My wife, Jane, and I stopped to visit my parents for a few minutes. There was a sadness in my parents' eyes. The next morning they were going to drive six hours to visit my 49-year-old cousin who was losing his battle with cancer. My cousin was in the palliative-care ward of the hospital for what little time he had left in mortality.After a short visit with my parents, I needed to drop Jane off at a meeting. While loading a few items in the car, I was surprised that the front passenger door of the car was open. With no kids around to blame, I shook my head and slammed the door hard with enough force to make sure it shut this time.After bidding farewell to my parents, Jane went to open the passenger door, and the handle moved, but the door did not open. We knew what that meant — the door had shut on the seat belt buckle. (Good thing I shut it hard the second time, right?) Because we were in a hurry to get Jane to her meeting, she squished into the back seat of the car and I drove her across town to her destination.Once Jane was dropped off at the meeting, I had several choices. First, if I ignored the seat belt problem, Jane could crawl across the driver's seat into the passenger seat and we could drive the 70 miles home without her wearing a seat belt. This option did not provide for Jane's physical safety as we drove through the night in deer country. My second option was to have Jane sit in the back seat while we drove home. Emotionally, it is not the same to visit with your spouse while one is in the front and the other in the back seat of the car. Holding hands — even for just a moment — might being a greater safety risk than no seat belt.Option three was to fix the door in the two hours Jane would be at the meeting. My first plan of action was to park the car underneath a street light in the mall parking lot. With the added light from overhead I could see what needed to be done. From the back seat I pushed and pulled the seat belt hoping to free the buckle. When that didn't work I tried to maneuver the seat belt from the driver's seat. I moved back and forth between the back seat and the driver's seat pulling and pushing the seat belt to no avail. My words of encouragement to the seat belt did not inspire the inanimate object to fix itself. After 15 minutes of pulling and pushing, leaning and twisting the only change in the situation is that my arm and back were sore.As I pondered what to do, I knew I needed to shift the door frame itself so we could get the buckle to move. I stopped at the next gas station and while they filled up the gas tank I borrowed their screw driver to fix my problem. The little five-in-one screw driver was too small and thin to get behind the door enough to shift the buckle's position. The two gas station attendants were busy with their work. Finally, I realized that I had done all I could do. I needed more help to solve this problem. My dad has an entire garage full of tools and he was only five minutes away. However as a 46-year-old male, I was reluctant to run home to ask for my father's help to fix my car. I felt foolish at having created the problem, especially because it took that second hard slam to get the door to shut. I told myself that it was too late to go over and bother my parents, but it was barely 8:30 p.m. — and I knew they were still awake. The bottom line was if I did not access help, Jane's ride home in the back seat would be one she would never forget — for all the wrong reasons. My real problem was that my pride did not allow me to go home and ask my father to help fix a problem that I had created.As desperation began to overcome my pride, another obstacle hit me. My parents had another concern on their mind as they were preparing for their six-hour drive tomorrow. My cousin's cancer brought an understandable sadness to them. I didn't want to annoy them with my minor problem.As I drove up to the front of their home, I phoned ahead to make sure it was OK if I came over. My mother recognized my voice — she knew who I was even through the crackle of the cell phone. She assured me they were available to help if I needed something.Heavenly Father knows us all by name as readily as my parents remembered me. Unlike my earthy parents, Heavenly Father already knows the trials I am facing. Our Savior Jesus Christ already has paid the price for whatever sin we have committed. All that remains is for us individually to access the account he paid for us.In the garage full of hundreds of tools. We found three that would hopefully free my imprisoned seat belt. The tools included a larger screw driver, a medium-size chisel and a small crow bar. If these failed there were many more to choose from.I asked Mom to stand outside the door and pull on the handle while I tried to manipulate the seat belt and the screw driver at the same time. Even with the chisel, I couldn't move door and pull on the seat belt at the same time. Mom pulled on the door periodically but we were getting no where.Finally, my father came out and looked over the situation. He took the chisel and pushed gently on the door frame while I pulled on the seat belt while Mom pulled on the door. In less than a minute the door was open, my imprisoned seat belt buckle was now free to return to its proper place.I thanked my parents for their help in solving a problem that I could not solve on my own. I could have spent hours trying in vain to solve this problem with my own strength. Once again I had been humbled enough to overcome my stubborn pride to ask for the help. I needed to take this problem to my father because he had the tools and the ability to rescue my trapped seat belt.In our mortal lives we will face challenges that we cannot fix with our own strength no matter how hard we pull. Our Heavenly Father has the tools and the know how to help us fix every problem we face, no matter how stuck or unsolvable the problem may seem to us. I had to do my part — and once we worked together the seat belt was fixed.When I asked my parents for their help not once did they complain that they had other concerns on their minds. Heavenly Father is waiting for you to ask for his help. How many times has he been there with his tools ready to help us but we try to do it all alone?Our earthly parents will not always be available to help us. A day later my parents would not have been home to give me access to the tools or their help. Heavenly Father is always available and wanting to help you help yourself fix your problems.My dad has the annoying habit of teasing me. I fully expected that as he helped fix my seat belt he would come up with one of his not-so-funny one-liners. (They are funny when directed at someone else but not so funny when me while my seat belt remained trapped.) Before Dad got a chance to harass me, my mother pointed out that he had better watch how we fixed this because one day the seat belt in his truck was going to tangle in the same manner. As we approach our Heavenly Father with our problems he will greet us with love not ridicule. Our Savior paid the price for our sins and he knows the pain. Your Father and your Savior's only goal is to help to bring to pass your immortality and eternal life.My father has a garage full of tools to fix and build many things, but there are limitations to what he can repair. Your Heavenly Father has an unlimited tool box. As we seek his help he can fix things that seem beyond repair. He can use the tools of the Atonement to rid of us of our sins; his love can make us know we are never alone; the Holy Ghost can give us personal revelation in any area of our life and sometimes Father will send a member of our family or ward family to help us in our darkest hour.Good news! If you get your seat belt stuck in your door, I now know the tools and procedures needed to fix that problem. Likewise as we humble ourselves and ask to be of service — we can be tools that our Heavenly Father can use today to open doors that seem immovable.
Rob Ficiur is a teacher who lives in Bow Island, Alberta. He is the author of the novels "Trouble in Palmyra" and "Rescue the Prophet." E-mail: rob.ficiur@shaw.ca