A pain that changed everything

On April 3, 2022, Bethany Vaught, a junior majoring in family studies, went to the gym to focus on improving her physical, mental and spiritual well-being. She did not know that by the end of the night, she would be fighting for her life.

"I was working out that evening. I was pulling down the lat bar when I felt something funny near my collarbone," Vaught recalled. "At first, I thought it was just a muscle strain, but the second time I did the motion, the pain got worse. That's when I knew something wasn't right."

Vaught went to the emergency room. Doctors initially thought it might be a panic attack, but ran a precautionary CT scan before sending her home.

The results changed everything.

"The doctor came back and told me, 'Vaught, you have a dissection in your aorta,'" she said.

The tear in her aorta had already spread from the ascending to the descending aorta. Immediate surgery was required to save her life.

Within minutes, Vaught was flown to a specialized hospital in Utah for emergency surgery. There was less than a 15% chance that she would survive the plane ride and the surgery was equally risky.

"He asked if I wanted anxiety meds, but I wasn't anxious," Vaught shared. "I just felt weak. I told him, 'I know my chances,' and I trusted the medical team."

The surgery lasted 12 and a half hours.

When Vaught woke up in the intensive care unit, disoriented and intubated, she had beaten the odds.

Learning to live again

Though the surgery was a success, the road to recovery was still long. Doctors had initially predicted that she would need six to eight weeks in the hospital, but Vaught was discharged after just 10 days.

Vaught was later diagnosed with Marfan syndrome, a genetic connective tissue disorder that had caused her aortic dissection. The diagnosis explained several of her health issues but also brought new limitations.

"Marfan syndrome explained a lot," she said. "But it also meant no more basketball, no more volleyball and I couldn't even go skydiving for my 30th birthday like I had planned."

Eight months after surgery, Vaught faced another challenge: depression.

"I didn't want to hurt myself, but I didn't want to keep living like that either," Vaught said. "It was one of the hardest things I've ever gone through. But I leaned on my friends and faith, and that's what kept me going."

The years following her surgery have not been easy. She maintained a job all while dealing with frequent hospital visits, call-ins and medical bills. Vaught said this experience was difficult but not completely unmanageable.

When loss came again

In the winter of 2026, Vaught thought things were beginning to look up.

She had received a full scholarship for the semester and was excited to move forward with classes and see what Heavenly Father had in store for her.

Three days after classes started, her mother was flown to a hospital in Texas. She did not survive the same surgery Vaught had undergone three years earlier.

Vaught flew to Texas and planned her mother's funeral while also planning a family home evening activity from nearly 1,500 miles away.

Vaught's family are not members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Yet at her mother's funeral, Vaught bore her testimony.

One of her mother's best friends came by to hug her and whispered in her ear, 'Your mom loved you so much, but your decisions broke her heart.'

Vaught maintained her composure and did not cry.

The second she returned to Idaho, Vaught drove straight to FHE with the intention of following through with the activity she had planned while she was away.

She convinced herself she could not be broken.

While at the activity, Vaught asked a friend for a blessing because she knew she needed one.

During the blessing, Vaught was okay. But when her friend went in for a hug she broke down.

"The tears were finally flowing because I had felt safe," she said. "I think the confidence of knowing Heavenly Father still saw me in the hardest moment of my life, I finally felt secure enough to lose it."

Faith in the middle of a storm

Just 17 days after her mother passed away, Vaught's grandmother unexpectedly passed away.

Vaught called her ministering brother with a simple request, to receive a blessing.

Throughout Vaught's journey in the church, she has come to realize that blessings are not something reserved for when life gets difficult.

"Blessings are not for when things get bad, they're for me now and always. They're not a last resort, they're my knee jerk reaction," she said.

Vaught has struggled with her relationship with the church. There have been times she wanted to go inactive, and has said built resentment toward Relief Society.

Yet she was never angry at God.

"I never got angry at God, though. At situations, yes, but never at Heavenly Father," she said. "I knew that I did not get this far to only get this far, and although I felt lonely at times, I was never truly alone."

For the past five years, Vaught has been called resilient more times than she can count. She used to roll her eyes at the word because she felt she had no other choice but to push through.

This past semester, she began to see resilience differently.

"I realized that faith can take the form of resilience," Vaught said. "Who I am and who I have become are not because I pushed through, it's because of Who I have trusted and pushed through with."

Vaught shared she has also learned that asking for help does not make someone weak and the that the power of ministering has always been a huge reason she hasn't given up.

The power of being carried

Vaught once told her ministering brother that if she ever disappeared or stopped coming to church, he had permission to smack her.

"When life gets us down, sometimes the biggest act of faith we can have is asking others for help," Vaught said. "If it were not for my ministering brothers, I can confidently say I would not be where I am today."

Vaught has also seen the impact of people who entered her life years ago.

When BYU-Idaho changed its living policy, Vaught struggled in the beginning. A family she had worked for three years earlier welcomed her into their home and considered her apart of their own family.

Since her mother's death, Vaught and her father have also found some reconciliation.

"He has actively tried to be in my life and it's been incredible seeing how that has happened," Vaught said. "God is intimately aware of us and knows the desires of our hearts. Even if it takes almost five years for our prayers to be answered."

Finding Christ without all the answers

As a convert, Vaught once thought that if all of her questions were answered, her testimony could be sure.

Instead, she has found Christ most often in the places where she had the fewest answers.

"The moments that have changed me the most have not been the moments where God explained everything," Vaught said. "They have been the moments where He seemed silent just long enough for me to decide whether I trusted Him anyway."

Vaught has been given the opportunity to do her mother's and grandmother's temple work, which she describes as the most bittersweet experience she has ever had.

"It took losing my mom for my testimony of an eternal family to be solidified as it has," she said. "God is good, even when our circumstances are not."

Faith that becomes resilience

Vaught does not believe her trails are meant to be wasted.

After surviving an aortic dissection, depression, the loss of her mother and the loss of her grandmother, Vaught continues to move forward and has learned that she does not have to face it alone.

"The comfort He gives us today often becomes the comfort He asks us to offer someone else tomorrow," she said.

Vaught said her life since joining the Church has not been filled with "sunshine," but the darkness has made the moments when the light breaks through feel even brighter. Life can become incredibly difficult, she said, but that doesn't mean it's time to give up.