How Could I Not Be Happy?

By Bradford G. Smith, Arizona, USA

I have a terminal disease that has left me a quadriplegic, but thanks to technology that lets me type with my eyes, I will continue to share my testimony of God’s plan of happiness until He calls me home.

I have a terminal disease that has a 100 percent death rate. Why am I not angry with God? Because He has proven faithful in hard times, and I have learned to trust Him.

Soon after my oldest son was born, he was diagnosed with a birth defect called Hirschsprung’s disease. He spent time in the neonatal intensive care unit, required home care, and underwent surgery. It was a scary time.

Around the same time, my dream job turned into a nightmare. Everything fell apart around me, culminating in my mentor and me losing our jobs. I would come home after long days at work and lie on the floor, lamenting.

My daughter also has Hirschsprung’s disease. On top of that, she suffers from a heart defect and has Down syndrome. She spent her first few weeks on the earth in the hospital. After three major surgeries, she is a sweet ball of smiles. At first, her diagnosis felt like a tragedy, but now it feels more like a blessing. Despite some hard times, she has taught our family love and patience. She brings joy to simple moments, never ceases to surprise us, and makes people happy wherever she goes.

Through all of this, I thought of the Prophet Joseph Smith locked in the miserable pit of Liberty Jail. The Savior comforted him with a bigger picture: “Know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. The Son of Man hath descended below them all” (Doctrine and Covenants 122:7–8).

A photograph taken before I was diagnosed with ALS. As I think about my challenges, I try to remember how blessed I’ve been in my life. My amazing wife will be my partner for eternity if we keep our covenants, and I will have great joy in my posterity.

Photograph by Lisa Harbertson

A Gospel Perspective

Through my trials, my testimony of Jesus Christ gave me a sense of perspective. I realized that many other sons and daughters have descended way below me. So, I have learned that I can be grateful in my trials. Knowing now how much I have learned from the misery I have endured, somehow those challenges don’t seem as hard as they felt in the moment.

Late in 2018, I was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, better known as ALS or Lou Gehrig’s disease—a rare, terminal, neurological disease. ALS kills the motor neurons connecting my brain to my muscles. My mind still runs at the normal rate, and I understand everything people say to me, but I can no longer control muscles except my eyes. Communicating is hard and slow for me, now that I must use my eyes to type on a device what I want to say.

ALS has left me a quadriplegic, depending on a machine to breathe and on my wife, Tiffany, for everything else. My disease will likely take my life before I see my children grow up. I published a book of my lessons and talks for them and others to read after I am gone.

As I think about my challenges, however, I try to remember how blessed I’ve been in my life. I’ve traveled the world, learned about many different cultures, spoken with a president of the United States, dined with the prime minister of Syria, and stood on snow-capped mountaintops in wonder of their beauty.

More important, I’ve laughed—loud and long—with my parents, siblings, family, and friends. I’ve stood in holy places, learned from the teachings of living prophets, and served in the temple. I’ve invited others to come unto Christ and find happiness. My amazing wife will be my partner for eternity if we keep our covenants, and I will have great joy in my posterity.

With this perspective of gratitude, how could I not be happy? ALS is not fun, and it is clearly the low point of my life. But it is not low enough to counter my happiness.

What I Have Learned

I have come to see ALS as a calling, and I am trying to magnify it. In fact, I expect to look back on this disease and laugh—grateful for what this challenge has helped me become. And if that is how I will see things later, why not see them that way now?

I don’t want to give the impression that this challenge is easy. It took me a long time to get my emotions and fear under control. I have learned a lot as my physical body has faded away.

I have learned about how God sometimes gives us blessings. At first, we are called to do something that seems hard—or even impossible! Then the Lord teaches us and lifts us through His grace, or the “enabling power” made possible by His Atonement. Only after we get to the other side of the task do we see His hand and His blessings in our lives. As President Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018) taught: “Do not pray for tasks equal to your abilities, but pray for abilities equal to your tasks. Then the performance of your tasks will be no miracle, but you will be the miracle.”

That pattern has happened to me over and over. So, I have faith that ALS will turn out the same way for me.

mother and children — My disease will likely take my life before I see my children grow up. I published a book of my lessons and talks for them and others to read after I am gone. Until the end comes for me, I am trying to magnify my calling and be more like Jesus.

If the gospel is true, President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) once shared, “then what else really matters?” I am learning a lot about what really matters. In my trials, I have learned that the God of the universe loves me. Looking back, I can see His hand in my life. Each trial I have faced has prepared me for the next. ALS was not in my plans, but I have learned that “His ways are not our ways.”

God loves us exactly wherever we are right now, but He also wants so much more from us. We are nowhere near the finish line. We have a long way to go, but we need to be “a little better each day.” Because God loves us, He asks us to step up, be better, and follow Him.

When asked a question he did not know how to answer, the Book of Mormon prophet Nephi relied on what he already knew: “I know that [God] loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things” (1 Nephi 11:17).

I believe that no matter how hard, unjust, unfair, or painful this life may seem, we will all be very happy with the final balance of scales. Our choices will trump our circumstances.

“It will all be all right in the end, and if it’s not all right, it’s not the end,” says a popular adage. The Lord Himself has said:

“Ye cannot behold with your natural eyes, for the present time, the design of your God concerning those things which shall come hereafter, and the glory which shall follow after much tribulation.

“For after much tribulation come the blessings. Wherefore the day cometh that ye shall be crowned with much glory” (Doctrine and Covenants 58:3–4).

I don’t know the meaning of all things. But I know that God loves me. He loves you too. His perfect love casts away my fears (see Moroni 8:16). Until the end comes for me, I am trying to magnify my calling and be more like Jesus.

Thanks to technology that lets me type with my eyes, I will continue to share my testimony and my faith in God’s plan of happiness until He calls me home.