This is my friend Marcy Andrew’s story. I met her on July 1, 1992, when we were assigned to be MTC companions. We served as companions again in Scotland and are sisters for eternity. She’s vivacious, creative, and strong. And my heart broke for her and rejoiced with her as this experience unfolded, even though I only knew news available on social media.
Her story, while “logistically” unique, resonates with the struggles we all have to look to heaven and act in faith. Her faith, courage, and determination to act continue to inspire me today. I hope her story inspires you, too.
From Marcy:
Liberty Jail Décor
When I met my husband at 37 years old, he had been through a lifetime of trials. A dream-dashing injury. A forced walk away from a business he built. Countless financial trials. And a failed 15-year marriage.
But a bigger trial loomed on the horizon. Jeremy had been born with a bad aorta and aortic heart valve. Sometime later in life, probably in his forties or fifties, Jeremy would need to have surgery to replace parts of his heart.
By the time he and I met, his soul was rich with strength, honor, and courage. He had been able to live life with only the slightest of restrictions. But his trials were not over, which meant that my trials were really just beginning.
Shortly before our fifth anniversary, at the age of 41, we were told by doctors that it was time to replace his valve and aorta. You wouldn’t think that open heart surgery would give someone relief, but finally, we could get this out of the way and move on with life with nothing stopping us!
Stepping into Liberty Jail
The night before his surgery, he was promised in his first blessing, that his recovery would be “speedy”, even “miraculous.” Funny, all I thought we needed was the routine procedure we were expecting.
The Routine Surgery
The next day the surgery went better than expected. But Jeremy didn’t wake up. His body continued to progress as expected while he remained unconscious.
After 24 hours, the doctors began tests to see what was happening. First, there was a CT scan. From the CT scan, they found that in the frontal lobe of his brain, he had suffered two strokes.
My dear, sweet, strong, and courageous husband was now, in fact, lying in that hospital bed in a coma. Another 24 hours came and went and during that time doctors did more tests. This time they discovered it was not just the two strokes, but multiple strokes scattered throughout his entire brain.
Prior to the doctors’ prognosis on the situation, priesthood blessings were given. Jeremy’s second blessing promised that he would recover through his faith.
But shortly after that, my whole world came crashing in, tearing apart and darkening everything I had ever known and believed about—really, everything.
The Prognosis
That night his doctor, followed by that day’s attending nurse, came into the room where I sat by my husband’s bedside clinging to the hope that his miracle would happen. They shut the door behind them and both sat on each side of me, each holding my hand. With their arms around me, they began to tell me the most awful news I could have ever imagined.
Such words like “there’s no hope” and “he’s gone” and “there’s nothing we can do” were muttered as I slowly felt myself dropping into the deep cavern of Liberty Jail. Darkness closed in around me as I desperately tried to see the light of day. With every breath came disbelief. I tried to tell them they were wrong and this WAS NOT what was supposed to happen. I must have said 100 times “This isn’t right,” but it was met with “I’m sorry, there’s just nothing we can do.”
I sat there, now imprisoned in Liberty Jail, and I stared at the ground. I thought to myself “Why am I not crying? And why am I not falling apart on that floor right now?” I was numb. I felt cold inside and an ache had begun in my heart that was so profound and bitter tasting that I felt paralyzed.
“But if it be not right…you shall have a stupor of thought” Doctrine and Covenants 9: 9.
Discomforting Comfort
As the night went on, I had everyone around me telling me the same thing—doctors, nurses, family, friends, even my Bishop. I had to go through the motions of telling everyone, including the children, that my husband was gone and there was nothing that could be done. The ache grew stronger and stronger every minute, and yet I was numb. I cried occasionally, sometimes I was shaking, but disbelief cried out deep in my soul.
Eventually, late that night, I made it home to our bedroom. I sat on the side of the bed, still numb but full of that horrendous ache and surrounded by cold darkness. I laid on my side staring at the wall and, somehow, slowly nodded off to sleep. Three hours later I woke up and immediately realized it was now June 6th—the day of our fifth wedding anniversary. The only place I could think of being was at his side.
So, at 3:30 in the morning, I raced to the hospital. As I drove, the tears finally began to flow. The anger blazed out of me, while the confusion controlled my every thought. I walked into his room and there he lay, in the darkness of night with the only light coming from his monitors and a small light in the corner.
Tubes and wires were attached to him all over his body. A breathing tube was being used, making it impossible to see his true face or to hear the sound of his own breath. I closed the doors and the curtains, sat in a chair by his side, held his hand and began to weep.
O God, Where Art Thou? And Where is the Pavilion…
The tears came from every corner of my soul, and the pain seemed to envelop me with more confusion and darkness. Eventually, I found the strength to pull myself together and to tell him the story of our wedding day five years earlier. I told him about the joy and peace I felt that day, the answers from God that I knew we were doing the right thing, the happiness and safety he had blessed me with, and how much I needed him to come back to me.
I prayed to God, asking him to help me understand His plan. I wanted so badly to feel the purpose in this horrible trial. I wanted desperately to know why and how long I was to be in this “Liberty Jail” of mine.
No comfort came. Several hours passed by, and I can honestly say that there was never a time I felt more intensely close to this man and so desperately in need of the Savior’s divine guidance. I told my husband over and over again that I knew he could fight to get back to us and that we all needed him. Yet, at the same time, the darkness still surrounded me and kept telling me to prepare to live my life without him. The confusion was maddening. I felt as if my soul would explode.
Finally, at about 9 in the morning, his nurse needed to come in to deal with scheduled care that he needed. I decided to take a break and go to the cafeteria to get a drink. I got what I wanted and sat in a quiet corner in the back of the cafeteria. As I sat there, my grief began to overwhelm me yet again.
I buried my face in my hands as the ache in my heart seemed to be too overwhelming. I wished so badly that I could run from this trial. I wished I could burst open the walls of Liberty Jail and run free and far from all the pain that was there, and then I heard a voice.
An Answer
As I sat there, with my face buried and my soul crying in utter pain and grief and my heart hurting more than I thought I could ever bear, I heard the voice of an angel telling me in full force and conviction:
“Go to the temple, NOW!”
I put my head up and sat up quickly, completely startled. I looked around, nobody was within 50 feet of me and, YES, I did hear that voice! I gathered my things and walked, no, I RAN, back upstairs to the ICU. I began making arrangements to be gone for the time I needed.
Doctors, family, and friends started showing up at the hospital. There was much to take care of and it seemed as though the adversary was attempting to keep me from going to the temple, but I knew I’d heard a voice and I was determined to follow it. As difficult as it had been in the previous days to leave his side at all, I felt complete comfort that all be fine.
During the time I drove home to change and grab my things for the temple, I made phone calls. I had decided that for a 24-hour family fast we were starting that day at 4 pm, I was going to extend it to any and all who were willing to participate.
But, more specifically, I asked those who were getting the word out to explain that this fast was for a miracle. . . for the miracle that had been promised on my husband’s head four days earlier in that priesthood blessing. It was bold, chock full of extreme faith, but it was also what he had been promised and so it was what we were going to ask for.
Peace Be unto Thy Soul
The light had finally filled me. I heard that voice and though the walls of Liberty Jail still stood, an opening had appeared and I had seen the light fill the room. Through that light, peace had been able to enter my soul and I could feel Heavenly Father’s and the Savior’s love in such a way that the darkness that surrounded me disappeared. That short moment of the adversary attempting to destroy my faith and belief, as well as my confidence in all that I knew, had passed.
Though I still did not know how I was going to get out of that room in Liberty Jail—buried in the ground with two-foot walls surrounding me and ceilings where I could not stand straight while I sat on the cold hard ground, I knew I was not in that room alone. I was with the children, our families, our friends, the doctors, and nurses. Everyone felt heartbroken. And grief and pain filled every person over this rare and unfortunate circumstance.
Unbeknownst to me, my brother, as well as others, had posted on Facebook regarding the grim circumstances we were facing, humbly asking that anyone willing participate in our fast for a great and God-given miracle. Word spread quickly. By that afternoon, hundreds and hundreds were aware through the fast-growing spread of word on social media and decided to participate in this great conquest of faith.
“But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right…” Doctrine and Covenants 6:8.
Obeying the Voice
As I sat in the Boise temple, alongside a dear friend that I’d asked to accompany me, my heart and soul were completely engulfed in peace and comfort. My burden felt light and the adversary was unable to influence my thoughts in any way with his darkness.
I contemplated the great power of Heavenly Father and the Savior and I thought to myself “They can do this. If They want him to heal, They will do it. It’s just about whether or not it is Their will.” I paused for a moment, accepted that, and then said in my thoughts “Okay. We will flood the heavens with prayers. . . and if this is not Their will, then I know They will, somehow, get me through this.” And that was that. I was filled with peace.
“Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things. Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?” Doctrine and Covenants 6:22-23
Soon afterwards, I entered the Celestial room and found a seat.
I’ll never forget, I sat on the left end of the sofa, right directly in front of a beautiful table holding a large display of perfectly arranged flowers in a tall and elegant vase. I rested my head back and stared at the exquisite chandelier that hung above the flowers, centered in the middle of a stunning glass window ceiling.
As I sat and stared at these things, the Spirit filled not just my heart, not just my soul, but my entire body with an intense, and bright, and indescribable burning.
“…and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right” Doctrine & Covenants 6:8.
This burning filled everything inside of me. I actually found it a bit difficult to breathe and attempted to catch my breath multiple times.
My friend joined me shortly after and she noticed my abnormal breathing. She held my hand and sat by my side, bringing me comfort and love. The feeling was intense and bright. It was confidence, faith, happiness, boldness, strength, knowledge, hope and determination.
The Savior had literally heard my cries and answered my prayers in an undeniable way, giving me everything I needed to endure whatever lay ahead. And the strength He gave to me in those moments lifted everyone else as well through this unknown process.
That day I walked into the temple, asking for a miracle. I walked out of the temple KNOWING we would get it.
Thine Afflictions Shall Be But a Small Moment
Later that night, I was finally alone in my husband’s room, the only noise coming from the soft purr of the machine helping him breath. I found a scripture and I decided to post it on Facebook. It was Moroni 7:26-29, 33 which in part says
“Wherefore, my beloved brethren, have miracles ceased because Christ hath ascended into heaven, and hath sat down on the right hand of God…Behold, I say unto you, Nay…Christ hath said: If ye will have faith in me ye shall have power to do whatsoever thing is expedient in me.”
The time was 11:54 pm, on June 6, 2015. In six minutes it would no longer be our anniversary but my birthday.
I clicked ‘post’ and then looked up at my husband and thought “I know you will be okay, but how long and how hard will this be?” I then started to do a few things to prepare for sleeping. As I moved about the room and was about to leave for a few minutes, I noticed in the corner of my eye some movement and looked over just in time to see my husband lift his right hand up from his side and set it softly on to his stomach. I froze.
I slowly went to him and looked closely at his face but there was nothing. I decided to hold the hand that had just moved, and then calmly said, “Jeremy, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand.”
He squeezed.
My eyes couldn’t open any more than they were! I said it again, “Honey, if you hear what I am saying, squeeze my hand again!”
He squeezed again and this time harder.
I stood up straight while still holding his hand. His eyes weren’t open and he still had the breathing tube in his mouth. I put my other hand over my mouth in shock. I decided to be sure and try one more time.
“Honey, squeeze my hand again!”
He squeezed again. At which point I screamed the name of his nurse, who came tearing into the room, believing “this was it” and my husband was coding. I told him what happened—but in disbelief of the possibility, he was not nearly as excited as I was! So, he decided to try and see for himself.
Then he began: “Jeremy, if you can hear what I am saying, lift your thumb.”
He lifted his thumb!
The nurse paused a moment, raised his eyebrows, and decided to try one more time. “Jeremy, do it again for me, give me a thumbs up and lift your thumb.”
Not only did he lift his thumb, but he squeezed his fist, giving him a real ‘thumbs up’!
It was 12:10am. 16 minutes after I posted the scripture about miracles and faith. 10 minutes into my birthday, 9 hours after I walked into the temple, and right smack in the middle of our 24-hour fast where literally hundreds and hundreds of people were praying and fasting for that miracle!
God manifested His power right before my eyes and I was a witness to the truthfulness of the Savior’s atoning and healing powers brought about through faith.
Joseph Smith said “A person may profit by noticing the first intimation of the spirit of revelation; for instance, when you feel pure intelligence flowing into you, it may give you sudden strokes of ideas, so that by noticing it, you may find it fulfilled the same day or soon; those things that were presented unto your minds by the Spirit of God, will come to pass; and thus by learning the Spirit of God and understanding it, you may grow into the principle of revelation, until you become perfect in Christ Jesus.”
If Thou Endure It Well…
During the coming days, every minute of every day brought more and more progress for my husband’s recovery. Every day the doctors told me “We don’t know how good he’ll get or how far his progress will go.” He continued to defy all their expectations and surpassed anything they could have ever hoped for his initial prognosis. The doctors admit now that they had nothing to do with his being alive!
Recovery’s Bumpy Road
Still, the road was bumpy. His recovery included an additional surgery! An emergency craniotomy was required due to bleeding in the right side of his brain, the site of one stroke. The surgery hoped to drain and clean the area. After the craniotomy, his progress continued even more rapidly!
Though doctors and therapists all believed he would be in the hospital and a rehabilitation center for an unknown amount of time, Jeremy was released exactly one month to the day from his original surgery. After heart surgery on June 3, emergency craniotomy June 18, Jeremy entered a rehabilitation facility June 23, and was discharged to go home and sleep in his own bed on July 3. As his doctor once said “June of 2015 is one we shall never forget!”
Though his recovery was truly as “speedy” and “miraculous” as his blessing promised, he still has bumps in the road. We still have not left Liberty Jail.
In fact, I have found that it is rather pleasant to be here. I’m a decorator by trade and help others make their homes the beautiful sanctuaries that they desire. So, of course, I relate it to that.
It’s as if the Lord told me I would be there for a while, and I really have no idea how long. He gave me some paint and brushes, and some beautiful fabrics, and told me to do with it what I can. Some days I could see His vision for what the walls will become. I try mixing a few paint colors and put it on one wall, and I like it. Then days later I figure out that it needs something more, so I add a design with the help of the Lord.
Then He shows me that another wall needs a window, with a drape. So, I spend days, sometimes weeks, carving out that window. I have an idea for a drape in mind, but by the time I finish that window, I realize the view I have needs a different frame around it. So, I redesign it. And always with the Lord’s help, it develops into an entirely different look than I originally thought it would be, and it’s much better.
Some days I go about cleaning that room until it hits me that it’s time to put paint on another wall. Other days, the paint peels or the fabric tears, and I have to search for a new resolution and answer to my “decorating woes.”
And so it goes, day after day, which has turned into nearly nine months now of being in that tiny Liberty Jail. I don’t notice the draft anymore, I don’t mind the hard floor. I still can’t stand up but I don’t care, I can lay and stretch my limbs whenever I want!
My husband is amazing! In fact, he is my hero. He has learned a patience that he never had before. His body is strong and active and nearly perfect again. He is a lawyer by trade and is back to work full time and, though his memory and knowledge are still intact, his mind, in some ways, is not quite what it originally was. So we press on, helping him rehabilitate and heal, all the while trusting in the Lord’s will.
This week my heart ached and hurt intensely for him. I went to the temple and literally cried the entire time. Nobody knew what my heartbreak was except for me and the Lord. The two ladies that sat on either side of me did not know me, but they saw the stream of tears rolling down my face the entire time and comforted and loved me. Other ladies in there watched over me and helped me, and I could feel their love and concern blazing through their warm eyes and loving smiles. The Savior was with me.
The Lord has helped me find a way to love the Liberty Jail that I am experiencing. They are not walls that confine me and stifle me, but instead, it is my own room for learning and experiencing incredible growth.
The night we first learned of the strokes, I had a conversation with the children. I told them we had no idea where things were going to lead, but all of us needed to have faith and watch for the blessings—if we didn’t, they would pass us by and we would miss out on the good things at work. I’m grateful I opened my own eyes and watched for the blessings because it was a glorious site to see the Lord surround me with His love in so many unforeseen ways.
Greater Because of Him
“…if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my [daughter], that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?” Doctrine and Covenants 122:7-8.
No. I am not greater than Him, but I am greater because of Him. It is for that reason, I will accept being cast into my own Liberty Jail, so that I can become what He wants and needs me to be. With my recent experience in the temple, I found that the Lord accelerated me to a new level. He now allows me to furnish my Liberty Jail room with rare and beautiful antiques that I am happily refurbishing to fill the room with greater beauty!
My testimony has grown to be as solid and exquisite as the furniture, fabrics, and paint colors I have truly come to love and enjoy. I have grown, literally, in EVERY aspect of the gospel. I am so internally and eternally grateful for a gracious and loving Heavenly Father who knows me and what I need.
My love for the Savior and all that He has done for me has brought me to my knees in ways like never before. And my love and gratitude for a young, faithful, and inquisitive Joseph Smith, whose choices resulted in the restoration of the gospel as well his own lessons in trials and tribulations that lift me to higher ground, is unending and undeniable. I am happy and grateful to thank each of them, through the choices I make every day.
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