Life Skills
Learning to Minister in the Splash Zone
Could I really minister to someone going through cancer?
Brother and Sister Darley were assigned to serve in my young single adult ward during my last year of college. Because of their deeply loving and devoted natures, my friends and I came to affectionately refer to them as Brother and Sister Darling.
This faithful couple attended our ward nearly every Sunday, participated in weekday activities, and not only remembered nearly everyone’s name but also took an interest in our lives.
Sister Darley had short, bright silver hair from her fight against breast cancer. But because she always seemed so happy and energetic, no one worried too much about her condition. She and her husband were an integral part of our ward family—we wouldn’t be the same without them.
That’s why everyone was shocked when Sister Darley announced that her health situation had worsened drastically and she would be undergoing more intensive treatments.
At one point during those treatments, we walked into church to see Sister Darley sitting on the stand; we were grateful to learn that she was feeling strong enough to give a talk.
When Sister Darley stood to speak, we watched her pull out a piece of paper and carefully tape it to the edge of the pulpit where the congregation could see it. On the paper in large letters was written, “Splash Zone.”
She explained that her recent trials had her emotions right at the surface, and she jokingly warned those sitting on the front pew that they may want to move back unless they wanted to get wet.
As I looked at the “Splash Zone” sign, I heard the Spirit whisper, “Would you be willing to sit in her splash zone?”
I could see how ministering to someone going through a difficult trial like hers would probably involve getting a little wet. Or, in other words, it might be difficult to watch and could require a lot of time and emotional energy.
Could I do that?
Ministering, in really any form, has always intimidated me a bit. Throughout college, I’d become more comfortable going to briefly visit people or bringing over cookies for their birthday (thank you, grocery-store bakery). And I was in the habit of talking to those I ministered to at church or during activities, but could I really help someone with cancer?
That thought was overwhelming and a little scary.
But as I listened to Sister Darley speak, I knew she didn’t need second- or third-row ministering; she needed right-up-in-the-splash-zone ministering. She needed us to really “mourn with those that mourn … and comfort those that stand in need of comfort” (Mosiah 18:9), even if that meant getting close enough to get splashed.
So I began pondering what that sort of ministering would look like. Maybe it would be calling to ask how Sister Darley was doing and then really listening, even if her situation was sobering. Maybe it meant stopping to think what it would be like if you received a cancer diagnosis. Or it could be consistently praying for her, for more than a few days.
As the Spirit continued to bring ideas to my mind, I realized something: these were all things that I could do. Maybe ministering to Sister Darley wouldn’t be impossible.
The imagery of sitting in the splash zone also helped me understand that I didn’t need to try to solve Sister Darley’s problems. I couldn’t take away her cancer and its effects, but I could sit with her so she wasn’t alone.
With those realizations, I wanted to stand up in the middle of her talk and move to sit right in the center of Sister Darley’s splash zone. Why? Because I loved Sister Darley. And because I knew that if the Savior were there, He would be sitting in her splash zone. The same way He had sat in mine.
Through seeking to serve Sister Darley, I now know that we don’t need to be afraid of ministering, because the Savior will be there too. Serving others will sometimes stretch us, but the Savior won’t ask us to do something we can’t do (see 1 Nephi 3:7). And I can testify that we will come to know Him even better as we serve with Him in the splash zone.