“Change and decay in all around I see—O, Thou who changest not, abide with me.”

It’s hard to remember a time I wasn’t dealing with a great deal of change. It seems that change is something that’s always with us, in one form or another. I’ve occasionally wished I could have one change at a time, instead of navigating through a storm of changes all at once, but I don’t get to choose most of the timing. So here I am, in the middle of COVID 19 lockdown, moving my family to a new home across town.

I’ve been planning a move and looking at houses for years. Last November, the timing finally felt right, the place felt right, and, as I started the wheels in motion, everything fell into place quickly and easily. It was a miracle to me. It seemed a long-awaited dream of a smaller, more manageable home and a new start, with the opportunity to make new memories, and lay some others to rest, was finally coming true. On the very day I signed the contract for our new house, on the way home in my car, I received the news that my mom might have cancer. While my new house was being built, I was unexpectedly home caring for my mom, who did indeed have widespread and aggressive cancer, and trying to cope with the intensity and sadness of that reality.

There’s no way I ever would have imagined all that occurred in that small window of time.  Although some days, some moments, seemed like an eternity, the time was so short, and in a blink, it seemed, everything changed. I felt confused and disoriented. On one hand, I was the brave woman, filled with hope, planning and envisioning a new space and new opportunities; on the other, I was the overwhelmed caregiver, preparing to say goodbye to my mom for a very long time. My mom—who’d been with me since Dad died six years ago, who’d been nearby my entire life, who’d been a comforting, constant presence these last four years during my divorce and the mournful times that followed—wouldn’t be moving with us. She had her own new start coming. How had everything changed so quickly? From the first suspicion of cancer to a last goodbye, was less than 3 months. From the first possibility of moving, to the blessing of serving my mom for the last time, in all the change and uncertainty, the one constant was the help of the Lord. He was in the details. He never left me comfortless. He walked beside me and held me up when I didn’t think I could make it one more step.

“Be still, my soul: The Lord is on thy side; With patience bear thy cross of grief or pain. Leave to thy God to order and provide; In ev’ry change He faithful will remain.” 

Here I am, now, sitting in my new home. After all the planning, the details, the packing, the worrying about how the business closures might affect moving, the physical and emotional toll of picking up every part of my life and transferring it to another place, we are here. The house is wonderful, beautiful, and clean, with a place for each of us, and a comfy gathering spot, as well. It’s a dream come true to have everything close—more compact—and…no stairs! This home—like our previous home—will be dedicated to the Lord, invite and welcome the Spirit, and serve as a refuge from a world in chaos. I’m filled with joy, knowing the Lord loves me and has been with me through it all.

“I need Thee every hour, Stay Thou nearby…I need Thee, O, I need Thee.”

It’s been a strange time to live and to relocate. It feels so isolated moving without knowing a soul in our new ward—our church family. We met a few people when we attended, as luck would have it, the week before church gathering was suspended. We cried at our front door, in the home we left, as members of our ward family, dear friends, drove by in a loving, social-distanced parade to wave goodbye, while my daughter’s friend sweetly sang to us on our porch. They’ve been our extended family for 25 years. Though they’re still only 20 minutes away, we feel a bit dislocated. Thankfully, we’re blessed to have a big, supportive family. We couldn’t have even accomplished our move without them. I can’t really express how thankful I am for family members who have been there for us, risked coming out to help us, became professional movers and cable installers, ran errands and did grocery shopping, called and texted and joined in the hubbub, and, most of all, shared in our excitement and happiness, even amidst the trials of a pandemic.  

With the hardest part of the move over, and most of the unpacking done, things are settling down a little. In the quietness, my heart has begun the long process of grieving the loss of my mom.  I was amazed how much I felt her near during my move. I kept some of her things, and having them around me makes me think of her and miss her terribly.  I can feel her happiness for me. So many times I’ve wanted to tell her or show her something I knew she’d enjoy. I still have trouble thinking back on those painful, though often sweet, days of her illness, but that will come. I won’t be alone as I process my pain, and it will be tempered by my treasured knowledge of the eternal nature of families. I’m so grateful for the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, found in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and temples of God on the earth.

“Fam’lies can be together forever, Through Heav’nly Father’s plan. I always want to be with my own family, And the Lord has shown me how I can.”

I don’t know why things happen the way they do, but I know, without a doubt. that our Heavenly Father and His Son, our Savior, have a plan, know what’s happening, and are willing to guide us along every step, if only we ask. Though I’m still reeling a bit from all the changes and feeling the pressure of world conditions like everyone else, I feel hope and joy knowing Jesus has overcome the world. I’m where he wants me to be and He’ll continue to abide with me.

“I need thy presence every passing hour; Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be? Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.”