“The Lord is good to all: and his tender mercies are over all his works.” Psalm 145:9

Months ago, I received the joyful news that my oldest daughter and her husband would welcome a new little one to their family in May 2020. It was a long way off, and I had no idea, at the time, all that would transpire before baby actually arrived, but I was happy and excited for all of us. I was also scared. I didn’t experience the same fear, so many years ago, when my own babies were ready to come into the world, but now, I worry much more about new babies and the dangers in selflessly bringing a new spirit to this crazy world. I feel admiration for the strength and faith of my daughter, who welcomes children to her family, at great physical and emotional cost to herself. Her pregnancies are complicated, and physical difficulties make recovery slow, but she’s willing to make the sacrifice. Oh, how sweet is the reward!

As I stumbled through the holidays in 2019, with my Mom’s shocking terminal cancer diagnosis, struggling to take care of her and grasp the sudden change in all our plans, I had this beautiful and sweet blessing to anticipate. Often, I found myself pondering the circle of life—how Mom would return to Heaven just before this little spirit came down to earth. I thought of my grandpa’s death before my son was born, Dad’s passing, not long after his grandson, who shares his middle name, joined our family. The older ones completing their journey, and the babies beginning theirs. I feel the connections. We are still family. Our sealing, in the temple of God, binds us together eternally. I could feel my mom watching over my precious daughter, as I prayed all night while she was in labor. I felt the joy of family, gone before, celebrating the start of a little one’s journey here below. Amid my worry and fear, I felt the comfort and joy of knowing there’s a plan, a Master Planner, and angels to help us carry out those plans.

“The simpleness, the sweetness, and the constancy of the tender mercies of the Lord will do much to fortify and protect us in the troubled times in which we do now and will yet live.” David A. Bednar

During the last trimester of my daughter’s pregnancy, our world was tossed into further turmoil by a world pandemic. I don’t know any expectant mothers, or grandmothers who were waiting to go help take care of them, who didn’t feel immense concern about the conditions in which their precious little ones would be born. Everyone was steering clear of hospitals and doctors’ offices, attempting to avoid contact with any who might be infected with, or carrying, COVID-19. However, we all know, babies don’t concern themselves with any of that, and they don’t wait.  They come when it’s time. I had to make a conscious effort, many times a day, to turn it all over to God, trust His goodness and His plan, and let Him carry it for me.

“Throughout time, even and especially during difficult times, prophets have encouraged us to remember the greatness of God and to consider what He has done for us as individuals, as families, and as a people…

“By considering Their kindness, our perspective and understanding are enlarged. By reflecting on Their compassion, we become more humble, prayerful, and steadfast.” Dale G. Renlund

My daughter, who has three other children, and has experienced a variety of birthing situations, from homebirth to hospital, was planning to have her baby at a birthing center, which was in the process of being built and halted during lockdowns. The alternate plan was a birthing center farther away. She needed help, during the birth, with her three young children. They don’t have family close by, and with everyone asked to avoid other people, gatherings, leaving their homes, etc., it was stressful to plan for the delivery. My youngest daughter and I, who’ve been healthy and careful, were on call and ready to come, quarantine or no quarantine, but we are a 9-hour drive away. I prayed about this for months, along with fasting, pleading for help for my daughter and her family, hoping we would be able to be there in time to help, we’d be well enough to safely go to them, and the timing and location would all work for the blessing of this faithful, precious family.

Though the pandemic caused fear and complications, many blessings came from the adjustments which had to be made. My daughter’s husband worked from home during the last months of the pregnancy, allowing her to be off her feet a little more, as she threatened early labor a few times. Though being confined in the house, with two active boys and a toddler, pushed the limits of patience and resources, it allowed her to slow down and get through the entire pregnancy. When she scheduled her midwife appointment, close to her due date, after having contractions off and on for weeks, we decided to come that day and stay until she delivered.

We left early in the morning, arrived by afternoon, and had great fun with the kids as she and her hubby went off to the appointment—with bags packed and hopes high that all those contractions were producing results. We received the good news that she was, indeed, in labor, making progress, and would stay the night to have the baby! I was humbled and filled with gratitude for the miracles—answers to our prayers—in this amazing timing. The children felt safe with us, slept in their own beds, and would see their new baby the following day.

Though labor took longer than we expected, much longer than her other labors, at 6:40am the next morning, I cried with joy when the text finally came, “We have a baby girl!” Those five little words brought months of worry and anticipation to an end; another child of God had joined our family! It’s almost too much sweetness to bear. 

This week I’ve had the blessing of reminiscing about the life of my dear Mother, Jackie McEwen, and the influence she’s had on me and my family. I don’t remember much when I was very little, but recently when going through old photos, I found pictures of Mom with us girls, when we were young. Mom told me many times how much she loved being pregnant and having a tiny baby. (She made it sound easy and fun.) She was excited and happy for each of her three children to join her family. I was especially touched by the pictures of her down on the floor with us.

I remember going shopping at Kmart with Mom. She loved to shop and buy clothes for her girls. That’s where I first learned about “layaway.” We had some fun dates to get our hair cut, too. Afterward, we’d go downtown and have corned beef on rye at our favorite deli, or barbeque sandwiches at Love’s.

Mom was smart and witty, with a great sense of humor. She was fun to be around. She listened to Credence Clearwater Revival, The Grass Roots, and lots of country music, including Kenny Rogers and Crystal Gayle. Once, when we were young adults, we all went to an Oak Ridge Boys’ concert. We had fun singing, “Giddy up oom poppa omm poppa mow mow.” She used to listen to the music loud in the car and push the brake pedal to the beat. She liked hosting neighborhood parties and dancing on the back patio. Our high school friends liked Mom and thought she was cool.

Mom enjoyed vacationing. She and Dad went on several cruises and always came back happy and tan. They also made it to Hawaii once. Mom’s favorite vacation has always been staying at the beach in Carpinteria. I have fond memories of many years of beach trips, with the whole family, including Grandma and Grandpa. Sometimes we stayed at the condos right on the sand; we just climbed three steps and were on the beach! It was such a fun and carefree time for us girls, and we got to spend a lot of time with Mom and Dad up there. Grandma would make chili or tacos, with root beer. We’d walk to “The Spot” for hamburgers and up the street to the drugstore for treats. Grandpa loved sitting up on the beach in the evenings and was so happy and peaceful there.

Mom continued to love the beach more than any other place on earth. She went every year until she left us. Her cousin, Pam, shared that passion with her, and they spent many vacations up there together. In the last few years, we all enjoyed time up there with her, keeping watch over her, including her sister, Jo, and her cousin, Vikki.  Mom had just been to Carpinteria a couple of months before her illness. My sister, Kris, spent a week with her, as she always loved doing, and my other sister, Heidi, was able to join her for the first time.  It was a tender blessing for them to have that special time together.

Mom was close with her own family. She spent a lot of time with her parents and brother and sister. We spent many holidays and Christmases all together, with yummy food, Grandma’s homemade treats, and presents all over the place. Auntie Jo had a pool, and there was always fun and hilarity at family gatherings.

Mom and Grandma took us girls on trips to Washington to see the great grandparents and great aunts and uncles. One time we took the train, which was really fun and exciting. I remember having a bag of things to do, like word puzzles and books. In Olympia, Washington, where they lived, we ran all around their huge wooded property and rode in a golf-cart-like vehicle. Sometimes it snowed! They had a cow, which was a novelty to us city kids. One year when we were there, Kris had a horrible allergy attack from the hay and couldn’t breathe. Another time, I was sleep walking in the middle of the night and fell down the stairs. We were both fine, but now I think, poor Mom! That must have been terrifying. The family there played cards, which Mom loved. Pinochle was her favorite, and they played for hours at a time while we were visiting. I sat and watched the grown-ups while they played.  I learned how to play, as a teenager, and sometimes they let me join in.  These last few years, Mom occasionally joined the kids and I for card games. The kids were surprised and amused at her competitive nature and sassiness during the games.  She played for fun, but wanted to win!

Mom was epically good at ping-pong. She had a unique way of holding her paddle, and she was incredibly consistent. She just got every ball back. Dad was so good at all sports, that he found it a little hard to constantly lose to Mom at ping-pong. There’s an infamous story of Mom once again beating him and hearing the paddle clatter against the door just after she walked through on her way out.

When we were kids, Mom worked a lot. She was very conscientious and took responsibilities seriously. She was talented at her job as a keypunch operator. She was lightning-fast. She and Dad ran their own business for a while. Grandma used to come and stay with us, during that time, in a room downstairs. I loved when she came. I missed my mom when she worked, but now I realize how much she did, working all day then coming home and making dinner, helping with homework and school stuff, and all the other things we needed. Mom continued to work until we were grown. She worked so hard, and worried so much, she eventually had a kind of mental breakdown and couldn’t work anymore. That’s when the second half of her life began.

It took a long time for Mom to recover from the stress she’d been under. Dad took over everything and began taking care of Mom in a different and tender way. I think it helped him that she needed him more, and he rose to the occasion. We’ve always been thankful he was so good to our mom. He adored her and would do anything for her. He called her his “sweet companion” and his “Dearie Face.”

Mom was a sports fan. She and Dad enjoyed watching all kinds of sporting events together. She never missed the Olympics. Her all-time favorite sport to watch was tennis, and Dad was a good sport about letting her have her idols, like Edberg and Federer. He even let her hang a poster of Edberg in the garage and “I heart Federer” stickers here and there.  They had a great time attending a tournament in Palm Springs a few times. After Dad died, Mom said she really missed discussing and watching the sports stuff with him.

Mom loved being “Gramma.” She totally embraced that role and it brought her so much joy. Her email was Grammaof12 and she had Gramma stuff all over her room. She adored the babies. The majority of the photos I have are pictures of Mom with the grandchildren. She read thousands of books to them, let them spend the night, attended their performances and tennis matches, wrote to them on their missions, and wanted to hear all about their lives and adventures. She and Dad were a huge part of their lives, especially when they were little.

Mom developed a passion for cross-stitching, after she retired. She had the skills and the patience to do the most intricate patterns. She made hundreds of beautiful projects and hung them all over her house. Doing that work with her hands helped her be calm and feel productive. She worked on projects up until her last month, when her brain would no longer do that anymore. About that time, I sat with her and helped her get the threads all labeled and ready, and watched as she tried to work on a new project.  She had trouble, but she didn’t get upset. She stitched and tore out one section several times.  She just kept at it. She didn’t complain or get frustrated. She told me that when she was younger, she used to get really upset if something went wrong, but she learned to just expect it and know that she could go back and fix it. Last year she did a project with a cute little grandma and grandpa.  After completing the entire piece, which was pretty big, she decided she didn’t love the color scheme, so she chose her own colors and did the entire project again.  It turned out beautifully. Near the end of her life, she moved her hands when she was kind of somewhere else in her mind. One time I asked her what she was holding (because her finger and thumb were touching) and she said, “The needle.” Immediately I could see, in her motions, that she was stitching and pulling on the thread. She was still cross-stitching in her head right up to the end. I love that.

Mom liked puzzles—all kinds. She sometimes did jigsaw puzzles and had stretches of time where she’d do tons of crossword puzzles. Later in life, she learned to do sudoku puzzles and liked the quick little challenge of those. I got her a couple of easy sudoku books when she was sick, and she could still work those until the last weeks. She would get a little frustrated that her brain wouldn’t work the way it used to, but she kept a good sense of humor about it. She’d say, “It’s taking me all day to do this puzzle!” but she kept at it. I think her love of puzzles kept her brain strong. Until the last few days, she was alert and would smile and joke with us. Until the very end, she knew us still, and heard our words of love and gratitude.

The things mom loved-she really loved!  Tennis, giraffes, Tweety bird, cross-stitch, and most of all her family. She thought about her family all the time. She was a worrier and prayed for her loves constantly. She missed her sweetheart every day.  After Dad died, Mom learned to love and appreciate him so much more. She shared, many times, that she wished she’d let the little annoyances and differences go when he was still here. The beautiful part was, she loved him better each passing year and wanted to be with him more than ever. During her last week, she wanted me to be with her all the time. When she woke, she would call for me.  Sometimes, she would call, “Jenny?…Daddy?” I knew she was calling for my Dad, who she called “Daddy” or “Grandpa.” I know he’s been close by all these years, but especially during these last hard months. I felt like Mom was torn between her love for family here and family on the other side.  On a particularly hard day she said, “I bet Grandpa’s getting excited that I’m coming soon.”

Mom and I had talks about dying and what it meant. She knew I thought leaving this life and going to Heaven was the best thing ever. She said she didn’t know if she felt the same way about it because we all talked about Dad going on and continuing his work on the other side.  She didn’t want to go to work; she was so worn out.  I shared with her the scripture in Alma 40:11-12,

“…the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body…whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life. And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow.”

She liked the sound of that. She had a firm faith in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Her grandparents taught her about Jesus when she was little, and she’d always believed in Him. She loved having pictures of Jesus around her, especially the last few weeks. She did several detailed cross stitch projects of the Savior. In the last one she completed, His hands reached out to her.  She asked us to hang that where she could see it from her bed. She loved Him and knew He loved her.

We were blessed to be able to say goodbye to Mom gradually, much in the same way we did with Dad. We were given the opportunity to serve her and show her how much she’s loved. She became very sweet and childlike during her last months. She was extra loving and grateful, telling us all how much she loved us. It was a sweet and tender blessing to see this side of her heart and feel that connection and closeness before she left us. Though there’s a giant hole in our lives where our Mom was, we’re thankful her pain and worldly cares are over. We’re joyful that Mom and Dad are no longer apart and can be together forever.

Because of our Savior, Jesus Christ, we can live again with our families, when this life is over. It’s not the end. I know this is true—I’ve felt my sweet parents comforting me and lending me strength. Their love still lives on. We celebrated the gift of Christ’s atonement, resurrection, and eternal life as we saw mom’s body, but not her spirit, placed in the ground with Dad’s, to come forth again in the resurrection. Families can be together forever.

“For ye have need of patience, that, after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise.” Hebrews 10:36

This week, like many other weeks, the Lord is teaching me about patience.  In my quest to become more like my Savior, patience is an attribute that feels so hard to master. As I’ve pondered and read about the birth of the Savior and the events in the Holy Land, and in the Promised Land, I’ve seen evidence of the patience required of believers.

“Patience means accepting that which cannot be changed and facing it with courage, grace, and faith…Ultimately, patience means being “firm and steadfast, and immovable in keeping the commandments of the Lord” every hour of every day, even when it is hard to do so.” Dieter F. Uchtdorf

The Bible tells of those in the Holy Land who believed the scriptures and the prophets and looked forward hopefully to the coming of the Christ. They believed He would save them, free them, redeem them. They kept the commandments and the Law of Moses, watching, believing, continuing in patience, year after year, to perform all the rituals that symbolized his atoning sacrifice.

When the time finally arrived, Mary, the mother of Jesus, most likely didn’t understand fully her sacred mission—what it all meant—and what it would look like for her. She walked with patience, by faith, one day at a time, trusting she would know what to do and be given the grace to accomplish all that was required of her.  

In The Book of Mormon, Another Testament of Christ we read of the believers, far away in the Promised Land, who remembered the words of Samuel the Lamanite, and clung to their faith, patiently hoping the sign would appear—a night without darkness—which would signify the birth of the Savior, in Bethlehem.  They were facing eminent death if their faith and belief turned out to be in vain. Their patience and trust, during that time of persecution and fear, was rewarded as the promised sign was finally given. I can imagine their rejoicing, knowing the baby was born, a Savior to redeem the world.

I, too, wait for my Savior, in a world of persecution and fear. I know He lives and will come again. I know He has overcome death and taken away its sting. I know He will walk beside me, in my uncertainty, when I don’t know what to do and am afraid of what I will be asked to endure.

“Patience is not passive resignation, nor is it failing to act because of our fears. Patience means active waiting and enduring. It means staying with something and doing all that we can—working, hoping, and exercising faith; bearing hardship with fortitude, even when the desires of our hearts are delayed. Patience is not simply enduring; it is enduring well!” Dieter F. Uchtdorf

I struggle to be patient.  I want to know what’s next, what’s going to happen, what I will be called on to do.  But this life isn’t about knowing everything at once; it’s about faith and hope. If I trust in God—and I do—then I trust in His timing, His goodness, His plan for me. I have the blessed gift of the Holy Ghost as my companion, and know I’ll be given what I need, moment by moment.  I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I will keep trying to patiently walk by faith, gratefully trusting I’m not alone.

“Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God.” Ether 12:3-4

When life doesn’t go anything like I expected (99.9% of the time), it helps me to remember the experiences of Nephi and his family in The Book of Mormon, Another Testament of Christ. In 1 Nephi, chapters 3 and 4, the Lord asks Nephi and his brothers to go back a great distance to Jerusalem to obtain a sacred record on plates of brass from King Laban, a wicked man. Nephi gives his inspiring pledge, “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.” On their first attempt, however, the king threatens to kill  the eldest brother. They are “exceedingly sorrowful” and some are ready to give up. It’s understandable; they had tried, failed, and the danger is real.  But Nephi, determined to do as the Lord asked, faithfully entreats the others to keep trying.

“Success is usually earned by persevering and not becoming discouraged when we encounter challenges… Perseverance is demonstrated by those who keep going when the going gets tough, who don’t give up even when others say, ‘It can’t be done.’” James E. Faust

This time they take treasures, but barely escape when the king steals their gold and orders the guards to kill them all.  Another failure. No wonder they’re discouraged and the older brothers are angry. Here they are trying to do what the Lord commanded them, and twice they’re met with seemingly insurmountable obstacles. They’re understandably afraid to face the king and his guards again, after all, Laban is a “mighty man, and he can command fifty, yea, even he can slay fifty; then why not us?” I wish I remembered more often that the Lord is “mightier than all the earth…mightier than Laban and his fifty…or even than his tens of thousands.” I’m afraid way too often, however, like Nephi, I want so much to do the Lords’ will.  I try. I give my all, only to fail. It feels like the Lord has forgotten me when this happens. It’s heart-wrenching to feel that way, but He never forgets us, we are the ones who forget that He has a plan and His ways aren’t our ways.  We sometimes feel a little beat up, like Sam and Nephi, in the cave, after the second failure.

“For I will go before your face,” the Lord declared. “I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.” Doctrine and Covenants 84:88

Do we have the courage to keep trying when the failures pile up?  Can we follow Nephi’s example and believe “God is mightier” than any of our obstacles, and that with Him we can succeed? Nephi does finally succeed—when he is “led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand…” Not knowing. That’s a tough one for me.  I like to be obedient, but I want it laid out clearly.  I want to know beforehand! I struggle to leave behind my own meager wisdom and let my omniscient Father lead me, through the Holy Ghost. A leap of faith for sure. Could Nephi have ever conceived a plan to kill Laban—a horrific thought to him—without the other two failures turning him completely to the guidance of the Spirit? Sometimes our humbling experiences of defeat prepare our hearts to receive answers we otherwise couldn’t have imagined.

At the end of this story, they accomplish the commandment, retrieve the record, to preserve the language and faith of an entire people, and return to their parents. Amazing. Did they have peace from then on? That was a harrowing experience, along with leaving home and everything they ever knew! Alas, no. They went on to have many more challenges, each seemingly more intense than previous ones. Life is like that; we don’t grow with ease.

In my life, I see in hindsight some things I never would have believed I could do, until after the failures and challenges I’d already faced. Most of the time, it seems, is spent in the failure/try again part. In the “exceedingly sorrowful” period, it’s not easy to see or remember the ultimate success awaiting each steadfast follower of Christ. The only way I keep trying is by remembering the times I’ve been “led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand,” and completed difficult tasks successfully.  

Reading the account of Nephi takes only a few moments; so much happens in those short minutes of reading. All the painful, discouraging stuff occurs, then the successful conclusion appears to follow immediately.  But life takes a lot longer than reading a story.  We’re still in the middle of it. Our challenges sometimes drag on for years. Maybe that’s why we’re told so many times to remember. We can look back and see what our loving Savior has already done for us, how our faith and perseverance have paid off in the past. We can believe that one day, this will be the past—our story—and our posterity can read our words, in just a few minutes, and see we had courage, we kept going, we were led by the Spirit and accomplished the commandments we received from the Lord.  

 “I respect those who quietly do their duty though deepening trials come their way. And I admire those who strive to be more worthy by overcoming a personal fault or who work to achieve a difficult goal.

“…You who may be momentarily disheartened, remember, life is not meant to be easy. Trials must be borne and grief endured along the way. As you remember that ‘with God nothing shall be impossible,’ know that He is your Father. You are a son or daughter created in His image, entitled through your worthiness to receive revelation to help with your righteous endeavors.”  Russell M Nelson

“…Our time in the temple is crucial to our salvation and exaltation and to that of our families. 

“…Each one of us needs the ongoing spiritual strengthening and tutoring that is possible only in the house of the Lord.” Russell M. Nelson

From the beginning, men and women built temples to worship God.  “Temples are literally houses of the Lord. They are holy places of worship where the Lord may visit” (True to the Faith). While Jesus was on the earth, He came to the temple often and made it clear it was a sacred and holy place, which must be pure and clean. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is the restored church of Jesus Christ, and temples are an integral part of our worship, as well. Within the temple, we receive ordinances and make covenants with God, which allow us to be with our families, both earthly and Heavenly, throughout eternity, through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. After we receive ordinances for ourselves, we then do work, by proxy, for those who have died without the opportunity to have the blessings of the gospel of Jesus Christ, offering them the choice to receive, if they desire.

“Consider the great mercy and fairness of God, who, before the foundation of the world, provided a way to give temple blessings to those who died without a knowledge of the gospel.” Russell M. Nelson

I grew up in Southern California, and the first temple I entered was the Los Angeles Temple.  As a youth, I did baptisms, and later I was married and sealed in that beautiful, sacred place. As a young bride, going through the temple, receiving ordinances and making new covenants, I was a little nervous. There was so much to take in, to hear and see and feel. Though I couldn’t possibly grasp most of what was presented that first time, I knew I was where I was supposed to be because of the powerful feeling of the Spirit throughout my time in the temple.  Pure love, safety, and joy enveloped me, and each tear was a drop of thanks for this precious blessing.

I wanted to return often, to remember what I’d heard and seen and let it become a part of me.  During the first years of my marriage, I drove from Camarillo to LA every week to attend the temple. It was all new and inspiring to me. I wanted to learn everything the Lord wanted to teach me, and I treasured that time each week: the drive, time to ponder, the peace and quiet and joy I felt there. I developed a love for, and testimony of, the temple.

“We all know there is no more peaceful place on this earth than in the temples of God. If you don’t have a temple recommend, qualify to get one. When you have a recommend, use it often. Schedule a regular time to be in the temple. Don’t let anyone or anything prevent you from being there.

“While you are in the temple, listen to the words of the ordinances, ponder them, pray about them, and seek to understand their meaning. The temple is one of the best places to come to understand the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Seek Him there.”

Richard G Scott

In the temple, more than anywhere else, I feel the truth that our Heavenly Father and His son, Jesus Christ, love us and want to bless us in every possible way, if only we will receive. Loving, merciful words are spoken and given to us as a gift from Them to get us through the challenges of this life. We are offered forgiveness, protection, and grace. Everywhere in the temple, there is love.

“The temple is also a place of refuge, thanksgiving, instruction, and understanding, ‘that [we] may be perfected … in all things pertaining to the kingdom of God on the earth.’ Throughout my life it has been a place of tranquility and peace in a world that is literally in commotion. It is wonderful to leave the cares of the world behind in that sacred setting.” Quintin L Cook

As a mother of young children, I couldn’t get to the temple as often as I wanted.  Though life was often overwhelming, I still made it a priority to be there when I could, influenced by the promises of the Lord, through our church leaders, that our family would be blessed by my attendance. I was always personally instantly blessed by my time in the temple, away from the cares and worry I constantly carried. I began imagining, as I approached the temple doors, removing my burdens from my shoulders and placing them right outside the doors.  I knew I would have to pick them back up again when I came out, but while inside, I felt free from those burdens for a little while.

“Sometimes you may feel that you cannot think clearly because your mind is so burdened with problems and the many things clamoring for attention.  In the temple, the dust of these distractions can settle, the fog and haze can lift, and you can understand things that you have not understood before.  You can find new ways to deal with the challenges you face.” True to the Faith

When my husband left the church, I was devastated and confused. I could not understand. I sought peace and light amid the terrible fear and darkness. During a Women’s conference I attended, the Lord led me to the scripture written for Emma, “Wherefore, lift up thy heart and rejoice, and cleave unto the covenants which thou hast made.”  That answer became my lifeline and saving grace. My covenants. The temple.  Always there is a place where I am safe, cherished, grounded. A place where I feel whole. A place where the hugeness of the moment gives way to the scale and perspective of eternity. A place where I’m reminded that my experiences and mistakes are for my learning and there is forgiveness through my Savior. I love the temple.

“My dear brothers and sisters, the assaults of the adversary are increasing exponentially, in intensity and in variety. Our need to be in the temple on a regular basis has never been greater…

“I promise you that the Lord will bring the miracles He knows you need as you make sacrifices to serve and worship in His temples.” Russel M. Nelson

It’s been five weeks since I became an ordinance worker in the temple. When I’m there all day, each minute that passes, the world outside becomes smaller and less important, and my joy increases. I smile and feel like I’m spending the day in Heaven. Once again, my Savior has provided a tender mercy to get me through the rest of my week, the rest of my life. I know He’s near. I know the temple is His House and His Spirit is there, because I feel Him. I also see Him, as I recognize, more and more, His hand in all the details of my life.

“And inasmuch as my people build a house unto me in the name of the Lord, and do not suffer any unclean thing to come into it, that it be not defiled, my glory shall rest upon it; 

“Yea, and my presence shall be there, for I will come into it, and all the pure in heart that shall come into it shall see God.” Doctrine and Covenants 97:15-16