“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.”

Jesus Christ is the light, the life, and the hope of the world.

“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 12:4

Everyone knows that no matter how warm and fuzzy thoughts of the holidays may be, they are also commonly a source of intense stress and grief for many. After the loss of a loved one, or family or health situation, holidays may appear like a mountain too high to climb. Broken hearts might find comfort in sharing the special moments, or they might feel their pain magnified by what’s missing. Thanksgiving and Christmas family gatherings might be fun and loving, bringing joy and comfort, or they could be discordant and unpleasant.  When grown children get together, they sometimes forget they’re grown.  Their independent, mature, charming, polite public demeaner fades into reflexive reactions to family members with whom they’ve grown up, and old triggers, and immature feelings and actions, surprise even themselves. Dads are often stressed by the financial and emotional burdens of gatherings and gifts or hiding from the crazy woman who took over his wife’s body. Then there’s Mom…we all know what happens to poor Mom. Trying to be the perfect peacemaker, charitable giver, teacher of gratitude and the true meaning of Christmas, caterer, cleaning crew, bargain hunter and shopping expert, elf, and Santa himself, Mom completely forgets to take care of herself and ends up physically and emotionally decimated. Every year I tried to avoid being that mother, and every year I failed. I don’t think I ever learned the secret to turning off the voices in my head that chanted, make everyone happy, make it spiritual and fun, make it perfect.

“If life and its rushed pace and many stresses have made it difficult for you to feel like rejoicing, then perhaps now is a good time to refocus on what matters most.

“Strength comes not from frantic activity but from being settled on a firm foundation of truth and light. It comes from placing our attention and efforts on the basics of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. It comes from paying attention to the divine things that matter most.” Dieter F. Uchtdorf

At Christmastime, as I earnestly tried to make learning about Jesus, and serving others, our main focus, we’ve enjoyed some special moments as a family. One year, on Christmas morning we took our big family to a care center and had the sweet experience of passing out gifts to the delighted residents. We’ve purchased baby items and sewn receiving blankets (each child sewed his own), to make dozens of newborn gift bags to donate to the children’s hospital. We’ve made “hobo bags” (as my children called them) and kept them in the car to hand out to homeless people as we drove around town. We’ve performed music for neighbors in our home or for the homebound, participated in “secret pixies” with ward members, and invited neighbors to church to hear the Christmas program. One year we even moved the gift-giving part of Christmas to August and had a big summer bash. It was a wonderful event, with sand-bucket stockings, a BBQ swim party, and a trip to the beach, but the kids felt something was missing when Christmas came around without the gift-giving. Last year, with my youngest daughter, I gave a little Christmas advent gift each day with a service challenge attached.

“And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins.” 2 Nephi 25:26

As I’ve grown older, my children have grown up, and I’ve suffered loss as my family situation has changed dramatically several times, I’ve struggled to find the sweetness and joy which can be found in holidays. I often feel unequal to the emotional and physical demands of creating holiday magic for loved ones, especially as a single mom. This has made my heart ache.

“May I suggest that you reduce the rush and take a little extra time to get to know yourself better. Walk in nature, watch a sunrise, enjoy God’s creations, ponder the truths of the restored gospel, and find out what they mean for you personally. Learn to see yourself as Heavenly Father sees you—as His precious daughter or son with divine potential.

“…God sees you not only as a mortal being on a small planet who lives for a brief season—He sees you as His child. He sees you as the being you are capable and designed to become. He wants you to know that you matter to Him.” Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Acknowledging and accepting my limitations is an ongoing, usually painful, learning process for me. This year, for the first time, I told my family that although I would be having Christmas Eve dinner here, I wasn’t hosting the Thanksgiving gathering. As I battled with myself over this for many months, I have been, alternately, both anguished and relieved. Though I occasionally still hear those impossible voices in my head saying, “make everyone happy,” as I talked it out with family and friends, one of them said a phrase that really helped me. She said, “For the time being…you’re not able to do what you’ve been used to.” Those words, “for the time being,” helped me come to terms with the situation right now, realizing that it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s forever.  Circumstances may change. There is always hope, because of the Savior, whose birth we are celebrating on Christmas. For the time being, I can’t do some of the things I wish I could, and I’m still okay and so is my family.  I’m still a loving mother, daughter, sister, and friend. Taking care of myself this way is new and frightening, but it’s also enlightening. I feel more surely that God loves me. I know I matter to Him. I know He wants me to take care of myself, along with those I love, as I strive to be His disciple and focus on what matters most.

“…Please understand that what you see and experience now is not what forever will be. You will not feel loneliness, sorrow, pain, or discouragement forever. We have the faithful promise of God that He will neither forget nor forsake those who incline their hearts to Him. Have hope and faith in that promise. Learn to love your Heavenly Father and become His disciple in word and in deed.” Dieter F. Uchtdorf

“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

“My dear sisters, your Heavenly Father loves you—each of you. That love never changes…It is there for you when you are sad or happy, discouraged or hopeful. God’s love is there for you whether or not you feel you deserve love. It is simply always there.” Thomas S. Monson

It’s been a rough week.  Several weeks, actually. I’m struggling to find some light to share, but even as I take the step to open my computer and read the words of apostles and prophets and type some thoughts, I feel the Savior’s love and encouragement.

I’ve previously shared some things that help me press on here.  Today I just want to feel hope and comfort and in some small way share it with anyone else who may be hurting. Life can feel so isolated and lonely at times, but we are not alone. It can feel scary and dark, but the Light of the World is nearby, and He understands.

“The Book of Mormon teaches that ‘He shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.’

“He knows of our anguish, and He is there for us. Like the good Samaritan in His parable, when He finds us wounded at the wayside, He binds up our wounds and cares for us.” Dallin H. Oaks

For 30 years, I’ve suffered with varying levels of depression and anxiety.  I was blindsided by these feelings during my first pregnancy. My mom said to me one day, “You’ve wanted a baby more than anything, why aren’t you happy?”  I replied that I didn’t know and then cried my head off.  After my baby was born, amid the joy at having this sweet angel in my life, I was also flooded with anxiety. The responsibility overwhelmed and terrified me.

In the many years, and many ups and downs, since then, I’ve studied about mental health conditions, gone to counseling, worked on changing eating and health habits and practicing self-care, received Priesthood blessings, and clung to my testimony and the Word of God, seeking relief.  For me, medication didn’t feel like the answer, although I know it makes a huge difference for some. I believe the answers are varied for each person and each ailment.

“When the Apostle Paul sought to be healed from the ‘thorn in the flesh’ that buffeted him, the Lord declined to heal him. Paul later wrote that the Lord explained, ‘My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.’ Paul obediently responded that he would ‘rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me … for when I am weak, then am I strong.’

“Healing blessings come in many ways, each suited to our individual needs, as known to Him who loves us best. Sometimes a ‘healing’ cures our illness or lifts our burden. But sometimes we are ‘healed’ by being given strength or understanding or patience to bear the burdens placed upon us.” Dallin H Oaks

My depression has gone through cycles, always intensified by pregnancy and stress.  After the birth of one of my children, I couldn’t emotionally feel anything but sorrow and fear. I wondered if I ever would again.  It’s incredibly hard on family members, as well, which adds to the feelings of sadness and despair. Often, they don’t understand, get upset, and want to get away from the “little black raincloud” in their home. Once I was told, “You’re not very fun to be around.” Yes, I knew that.  Even I didn’t want to be around me. It was hard to believe anyone could love me. 

“Though we are incomplete, God loves us completely. Though we are imperfect, He loves us perfectly. Though we may feel lost and without compass, God’s love encompasses us completely. 

“He loves us because He is filled with an infinite measure of holy, pure, and indescribable love. We are important to God not because of our résumé but because we are His children. He loves every one of us, even those who are flawed, rejected, awkward, sorrowful, or broken. God’s love is so great that He loves even the proud, the selfish, the arrogant, and the wicked.

“What this means is that, regardless of our current state, there is hope for us. No matter our distress, no matter our sorrow, no matter our mistakes, our infinitely compassionate Heavenly Father desires that we draw near to Him so that He can draw near to us.”

Dieter F. Uctdorf

Remembering that Heavenly Father loves me, that Jesus loves me enough to suffer all this along with me, I hold on, keep breathing, and stay close to the Lord, hoping, always hoping, it will get better.  Maybe not great, but better. Bearable. Thankfully, during the worst times, I had a sweet, soft, snuggly baby to hold, which brought me great comfort. Knowing my other little children needed me to give all I could, helped me force myself to do what had to be done.  I was blessed that way.  I understand some cannot, and my own experiences bless me with so much compassion for them.

“No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. … All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable. … It is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we come here to acquire.” Orson F. Whitney

After that especially difficult time, I was better able to understand opposition. Without the darkness, the light of joy I felt unexpectedly one day, wouldn’t be as bright.  The difference was dramatic. I was in awe, clinging to those precious moments of joy, knowing they were a gift from a loving Father in Heaven. Until those moments come, it’s hard to be patient, to remember what it feels like, to believe it will get better, but we can, because of our Savior.   

“Dozens of times in the scriptures, the Lord commands someone to ‘stand still’ or ‘be still’—and wait. Patiently enduring some things is part of our mortal education.

“Trust in God. Hold on in His love. Know that one day the dawn will break brightly and all shadows of mortality will flee. Though we may feel we are ‘like a broken vessel,’ as the Psalmist says, we must remember, that vessel is in the hands of the divine potter. Broken minds can be healed just the way broken bones and broken hearts are healed. While God is at work making those repairs, the rest of us can help by being merciful, nonjudgmental, and kind.” Jeffrey R. Holland

I’ve been blessed by hearing and reading the stories of pain and hope shared by others who bravely carry on in their struggle.  The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints offers support and resources here for the increasing number of people struggling with mental health challenges.

 “Also let us remember that through any illness or difficult challenge, there is still much in life to be hopeful about and grateful for. We are infinitely more than our limitations or our afflictions!” Jeffrey R. Holland

Today I’m thinking about my Dad and hoping to somehow honor him with a few words from my heart. It’s been five years since he returned to his Heavenly home.  As I began to write about my love for him and how he’s influenced me, I read my own tribute to him, which I shared at his memorial service. It covered a big part of what I wanted to convey, so I share some of it again here.

Dad was easy to love.  He was gentle and kind and friendly.  He had a great outlook on life.  He was a happy man, who brought happiness to others. 

Dad was a doer. He liked being busy, useful, and active. He jogged, biked, played golf, bowled, did anything outdoors, including tons of yard work.  He loved to work on his yard—it was his project for many years.  Recently he switched his project to a longtime dream of his: restoring a car. The grandkids enjoyed sharing those plans with him, and his friends helped him with the details.

Dad had 12 grandchildren and loved to see their successes and talents.  He attended many recitals, orchestra concerts, and sporting events to cheer them on. Even in his 60’s he could outplay them in most sports! Every single one of them felt his testimony and influence.  He was like a father to his oldest granddaughter, and he filled that role with love and gentleness. Dad only had daughters, so he had a lot of fun with his grandsons. He taught them how to work!  He showed them how to treat women by his sweet, old-fashioned chivalry to my mom, my grandmothers, and his girls. He has been a hero to us in taking care of his “Sweet Companion” and “Dearie Face,” as he called her.  His devotion to her was a testament to his beautiful character.  He adored her.

He shared his love for family freely.  He didn’t have trouble saying, “I love you,” but even more, every day of his life, he showed his love by his actions.   We knew he loved us and was there for us.  Every one of us called on him many times, knowing he was happy to help, to serve, to do anything we needed.  And he always did it with a smile. Because of his unconditional love, acceptance, and kind, gentle ways, we are better able to understand a loving Heavenly Father, who is always there when we need Him and will love us no matter what.     

Dad was an example of loyalty to family, covenants, and God. He loved his calling in the church, working with the Bishopric. Right after he had his first stroke, while he was in the hospital, he told me the tithing reports were all ready to go.  He gave Mom directions about them and asked the Bishop about it when he visited Dad in the hospital.   His duty was important to him, and his valiant service was an inspiration to all of us.   He led our family as an honorable Priesthood holder.  He ordained grandsons, gave school blessings, was an escort for a grandson at the temple, and has been a wonderful example of how the Priesthood is used to bless and strengthen families.

We are thankful for the tender mercy of having a month, after Dad’s first stroke, to serve him.  It was hard for him to be served, but it gave us such joy to have the blessing of caring for him in this small way, to give back a tiny portion of all that he’s done for us. 

Dad was a humble man.  He didn’t know of his greatness.  He didn’t realize his influence, strength, and success.  He wasn’t a man of wealth, but he was rich in character and virtue.  He wasn’t a scholar, but he taught us from the scriptures and led us with his wisdom.  He knew we loved him, but he didn’t know he was our hero.

At that time, the grandkids each wrote a few thoughts honoring him, entitled, “Do You Know How Much You’re Loved?”  The common threads they shared were their admiration of his dedication and service to his wife, daughters, and others, his hard work and cheerfulness, his strength in the gospel of Jesus Christ, and the time he spent with each of them. They absolutely knew he loved them and wanted him to know how much they loved him in return.

One of our last, and most precious, happy memories of Dad was just before his birthday, less than two months before he unexpectedly had a stroke and died a few weeks later.  My sisters and I had come to celebrate with Mom and Dad, and we all went out to a nice lunch.  Dad was especially happy for the rare chance to have us all together.  Smiling, he looked at each of us and said,

 “While we are all here together, I want you girls to know that I am happy. I am truly happy. I have everything I need and more: a sweet companion, you girls, a nice home, work, great friends, and enough income for our needs. I like what I do, where I am, and who I am. I wake up every day happy.”

That’s how I remember my dad.  Happy.  Contented.  Grateful.  I think about him every day and miss him more each year. He was the man we could always rely on.  Constant and safe.  He had a certain look he gave us girls, when he smiled and called us darlin’. In my mind, I can still see that smile, his eyes looking adoringly at me.  I think of it often when I need to remember I’m special and I’m loved.    

You didn’t know your smile made me feel adored.

You didn’t see the way your solid, dependable presence helped me feel safe.

You didn’t think you made a difference in my life and the lives of all those who knew you.

You didn’t realize you were an example of Christlike love and service to us all.

You didn’t understand that you’re my hero.

I’ve learned, since Dad left us, how precious our time is with those we love. I had no idea how much I’d miss him or how close he would feel sometimes. I’m thankful for my testimony of Christ’s atonement and His victory over death. I know, through faithfully honoring temple covenants, families can be together forever.

Like the Savior, Dad went about doing good.  He wasn’t perfect, but he was a saint. When I look at the quiet life of service he led, it fills me with love for him and hope for myself, that I, too, can steadily press forward and finish the work I’ve been sent here to do.