if they took a lifetime to understand. One morning I sat somberly with my scriptures on my lap. The only prayer I could muster went something like this, “Please come to me.” I opened up to Doctrine and Covenants, Section 6.

34 Therefore, fear not, little flock; do good; let earth and hell combine against you, for if ye are built upon my rock, they cannot prevail.

36 Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.

37 Behold the wounds which pierced my side, and also the prints of the nails in my hands and feet; be faithful, keep my commandments, and ye shall inherit the kingdom of heaven. Amen.

That moment changed me. Doubt fled. My impressions were real, all would be well, just in circumstances I didn’t want and hadn’t expected. He knew me. He heard my every prayer, and He was closer than ever to help me bear the grief I was carrying. The Lord had lessons for me to learn, eternal ones, and they required a side-by-side walk with Him, over a mountain.

It took several weeks for me to write in my journal again. My previous entry was too painful to revisit and this present one would be far different than my last. I awoke in the middle of the night and penned these words:

I can’t sleep. My mind and heart won’t rest and I am so blinded by tears I find it nearly impossible to write. The joy of my life has turned to indescribable sorrow. My prayers, my scripture study, my peaceful impressions that all would be well, are lost.  I didn’t get to keep my beautiful babies. Their tiny, beating hearts are gone, and with them a lifetime of unlived moments.

Though I already had the knowledge, I have come to learn for myself that sometimes heaven’s miracles are withheld. Sometimes the prayers of the faithful aren’t granted.

Although we may have the faith to move mountains, it is not always the Lord’s will that they be removed from our path. And so, our mountains must remain.

Still, I refuse to lose faith in God’s mercy.

My struggle continues, why did I have the feelings I did? Oh, the frailties of life, of men. How will I ever overcome? I know how, and it won’t be me at all. It will be Him. It already has been, and forever will be, Him.

And so, I begin a new quest. A personal journey to understand more about this experience that changed my life, my understanding of faith and miracles and my relationship with the Lord. I was placed before a path filled with doubt, fear and bitter loneliness. I think at some point in life we all find ourselves placed here. But, I decide daily not to take it. Instead, I continue to read, pray, hope and believe, because in my heart lives faith. Faith in the Plan of Salvation. Faith in my temple covenants. Faith in eternal families. Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. And still, faith to move mountains.