The Son shone brightly this Easter morn!

For those of us in the Salt Lake Valley, it's been a long, hard winter. Yes, I lived in Montana for seven years, where winters could be even more challenging, but in my 12 years here in Utah, I've never experienced such relentless cold or never-ending snow. Every time we dared to think "Maybe this is the last big storm," another arrived. As recently as last week, we had over foot of new snowfall, closing our local school district yet again and triggering my driving anxiety. Yet again!

But this Easter morn, the Son shone brightly!

Guys! It is such a beautiful day! As I walked into church, wearing a short-sleeved dress and no coat, I couldn't help think about the first Easter morn, when after three days of what must have been crippling grief, Jesus's followers awoke to a beautiful day. Their Lord had risen, culminating the most miraculous event in human history, and the most impactful. The Son shone brightly that Easter morn.

....as it does today. For us! Easter reminds us that hope is ours for the asking. It is freely given, and received by anyone who desires it. 

Even after the snowiest winter, because of the Son, the sun will shine again.

Through the most tumultuous storms, whether literal or figurative, because of the Son, calm will come.

They say time heals all wounds, but that is not true. Jesus heals all wounds. Absolutely all of them.

Not that I'm wishing time away, because I'm definitely not. I actually find myself regularly wishing time would slow down. But I do look forward with excitement to the end of this year when we get to study the extremely cool book: The Revelation of St. John the Divine, which includes one of my most favorite references:

"And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it; for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. And the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it: and the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour into it" (Revelation 21:23-24).

You know, had Easter come any earlier this year, we would have had some snowy Easter egg hunts. And that would have been just fine too because, as the above scripture promises, we have no need of the sun to lighten our lives, if we invite the Son to do so. 

Still, I like to think God looked down upon all of us here in the valley, and with infinite grace, sent us spring, just in time for Easter.

The Son shone brightly this Easter morn!

I am grateful.

(Early Happy Birthday to our favorite Isaiah, who will be working in Las Vegas next week on his actual birthday!)

Tears of Sadness

Let me begin by saying that, for me, this was the best General Conference in recent years. The Palm Sunday/Easter focus, the outreach/gathering focus, and most importantly, the cumulative Christ focus were unparalleled. I sat for nine hours and soaked it in. Every word, every hymn, every prayer pointed me closer to the Savior and His infinite love. I closed out the weekend feeling joy, hope, and inspiration to go forth and do His will.

Saturday evening, Amanda, Eli, and I watched the session together in our basement. That's where we have the biggest, nicest TV, a cozy sectional couch, warm blankets, and soft lighting. Snacks in hand, we gathered to listen and learn. 

During the final talk, I noticed tears in Eli's eyes. He was fighting hard against them, but come they did. I had no idea why. When the talk ended and also the session, Eli declared: "That one really got me."

"Why?" I asked.  

The talk by Elder K. Brett Nattress of the Seventy began with his testimony that our Heavenly Parents and our Savior love us and always remember us. Then he asked, "Do we always remember them?" He followed up by telling the story of a young man he once knew. Danny had been raised in the Church, and at some point got lost in the chaos of drug addiction, particularly methamphetamine. His life spiraled out of control for awhile, but ultimately, he chose to get the help he needed to overcome this challenge. At one meeting with his bishop, the bishop said, "Danny, I think we should talk about preparing your papers to serve a full-time mission."

Danny: Oh, Bishop, I would love to serve a mission, but you know the things I've done. I'm afraid I've lost that opportunity.

Bishop: Well, I don't know for sure, but let's try and see what happens. If it turns out you are excused, you will know that your desire was to serve the Lord, and you did all you could.

A few months later, Danny received a letter in the mail from the First Presidency of the Church with his call to serve a full-time mission. He served faithfully for 24 months, returned home, married, and is now raising a family of his own in the Church.

This was a touching story of the absolute central message of the gospel, and it warmed my soul to hear it; however, I still didn't understand why it had been such a trigger for Eli, whose story was nothing like Danny's.

He proceeded to explain.

"Mom, all I could think about was my friend Jack [name changed]."

Jack, too, was raised in the Church and became sidetracked during high school with alcohol and marijuana. Like Danny, Jack eventually decided he no longer wanted that life; he wanted to change! He went to his bishop for help and told him that one day, he would like to serve a mission. The bishop's words stung this young man to his core:

"Oh, you won't ever be approved to serve a mission, after your behavior."

I watched Eli's heart break for his friend, whom he hasn't seen in a decade. I, as well, have fond memories of Jack, transporting him and Eli to and from sports events and choir activities during middle school, seeing him at church occasionally, though he wasn't in our ward. My heart breaks for him all these years later.

I'm grateful for bishops like the one Elder Natteress described in his talk, one who believes in the healing, transformative power of the Savior's atonement; one who tries to love as Jesus loves; one who looks at a kid and sees his divine potential, rather than his past mistakes. We have a bishop like that in our ward. One of his favorite lines is "You can't mistake your way out of the redeeming love of your Savior."

I'm grateful for bishops like that.