“He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces.” Isaiah 25:8

Early Saturday morning, February 8, 2020, I sat by my Mom’s side, holding her hand, speaking softly of eternity, and singing “Families Can be Together Forever,” as she moved from this earthly life of care to a far sweeter one with Jesus. Many times, in the last few weeks, we talked of my dad, waiting for his “Sweetie Face” on the other side. We discussed Mom’s parents, and other family members, and how happy they’d be to see her. We considered together the blessing of resting from her cares, worries, and responsibilities, which she took seriously. We spent time with my sweet sisters, and laughed and reminisced about the precious gift of family, and the cherished memories we hold on to forever. We gazed at the painting of Jesus by the shore, hung on the wall directly in front of her bed, and anticipated His loving embrace.

As my sisters and I made this sweet and sorrowful journey with our dear mother, I felt the Spirit teaching and strengthening me. I had so much to learn. I struggled, every day, nearly every minute, to give up the illusion of control, and give it all to the Lord. Because I was taking care of Mom at our home, and hospice nurses and aides only came a couple of times a week, I was responsible for most of Mom’s care. Her disease progressed so rapidly, we had a day or two of feeling we’d gotten the pain under control and were stable, then there’d be a dramatic change for the worse, that threw us into chaos and fear. I fiercely tried to control what was happening, to help her and ease her pain. I tried to find the right meds, the right position, the right equipment, and the right help to keep her from further suffering.

My will was for my elderly, fragile, dear mother not to suffer. My human thinking was that pain is “bad” and “senseless” and “unkind.” My limited understanding caused my constant pleading that she would be spared, protected, released. When those agonizing prayers weren’t immediately answered, I sometimes questioned if I was important to God, after all. I forgot, in the darkest moments, that giving up my will, and turning everything over to the One who loves me most and uses everything for my good, is the way to find peace. I talked to God all day, every day. He was the One I knew understood. And still I hurt. I questioned. I wanted God’s love to be manifested in MY will. Instead, His wisdom, His generosity, His mercy, were made manifest through my broken acceptance of HIS will.

Satan never gives up, never sleeps. He’s in those battles. He worked on me sleepless night after sleepless night. He knew I’d be weaker, more vulnerable to his unrelenting attacks, but I wasn’t defenseless. Besides my constant prayers, each day I was committed to studying the Book of Mormon. I’d torn out the page, in the front of the Come Follow Me manual, with the promises of prophets, about reading the Book of Mormon daily, and stuck it on my bookcase. I clung to those promises, and the many blessings and witnesses I’d received, throughout my life, of the love and kindness of my Savior. I fought back, armed with His word and my testimony, until I could hand over my will, fully, thankfully, to the One who already bore all the suffering my mom and I were enduring.

Because of our Savior, Jesus Christ, I have peace and joy, along with the grief of temporary parting. His atonement and resurrection make it possible for families to be sealed together for eternity. I’ve had the sacred gift of being by the side of both my parents as they made the transition from this life to the next. I’ve felt the sweetness of death, as another birth, with similar pain, suffering, and hard work, followed by inexpressible joy and gratitude. I’ve felt the Spirit witness of life before, and life after, this one. I know I’ll see my mom and dad again, when it’s time, and they will be close by until then. I know my Redeemer lives and loves me. He never abandoned me, but stayed by my side, by Mom’s side, teaching, strengthening, and carrying it with us.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Psalm 23

“And this is life eternal, that they may know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou has sent.” John 17:3

I’ve been blessed two times in my life with the opportunity to return a tiny bit of the care and service a parent gave to me. Six years ago, my dad had a stroke, very unexpectedly, and my two sisters and I spent his remaining few weeks, physically and emotionally taking care of him and reminding him it wasn’t a burden, but a gift, to serve him. I’ll forever be thankful for that special, though painful, time and the lessons I learned about love. Now, quite unexpectedly again, we’ve been granted the opportunity to tend our mother in her final days on earth. We’re blessed with time to share the precious and spiritual moments that come when Heaven draws close.

Both Mom and Dad were concerned for us, that we had to take on the difficult task of caring for someone no longer able care for themselves. Those who once provided for us, and diligently attended our every need, felt sorrow at asking us to do the same for them, in their need. As children becoming adults, we learn to be independent, which is a good thing, but we usually aren’t taught how to gracefully accept that the circle of life generally leads to the independent once again becoming weak and dependent. It requires humility and perspective of the plan—the sweet plan of our Father in Heaven—which allows us the opportunity to return, in a small way, the years of sacrifice and service of a loving parent.

“Even after years of teaching and hearing lessons on serving others and accepting service, we found that to actually let someone help us was difficult to do. But, as we allowed them to help us, we soon found our hearts full of thanks for their thoughtfulness.

“…Is it hard to give? Yes. It’s a sacrifice on someone’s part. Is it difficult to receive? Yes. But we love those who serve us and those we may serve.” JoAnn Randall

One day, in caring for my mom, I was bending over the bed, rubbing cream on her feet. For some reason, when she became very distressed, her feet began to itch unbearably, adding to her discomfort. After a particularly difficult evening, after she was settled and feeling better, I got out the cream to try to alleviate further irritation of her feet.  As I gently massaged the cream into her cold, dry feet, gently rubbing each small toe, I distinctly felt the Savior whisper to my aching heart, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these…ye have done it unto me.” As the tears flowed, I suddenly realized that although I received joy from serving my sweet mother, the thought that I was also serving my Jesus filled me with eternal gratitude. That He accepted my small acts of love to my mother as acts of love to Him, blessed me with a peace and joy I can’t express.

There are times in life when every day, every moment, is so intense, it feels like it will never get better, never pass. Of course, It always eventually does. Every woman who’s ever had a baby knows that feeling, near the end, that “This baby is never going to come and I’m going to be pregnant and miserable the rest of my life.” But eventually the time always arrives. During those times, we often think of the trial, or the difficult part, as something that keeps us from our lives: a distraction, a hurdle, a period where time seems to stand still and our “normal” life is put on hold. Recently a wise and cherished friend texted me, “This is life. You are living it! One breath at a time. One moment at a time you are getting it done.” She then expressed her love for me, her support. I’ve thought of those words every day. This time of caring for my dying mother is not something that’s keeping me from my life.  This is my life, and I’m living it, and learning, and loving, and, because of these, often excruciating, experiences, I’m drawing closer to my beloved Savior.

“The Lord has said, ‘If thou lovest me thou shalt serve me,’ and we serve Him by serving others.

“As we serve, we draw closer to God. We come to know Him in ways that we otherwise might not. Our faith in Him increases. Our problems are put into perspective. Life becomes more satisfying. Our love for others increases, as well as our desire to serve. Through this blessed process, we become more like God, and we are better prepared to return to Him.” Carl B. Cook

“Before we were born, we lived in a family with our exalted and eternal Heavenly Father. He ordained a plan that enables us to advance and progress to become like Him. He did it out of love for us. The purpose of the plan was to allow us the privilege of living forever as our Heavenly Father lives. This gospel plan offered us a life of mortality in which we would be tested. A promise was given that through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, if we obeyed the laws and priesthood ordinances of the gospel, we would have eternal life, the greatest of all His gifts.” Henry B. Eyring

Lately I’ve spent a good deal of time thinking about our Heavenly Home. I’m certain we have one. We lived there before we came to earth, to get a body and gain experience, learn and be tested; and we’ll live there again after this life is over. When circumstances in my life are pushing me to my limits, I’m comforted by the promises in the scriptures about home—safe, loving home with Heavenly Parents and my brother, Jesus Christ.

“…Behold, it has been made known unto me by an angel, that the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body…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.” Alma 40:11-12

I’ve had sweet experiences in my life which strengthen my testimony of a life after this one, in Heavenly Father’s plan for His children. I’ve felt comfort, help, and messages of love from family members who have left this earth life. In the temple, I’ve felt my Grandpa’s acceptance of baptismal covenants and other ancestors’ gratitude for marriage sealings and other ordinances, performed by proxy. During special, sacred family moments, I’ve felt the presence of family members no longer with us. All my experiences with eternal family ties help me see death as a temporary, though heart wrenching, goodbye.

“When families are functioning as designed by God, the relationships found therein are the most valued of mortality. The plan of the Father is that family love and companionship will continue into the eternities. Being one in a family carries a great responsibility of caring, loving, lifting, and strengthening each member of the family so that all can righteously endure to the end in mortality and dwell together throughout eternity.” Robert D. Hales

On Christmas Day we lost my mom’s cousin, Pam, a dear friend, to cancer. She was Mom’s beach buddy and a funny, brave, optimistic example of living life to its fullest. We were sad to say goodbye, even temporarily.  It’s also my Dad’s and my Grandpa’s birthdays this week. I miss both of these loving gentlemen. Dad’s been gone almost 6 years, and I think of him all the time, especially since Mom is struggling with her health. I know he sees; he helps; he still loves us.

Mom has had back pain on and off for many years. She has arthritis and doesn’t get around much, and her back pain has been worsening with age. In the last couple of months, the pain increased, almost daily, until it was hard for her to move much at all. Our hearts hurt to see her suffering, as we all struggled to get her help and find answers. She had tests done, which showed some fine fractures and multiple small lesions in her back. One morning, while I was at the temple, and my sister was with Mom, she developed serious pain in her side. It was so intense, my sister had to call 911, and Mom went to the ER.  I was given a message at the temple and met them at the hospital, along with my other sister. The three of us sat together, impatiently waiting to be allowed to go in with Mom. It was a sad and frightening reminder of our journey with Dad, several years ago. The myriad of unknowns. The watching a loved one suffer. The deepening certainty that life was changing drastically for us all.  It was also a reminder of the strength and love of our family bond. The comfort that we weren’t alone in this. The knowledge that we were a team—a good team—and would do whatever had to be done, together.

After more scans, they found more lesions, including a large one on her liver. Her side pain eased, and with help to control pain, we were able to get her home, where she desperately wanted to be. The next step was a PET scan, to determine if the lesions were cancerous, as suspected, but because of her pain, and anxiety of enclosed spaces, the experience was frightening and miserable for all of us. We quickly, shockingly became aware that this was just the beginning of our fearful and difficult journey as we learned that Mom has stage IV cancer, in her colon, her liver, and her bones.

This is all new and sudden. We still have so many unanswered questions, most of which will remain unanswered. She’ll have a biopsy to determine the type of cancer, and we’ll learn a little more of what we’re facing, but largely, this is a walk through darkness, with only the light of our faith and hope to guide us.

“The fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ brings great comfort in stressing times of mortality. It brings light where there is darkness and a calming influence where there is turmoil. It gives eternal hope where there is mortal despair.” Robert D. Hales

In the days since the ER, our thoughts have turned to what matters most, with an eternal perspective that gives us such comfort and strength. I’m humbled and overwhelmed with love and gratitude as I feel the enormity of the gifts of our Savior, Jesus Christ—His atonement and resurrection—more deeply and personally. Because of Him, all goodbyes are temporary. He lives. He loves us. He will be our light.

“The knowledge and understanding of the doctrine that God lives and Jesus is the Christ and that we have an opportunity to be resurrected and live in the presence of God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, makes it possible to endure otherwise tragic events. This doctrine brings a brightness of hope into an otherwise dark and dreary world. It answers the simple questions of where we came from, why we are here, and where we are going.” Robert D. Hales

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

“Forgiveness is the very reason God sent His Son, so let us rejoice in His offering to heal us all… If you are having trouble forgiving another person or even yourself, ask God to help you. Forgiveness is a glorious, healing principle.” Kevin R. Duncan

Pain—both physical and emotional—is part of our human experience and one of our greatest teachers. Life is a learn-by-experience venture. We know all about opposition, but we’d rather forgo pain and just have pleasure. Pure love, the greatest joy we can experience, comes with the risk—certainty, really—of pain. This is especially evident in families.  Spouses, our sweethearts, confidants, and partners, hold in their hands our trusting hearts, which are easily wounded by thoughtless or selfish words and actions. Mothers experience the sweetest joy and the deepest pain because of their love for their children.  Children are vulnerable to the hurt caused by their parents, who, try though they might to be perfect, fail and wound their fragile sons and daughters. Siblings, who know our weaknesses and tender spots, also wield a great deal of power to hurt  us.  In all loving relationships, the possibility (and probability) of pain is a reality. We continually need healing from the hurtful acts of others. We can learn how to heal, forgive, and become better for the experience, or we can stay stuck, hold grudges, and blame, locking ourselves in a painful prison without parole.

I recognize there are many degrees of harm.  Severe trauma and abuse, especially of innocent children, are so tragic and painful that healing and forgiveness may require professional help and may be a lifelong process.  We mourn for them and pray for them, remembering that Jesus said, “Suffer the little children to come unto me.” He loves them. He sees them. No child is outside His reach.

We’re aware that none of us is perfect, yet often we struggle to forgive the imperfect behavior of those we love, because of the pain it has caused us. We were never promised a perfect childhood, perfect parents, perfect siblings, or a perfect spouse.  In fact, I’m certain the family members we have are specifically chosen by a loving and wise Heavenly Father to provide us with opportunities for growth.  Sometimes we feel indignant that we got that insensitive spouse, those ridiculously strict parents, mutinously stubborn kids, or selfish, smelly siblings. Don’t we secretly think we deserve better and, because of this, blame others for our current problems and pain? Certainly, some of our problems do stem from our childhood and our flawed family members, but growing (and growing up!) requires accepting responsibility for our own troubles, seeking help for needed healing, and offering mercy to those who let us down. 

“This is not to say that forgiveness is easy…It can be very difficult to forgive someone the harm they’ve done us, but when we do, we open ourselves up to a better future. No longer does someone else’s wrongdoing control our course. When we forgive others, it frees us to choose how we will live our own lives. Forgiveness means that problems of the past no longer dictate our destinies, and we can focus on the future with God’s love in our hearts.” David E. Sorensen

I struggle with forgiving myself for the pain I’ve caused others. It’s a challenge to remember that I’m not required to be perfect right now and that to our Father in Heaven, I’m still a child, too, learning by my mistakes. I want to be forgiven, especially by my children. The knowledge that I’ve hurt them in many ways, though I try, try, try to be a good mom, is a weight on my heart.  My continual prayer is that Jesus will make them whole, healing their pain and blessing it for their good. He promises to do that.

Though there will always be much to forgive, parents often get a bad rap, now more than ever. There’s a whole lot of blaming going on. The majority of parents, who have their own pain to work through, love their children and do their best for them. Let’s remember the tender snuggles, the mended owies, the hands held, the sweet, soft cheeks kissed, and the nightmares comforted. Let’s appreciate the meals prepared, the money earned, the rides provided, and the holidays and birthdays made special. Let’s be thankful for the lessons taught, the scriptures read, and the Priesthood blessings given. We don’t even know the tears shed, the floors paced, the nights without sleep, and the prayers petitioned by loving parents just doing the best they can.

With the help of the Savior, we can love imperfect parents, children, siblings, spouses, and friends. We can forgive them. I’ve found peace from letting go of old hurts and appreciating the good in my wonderful, beautiful, crazy family members. Sometimes complete forgiveness takes many years, but I’ve also felt the miracle of an instantly changed heart. As I uncover injuries and pain in my healing journey, I seek the Lord’s help to understand how it’s affected me, learn a better way, and forgive myself and others, through my Savior’s mercy and grace.  I forgive—and hope to be forgiven. 

 “Forgiveness provides release—a doorway out for the injured. It doesn’t mean excusing or condoning the act; it means leaving judgment to the Lord. When we forgive, the Savior relieves us of our burden through His Atonement. He can replace despair with peace and heal us completely.” Barbara A. Lewis, Feb. 2019 Ensign

The greatest example of God’s love for His children is found in the infinite Atonement of Jesus Christ. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” John 3:16

I’m the kind of mom who asks my kids to eat before going somewhere, take water with them, check the weather in case they need a sweatshirt, get to bed at a decent hour, text when they get where they’re going, come in and say goodnight when they get home, etc.  Generally, they don’t appreciate this. They don’t see the love behind it.  I love them enough to ask them to take care of themselves and to let me know they’re safe. It seems simple and clear to me, but from their vantage point, not so much. Evidently, it can be annoying to be loved.

Because of these mom feelings, it’s easy for me to see that giving us commandments is one way our Heavenly Father shows His love.  He wants us to be safe. He sees the pitfalls and is helping us avoid them. I’ve always felt the love in His words of counsel and warning, but I know I miss them, sometimes, in other important ways. I have to look for the love, really search for it, in the hard things, but it’s always there. When I make the effort to look, I find it.

Last week was a hard one for me.  My youngest daughter was out of town for the week.  That’s not my favorite because I miss her, and I worry about her.  Don’t tell me all the reasons I shouldn’t; I never claimed to be rational.  She’s my sunshine and when she’s gone, it’s dark.  Hopefully, I get points here, because I let her go, even though I don’t want to. I do try to act rationally, even though I don’t always think rationally. (Patting myself on the back here and saying, “It’s okay.  You’re trying.”)

I had a much-anticipated trip with friends on my calendar near the end of the week, but that seemed eons away.  After a couple of long, sad days, I decided a change of scenery was needed. I headed out to visit another light in my life, a daughter about 6 hours away. It was a struggle. I had trouble shaking the gloom.  To be honest, it’s been dogging me lately. Thankfully, sunshine returned during the laughter-filled time with my sweet daughter.  Hugs, and a meal made by her and hubby, lifted my heart. That short visit was a treasure. I felt the love: the love of my daughter, and the love of my Heavenly Father. What a blessing that He gave me precious children, each of whom bring light and joy into my life. I feel His love through my children.  I know how much I love them—too much to express, sometimes so much it’s hard to bear—and I know His love is even greater. It’s more pure, more complete, more selfless, more knowing.  Just more.  I rely on it, and it never fails.

“Our Heavenly Father’s plan contains the ultimate expressions of true love. All that we hold dear—even our families, our friends, our joy, our knowledge, our testimonies—would vanish were it not for our Father and His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. … The world has witnessed no greater gift, nor has it known more lasting love.” Thomas S. Monson

When I met up with my dear friends on Thursday, it felt like Disneyland, as a kid. Finally! It’s here. Laughter, hugs, talking, more hugs, more talking, some tears, more laughter, repeat. Fun!  (Remember fun?)  Why do we need friends—dear, unbiased, empathetic, non-related, uplifting, funny, wise, serious, food-loving, accepting friends—so much? They help us let go and take ourselves less seriously. They listen and validate us when it’s serious and needs tender care. They feed and nurture us, both physically and spiritually, and carry our burdens with us. They honestly and quietly say, “Me too.”  They remind us we matter, no matter what. Their time and love proclaim, “Heavenly Father loves you.”

This trip with friends is a miracle to me. I lived in Vegas for 10 years, moved to Utah for three, then back to Vegas (same house, same ward, same everything) for more than 10 now.  After 20 years here, there are many dear, supportive friends who bless my life daily, including my sweet and funny sisters who both live here.  What’s amazing, also, is that during that short little blip in Utah, I met beautiful, loving sisters Heavenly Father knew I needed to meet. I worked in callings with women who helped and strengthened me, becoming cherished friends and wise counselors. I met an amazing sister who would later go through a divorce the same time I did, texting every day, sometimes every hour, holding my hand, so to speak, to get me through. These friends have been angels to me.

During the three years we lived in Utah, my husband left the church, and my life changed, and would keep changing, in ways I never imagined. God wasn’t surprised.  He’s never surprised.  He “knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him.” He lovingly made all the plans, laid the groundwork, and blessed me with everything I’d need to get through the coming storms. He is my anchor, and He provided life preservers, as well.

As I sat in the temple, surrounded by these three, long-distance, treasured friends, I felt the love of my Father in Heaven surrounding me. Knowing and loving these ladies, when I needed it many years ago, and when I need it, right now, is a miracle to me—nothing less than a miracle—provided by a loving Father. How humbling. How beautiful.  How kind. He truly loves me! And I love Him.

“Because thy lovingkindess is better than life, my lips shall praise thee.” Psalm 63:3