From YA Weekly
If I Couldn’t Do What I Loved Anymore, Who Would I Be?
When I lost what I thought defined me, I learned that being a child of God is the identity that matters most.
Photograph courtesy of the author
Volleyball has always been a big part of my life. I ate, slept, and breathed volleyball! After graduating from high school, I received a scholarship to play for a university.
But before the school year started, my doctor explained that due to my Marfan syndrome—a condition that affects the main valve of my heart—it was risky for me to play. My university medically disqualified me from playing. I could keep my scholarship, but I couldn’t compete.
I was devastated. I still tried to stay close to the Lord, but my heart ached. I had always seen myself as a volleyball player. Without that, who was I?
Acting on a Prompting
One day after practice, a teammate and I passed a small shop with a “Help Wanted” sign. I hadn’t been looking for a job, but with extra time on my hands, I thought this could be a fun distraction and was hired the same day.
The job brought some happiness and purpose to my life, but since I still traveled with the volleyball team throughout the season, I struggled with feeling like I was so close and yet so far from my volleyball dreams.
One night, I knelt and prayed, “Heavenly Father, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” As I sat in silence, I felt prompted to read my patriarchal blessing. One thought kept coming to my mind: “Serve a mission.”
I tried to push the thought away. I’d never wanted to serve. But the prompting persisted.
When I told my parents I was considering serving, my dad’s response was blunt: “Why? You have free education. Are they going to hold your scholarship?”
“No,” I replied.
“Who’s going to pay for your mission?”
Then it clicked. That “fun little job” I’d gotten wasn’t random; it was a tender mercy that would help me pay for my mission.
I told my dad I’d cover the costs and testified to him that obedience brings blessings. I soon received a call to serve in Australia. The sadness I’d felt so deeply was replaced with peace and joy. I knew I was where the Lord wanted me to be.
Discovering My Divine Identity
On my mission, I learned that I’m so much more than just a volleyball player.
As President Russell M. Nelson (1924–2025) taught:
“If any label replaces your most important identifiers, the results can be spiritually suffocating. …
“… No identifier should displace, replace, or take priority over these three enduring designations: ‘child of God,’ ‘child of the covenant,’ and ‘disciple of Jesus Christ.’”
When things change—and they will—my identity as a child of heavenly parents and disciple of Jesus Christ remains constant.
After my mission, I returned to school. Before I served, my heart valve had been dangerously dilated, so I wasn’t considering playing volleyball again. But I prayed for guidance and read my patriarchal blessing, which gave me a quiet reassurance.
Seeking and Expecting Miracles
After returning home, I attended general conference. Sister Kristin M. Yee, Second Counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency, shared a story about a painting she had done of the Savior. She accidentally applied varnish too early, smearing the work she had poured her heart into. She prayed and worked through the night to fix it.
“I remember looking at the painting in the morning—it looked better than it did before. … What I thought was a mistake without mend was an opportunity for His merciful hand to be manifest. He was not done with the painting, and He was not done with me.”
I felt the Spirit whisper that the Lord wasn’t done with me either. He cared about my desire to play volleyball again.
I decided to see a cardiologist. After reviewing my latest scans, he looked stunned.
“What have you been doing the past 18 months?” he asked.
“I served a mission,” I said, puzzled.
“Well, your heart valve was 4.6 centimeters before. Now it’s 3.94 centimeters. That’s unheard of. It … shrank.”
A second specialist confirmed it: My heart had improved. I wasn’t just stable; I was cleared to play volleyball again.
Soon after, a different university offered me a spot on their team—with a scholarship. I know this wasn’t coincidence but a miracle.
As President Nelson counseled, “Seek and expect miracles.” I’ve learned that as we stay obedient and remember our divine identity, the Lord magnifies our efforts. He guides us, heals us, and can open doors we thought were closed forever.