I’ve been known to send my Christmas letter in Spring or Summer, so I suppose it’s fine to share my thoughts on 2020 in March.  It’s a win in my battle against perfectionism—yay me.

Looking back on the year gives us perspective and reminds us where we’ve had victories and losses and what we’ve learned from them.  Then we can go forward in faith, recognizing that we aren’t perfect yet, the world isn’t what we want it to be, and God is still good and glorious and full of grace.

I just read in my scriptures, “…to be carnally-minded is death, and to be spiritually-minded is life eternal.” (2 Nephi 9:39) It’s so easy to be “carnally-minded” and think about all the things that didn’t go well last year.  It does feel like death when I do that.  And I do.  Too much.  I get dragged down, just like Satan wants me to, by dwelling on the sad, difficult, downright rotten stuff that went on, and that is still going on, in the world, in our country, and in our neighborhoods and families.  When I let myself be carnally-minded, I don’t function well.  I don’t write or lift others or feel the Spirit the way I do when I remember and work at being spiritually-minded. Then I remember to rely on the arm of the Lord, to trust His plan, His strength, and His mercy, and let go of fear and discouragement.   

Near the end of 2020, I was feeling burdened and sad about my perceived lack of sacrifices and contributions for the Lord.  I had been going through a rough patch and struggling to get through each day.  I wasn’t doing much.  I spent a lot of time doing quiet activities at home, like puzzles, crocheting, and reading, trying to keep my anxiety and sadness under control. I was working with my counselor, attempting to understand and believe it was okay to be in a different place than I’ve been before, in regard to serving in the church, serving family, and serving others, in general.

I prayed about this, pondered it, asked the Lord to help me see myself as I really am now, and as He sees me.  He answered my prayer in His loving and merciful way by prompting me to look back at my calendar “list” of things I’ve done throughout the year. 

• The early part of the year, I walked beside my beloved mother as she prepared to be with God again. I spent my time mostly with her, taking care of her physical needs, visiting, doing some small projects together, and just quietly being there for her. I was holding her as she died peacefully, in my home. My sisters and I worked and cried together during this sad time. 

• In the spring, not long after Mom left us, I packed up our home of 25 years, and, with help from family and the Lord, moved my daughter, son, and I to a new home across town right when covid 19 shutdowns began. 

• During the shutdowns, I traveled to California to help my daughter as she courageously brought her fourth baby into the world, visited my kids in Utah, celebrating with my son at his new first home, arranged a gathering of a few dear friends, which gave us all a much-needed boost, and took my youngest kids with me for a wonderful, healing visit with my son and his sweet family in Portland.

• As summer crawled by, I spent dozens of hours on a video presentation of the lives of my Mom and Dad, feeling them close, and taking time to grieve.

• In the fall, I arranged a family gathering with all of my children, and their families, who hadn’t all been together in three years. Among joy, chaos, and hilarity, there were also tears at our private memorial for Mom and Dad, with grandchildren’s memories, the video presentation, and beautiful piano music from my son. 

• Throughout the year, I wrote 29 blog posts, sharing my testimony and hope, and helped my children through difficult health issues, trauma, disappointment and heartbreak simply by being there and loving them with all my aching heart.

As I read over the list, and revisited the meaningful events throughout 2020, I was taught and comforted by the Spirit.  Though I had struggled, needed down time, and felt unequal to many tasks, the year had still held achievements, sacrifices, and service for those I love. I’m thankful for a merciful Father who hears my prayers and gently helps me see through spiritual eyes.

I have a bit of OCD and find it soothing to go through everything I own about once every 3 months, sorting, organizing, and eliminating anything I don’t need or use.  I’d qualify for a platinum membership at Deseret Industries (thrift store donations), if they had one. I love the feeling of simplifying, paring down, and making room for future interests. Not all my family members appreciated this over the years, however, and more than once, I’ve been admonished, “Mom, stop giving everything away!” Once I accidentally donated all my college-age daughter’s dress clothes, which she had put into two big black trash bags for storage. After an unsuccessful attempt to find them at the local donation center, we gave up and had a good cry. I’ve also occasionally had to repurchase something I’d given away, but I feel that’s a small price to pay.

Since I’ve now been in my new home for over 3 months, and some of the placement of stuff was a little rushed in the beginning, I spent the week systematically going through everything, finding just the right locations to optimize space. I happily minimized significantly when I moved to nearly half the space, but I still managed to find plenty to donate to DI this time around. I know that seems weird to many people, and I admit it is sometimes a bit of an obsession, but it helps keep my mind clear and free of clutter, in some way.

During my cleaning-out process this week, I read a wonderful talk, “Consistent and Resilient Trust” by Elder L. Todd Budge, from the October 2019 General Conference, which I highly recommend. Elder Budge shares:

“In a paradoxical way, afflictions and sorrow prepare us to experience joy if we will trust in the Lord and His plan for us. This truth is beautifully expressed by a 13th-century poet: ‘Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place.’

“…Our trials and afflictions can make space for greater joy.

“The good news of the gospel is not the promise of a life free of sorrow and tribulation but a life full of purpose and meaning—a life where our sorrows and afflictions can be ‘swallowed up in the joy of Christ.’ The Savior declared, ‘In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.’ His gospel is a message of hope. Sorrow coupled with hope in Jesus Christ holds the promise of enduring joy.”

I was touched and comforted by these words and the picture they painted.  In the same way cleaning out my home clears my mind and makes room, my trials cleanse my soul, providing space for me to grow. I believe all of us have experienced an increase in afflictions and sorrow recently, and I’m thankful for messages like this one to remind us that hard things have a purpose, and because of our Dear Savior, we can hope for “far better things.” Let’s keep holding on to our hope in Him.

PS As I typed the title for this post, I left off the “S” accidentally.  It made me stop and think of the connection Elder Budge referred to between weeping, sweeping, and joy.

“It is the wounded Christ who is the captain of our soul—he who yet bears the scars of sacrifice, the lesions of love and humility and forgiveness.

“Those wounds are what he invites young and old, then and now, to step forward and see and feel.  Then we remember with Isaiah that it was for each of us that our Master was ‘despised and rejected … ; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.’ All this we could remember when we are invited by a kneeling young priest to remember Christ always.” Elder Jeffrey R. Holland

I missed posting last week. It’s the first week I’ve missed in over a year, and I was pretty down about it. I had a week where I just couldn’t seem to get it together. As I spoke with a friend about all that was going on, the words I used to express how I felt were that I couldn’t get my feet under me. That’s how life has been, especially these last few weeks. My body and my mind have been trying to catch up on rest, but upheaval and stress make it difficult. Dealing with all the emotions of losing my mom, the many times I went to tell her something before remembering she wasn’t there, the painful memories of her last weeks, along with the relentless details of closing the book on her earthly life, has been a challenge.

At the same time, I have the exciting and overwhelming task of preparing for a move that is getting closer by the minute. More details. Incessant details. My list includes scheduling the move, document signings, utilities hookups, piano movers, bug guy, insurance, along with sorting and packing. Meanwhile, I’m trying to cope with a flood of memories associated with saying goodbye to the home I’ve lived in, loved in, laughed and cried in, for nearly 25 years.

In the midst of these taxing events, my youngest daughter has been having health issues, including pneumonia last week.  Worry for her, and sadness about her having to let go of some things that are really important to her, piled on top of my growing heap of stress. Then, of course, there’s just day-to-day living, with all of its ups and downs, including concern and love for my other six children and their families, who all have their own mountains to climb.

As I shared these feelings, crying on the shoulder of my trusted confidant, her love and faith eased my burden, and I felt able to face another day.  She, in turn, shared much that was going on in her life. Her trials, upcoming events, family and health concerns, and church assignments were staggering. She wholeheartedly concurred with the feeling of not being able to get her feet under her, but we held on to the knowledge of a loving Heavenly Father and His plan for our lives. Our troubles were lightened by our shared hope in Christ.

I believe most, if not all, of us are feeling these emotions, which are part of life in the world we now live in. We’re often tossed on the sea, feeling like we’re in a sinking ship.  However, we know the Captain of our ship; we aren’t steering into the storm alone. At times it may seem as if we’re not even in the boat, but floundering around in the waves, pleading for a line. The amazing part is, our Savior is always there to throw us the life saver. He is able to calm the seas and our troubled hearts. He sees. He knows. He sends help.

Jesus, Savior, pilot me

Over life’s tempestuous sea;

Unknown waves before me roll,

Hiding rock and treach’rous shoal.

Chart and compass came from thee;

Jesus, Savior, pilot me.

As a mother stills her child,

Thou canst hush the ocean wild;

Boist’rous waves obey thy will

When thou say’st to them, “Be still!”

Wondrous Sov’reign of the sea,

Jesus, Savior, pilot me.

When at last I near the shore,

And the fearful breakers roar

’Twixt me and the peaceful rest,

Then, while leaning on thy breast,

May I hear thee say to me,

“Fear not; I will pilot thee.”

(Edward Hopper, 1818–1888)

Remembering my Jesus is in all of this with me, brings the sunshine back into my day. He is my rock, my sure foundation when I can’t get my feet under me. I don’t have the answers, but He does. I don’t have the wisdom, but He does.  I don’t have the strength, but He does. And He’ll always, always be my Captain, through calm or stormy seas.

“Mortality is a period of testing, a time to prove ourselves worthy to return to the presence of our Heavenly Father. In order for us to be tested, we must face challenges and difficulties. These can break us, and the surface of our souls may crack and crumble—that is, if our foundations of faith, our testimonies of truth are not deeply embedded within us.

“We can rely on the faith and testimony of others only so long. Eventually we must have our own strong and deeply placed foundation, or we will be unable to withstand the storms of life, which will come.” Thomas S. Monson

“The path of modern pioneers is not easy. Burdens carried in the heart can be just as heavy as those pulled in a handcart.” Dallin H. Oaks

This week I was in Utah for July 24th and the celebration of Pioneer Day for members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. It’s a big deal there, with many businesses taking the day off, temples closed, and parades and fireworks in abundance. It’s a wonderful day honoring those stalwart early members of the church and followers of Christ, who stayed the course and sacrificed so much to prepare the way for all who would follow.

When I was a younger woman, I didn’t like to read about pioneers.  It was too sad, overwhelming, devastating.  All I heard was the heartache and loss.  I was thankful for them, their contribution, their dedication, and their fortitude, which were awe inspiring, but I didn’t want to read about them—it was too painful. Sometimes I wondered if I could have been as brave as they had to be.  Would I have been able to stick with it through all the persecutions and hardships?  Could I have kept going if my children or husband had to be buried along the way?  Would I have pressed on when most everyone seemed to be against me and what I believe?

As I grew older, having suffered heartache and loss myself, I began to draw strength from the stories of pioneers. Instead of feeling despair reading their experiences, suddenly I felt a kinship with them, and was encouraged by their victories over discouragement and difficulty. I started to understand that we shared some of the same fears and failures, hopes and hallelujahs.

“Many of our challenges are different from those faced by former pioneers but perhaps just as dangerous and surely as significant to our own salvation and the salvation of those who follow us. For example, as for life-threatening obstacles, the wolves that prowled around pioneer settlements were no more dangerous to their children than the drug dealers or pornographers who threaten our children. Similarly, the early pioneers’ physical hunger posed no greater threat to their well-being than the spiritual hunger experienced by many in our day.”

Dallin H. Oaks

The first time I felt like maybe I would have been a faithful pioneer, able to follow the call of the Lord even though I feared for my children, was when I was prompted to move my family from Utah back to Las Vegas. I’d already lived in Vegas for 10 years and had been happy to get out of there and enjoy Utah for 3 years. I didn’t want to go back. My kids were settled, some in high school, and I knew it would be painful for them to leave friends and go to new schools. I couldn’t understand how it could possibly be a good thing for me to take my teenage sons to “sin city” where everywhere you look there are businesses and billboards with temptation and sexualization. My husband had recently left the church, and we were struggling with what that meant in our family, as well. Thankfully, we had loved ones in Vegas, friends and family. In fact, I believe it was to bless family members and for them to bless us, in the future, that we were called back.  At the time, I didn’t know the reasons, but I knew the voice of the Spirit, and I knew my Heavenly Father loved me. I believed, with all my heart, that whatever He asked me to do would be for my good, and the good of my family.  I was afraid and heartbroken, but I was determined, like those pioneers, to cling to my covenants, do what was asked of me, and trust God to take care of us. So, during one of the most difficult times in my life, we packed up, said goodbye to dear friends, and moved our family back to the same home we had left three years previous, and, again like those pioneers, we were blessed, strengthened, and guided by our loving Father. 

Since that experience, 11 years ago, I have seen many parallels from my life, and the lives of believing friends, to those of revered pioneers we honor on Pioneer Day.

“What a wonderful thing it is to have behind us a great and noble body of progenitors! What a marvelous thing to be the recipients of a magnificent heritage that speaks of the guiding hand of the Lord, of the listening ear of His prophets, of the total dedication of a vast congregation of Saints who loved this cause more than life itself!

“…With so great an inheritance, we can do no less than our very best. Those who have gone before expect this of us. We have a mandate from the Lord. We have a vision of our cause and purpose.

“…We honor best those who have gone before when we serve well in the cause of truth. Gordon B. Hinckley

As we get closer to the Second Coming of Jesus Christ, it is progressively apparent we will have to stand up for the “cause of truth” amid forceful opposition, conflicting worldly knowledge and beliefs, and even loved ones’ disagreement.

It’s becoming increasingly unpopular to believe:

• God created the earth, everything in countless universes, and human beings, making each of us His child, beloved of Him, and therefore worthy of love and kindness from each other.
• He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to save us from the effects of death and sin, if we choose to repent.
• He created man and woman to marry and form families, which are the eternal unit of Earth and Heaven, and we are still commanded to multiply and replenish the earth, and protect children, born and unborn.
• He has restored His gospel in its fullness, with prophets and apostles, just as in the time of Christ, and it’s found in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.
• There is right and wrong, good and bad, and God’s commandments are still in force today, including loving and forgiving others who may choose to exercise their agency differently than we do.

Speak up about any of these things in a group of people, and you may find yourself, like the pioneers, opposed and wounded by harsh words. Like them, we need faith and courage. We may watch loved ones walk away from the faith we cherish and possibly turn away from us.  We may face persecution from inside and outside our families, be falsely accused of beliefs, thoughts, and actions we don’t espouse, or see family members imprisoned by addiction.  We may need to be rescued and carried during times of illness, crisis, or spiritual starvation, or watch our children suffer it. We may walk long, dark roads of depression or climb perilous mountains of trials. In all of this, we can remember, we’re not alone.  We can rely on the Lord to carry us through it just as He did pioneer men, women, and children who chose to follow Him, even in the midst of severe physical and emotional conditions.  With His help, and the aid of fellow saints, they did it, and we can too. Hurrah for Israel!

“If you take each challenge one step at a time, with faith in every footstep, your strength and understanding will increase. You cannot foresee all of the turns and twists ahead. My counsel to you is to follow the direction of the Savior of the world: ‘Be not afraid, only believe.’” James E. Faust