Samuel ached all over: his wrist was bruised from training, his ribs were still healing from being broken in the last battle, and his feet were sore from marching all across the land. He-and the other two thousand sons-had been fighting the Lamanites for months, and there were no signs of the war ending soon. It was beginning to feel like their whole life was a battlefield, and ever would be.
As tempting as it was, Samuel did not allow himself to complain. He had chosen to defend his people. It had been his choice to come into the war, despite being only a young man. He needed to be grateful to God for the blessing of being alive still, not bitter about the pains he suffered.
Time and again, Samuel though about his family, back in the land of Jershon. He wondered how Kamei was doing; she had been so afraid for him, and probably still was. He prayed for her every night, hoping her fears would cease, asking for her to be comforted. Being so far from home, Samuel could not see the effects of his pleadings in person, but he had faith that God would be looking out for her the same way that He was protecting him.
As Helaman ordered camp to be taken down, Samuel did his best to pack the supplies. It was time to march again.
Kamei stared at the stormy horizon, worry gnawing at her heart. If Samuel or Eder were to be caught in that storm...
"Kamei! Stop daydreaming and help your mother!"
Jolted out of her thoughts, the young girl obeyed her father and joined her mother on the hillside, weaving cloth for new clothes. Kamei could hardly focus on what her fingers were doing, no matter what effort she put forth. Her thoughts were so jumbled and she felt so anxious all the time that these daily tasks bordered on impossible to finish.
Her mother saw her daughter's discomfort and rested her hand on Kamei's shoulder.
"Perhaps you should tell me what makes you so frantic. I may help."
"Oh mother," she whispered. "I know God will look out for Samuel and Eder and all the other two thousand, but I feel so afraid for him! I can't help but worry, and when I worry, I can't think and then I forget to do my work and...and."
Caught up in the emotion, Kamei was unable to speak more, struggling not to hyperventallate. Her mother stroked her hair, gently shushing her.
"Perhaps you should pray," her mother suggested. Kamei shook her head frantically.
"I've prayed so hard, but I don't feel any better. Why do I not feel better? I've asked and asked and asked but I'm still so afraid and worried for them. What if they come back crippled? Or worse, not at all? I don't think I could bear it!"
She broke down, sobbing on her mother's shoulder. Her mother continued to stroke Kamei's long brown hair, embracing the frightened girl, an action of loving comfort.
"Perhaps," her mother suggested as Kamei calmed down. "you should pray for your own peace. God's will is what it is, and if Samuel should die fighting the Lamanites, then so be it. I have learned this for myself and now know peace, and I think you should pray for the same. It does you no good to worry yourself to death."
Kamei shuddered as she breathed deeply, trying to compose herself. She did not think that singling out her desire to be calm would help: God knew all. He certainly knew that she wanted to know it would be okay, like everyone else. Why did the knowledge not come? Where was her answer?
Oh God, she though, why are you silent?
The answer was simple: Ask, and it will be given you. Seek and Ye shall find. Knock and the door shall be opened.
