This little town had a small branch with a beautiful new chapel. After we got settled in and toured our new home, we found the members to be very friendly and helpful. They accepted us eagerly. It felt as comfortable to us as if were back home! The only problem was the geographic size of the branch. Its boundaries were over 400 square miles. This meant we did a lot of traveling to visit members and prospective converts across many miles and in many small towns and villages. We were not alone, though; there were many young elders and sisters on missions there to assist us. We loved working with them.

One hot summer day, two of our young sister missionaries were tracting on a street not far from their apartment. It got to be close to lunch time and they decided to stop and go home to eat and rest. They turned to leave, but then one of the sisters turned back again and said, “Let’s do one more home. We must go visit that house.” She pointed to a gray stucco home down the block. “But why?” asked her companion. “I don’t know why. I feel we just have to do it.”

They obeyed the prompting and proceeded to knock on the door of this home. 

As they did, a gentle older man answered the door. One sister started to explain who they were when the gentleman stopped her and said kindly, “Oh, I know who you are. I’ve been waiting for you. Please come in.”

This stunned the sisters. They had never been so eagerly invited into a home before. The older gentleman, James, then went on to explain that a long time ago he had been baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Since then, he had fallen away and done some things since that had caused him to jeopardize his membership in the Church. He was getting older now and knew he had to amend his errors before he died. He had been trying to repent and get back into the Church but didn’t know how. The sisters said they would gladly assist him in doing so. After a while, they left and promised to return. This they did a few days later, only to be met by his wife at the door. She was not friendly at all and blocked them from entering the home. 

After a few more unsuccessful attempts to meet the gentleman again, they called on my wife and me to see if we could help them with this situation. We were glad to do so. 

On our first call, we were able to meet with James. He invited us in but it was an extremely uncomfortable visit. All the while we talked, someone was in the kitchen making as much noise as they could, trying to disturb us. James apologized and said it was his wife, who did not want us there. After a brief message, we left without accomplishing much.

We returned a few days later when an event happened that we shall never forget. As we knocked on the door, Mary, James’s wife, greeted us with, “We are not interested in talking to you at all, so please go away.” The more we tried to reason with her, the more belligerent she became. She finally pushed open the screen door and forced us off the porch. She didn’t stop there. She continued pushing us out and onto the sidewalk while raising her voice louder and louder so everyone on the block could hear her. It was quite embarrassing to us. But we just stood quietly there, saying nothing. Her tyrant lasted at least 10 minutes. I’m not sure if those young missionary sisters would have been able to withstand this assault.

via lds.org

Trying to find some way to stop her and allow us to get a word or two in, I looked around her front lawn and saw a pretty rose bush in bloom. When she finished a sentence, I took the opportunity to compliment her on her roses. At first, she said nothing and continued on. I complimented her on a few other things that were growing there. Little by little, she relaxed and finally agreed to show us her backyard. She was very proud of her garden there, where she had other flowers in bloom.

The ice was broken. Slowly we started to talk more socially with one another. After a few minutes it became apparent that Mary was afraid of us. She was worried we were there to take her husband away from her with our strange doctrine. We learned later that Mary was a very insecure person who came from a background of abuse. This marriage to James was the most secure and precious relationship she had ever had, and she was not going let us take it away.

When our discussion was over, we left each other on talking terms and said we would return in a day or two if that was agreeable to her. She said yes, we could, but not to expect much from her.

Driving to and from our area every day took us through a lovely small town with a huge roadside nursery. A few days earlier we had stopped to look around. As we did, we saw a beautiful hibiscus floral plant in full bloom. It had the largest pink flowers I had ever seen on a bush before. Each was the size of a pie plate. I remarked then, “I wish we had room for this at our place.” 

That evening as we reviewed our day, a thought came to us. It must have been the Holy Ghost speaking. We thought, What would happen if we bought that hibiscus and gave it to Mary? Would she accept it? Would that help us reach her as friends? We decided to do so and bought the flower the next time we drove past the nursery. 

With the lovely hibiscus flower in the back seat of our car, we went to see James and Mary again. As we marched up to the house holding that beautiful plant in full bloom, Mary came to the door. We held it out to her and said this flower was for her to plant somewhere in her yard. She looked at us, completely bewildered, and said nothing for a long time. She simply looked in disbelief at it and us. Then great tears welled up in her eyes. She was overcome with emotion to the point of being almost speechless. After a while she confessed, “I am 76 years old. I have had a rough life and this is the first time ever that anyone has given me a flower. Thank you so much.” 

I have had many emotional encounters in my life, but never one as deeply touching or life-changing as that moment. This poor soul had never even been given a simple thing like a flower before. No wonder she didn’t trust strangers.

The next day we returned in our casual clothes. Mary, James, and my wife and I found a nice spot of ground in their front yard. We all four got down on our hands and knees and happily dug a hole and planted that very special hibiscus. That flower still blooms to this day. 

Mary took the missionary lessons from us and our dear sister missionaries. Her husband met with the branch president and found his long-awaited road back to full fellowship. 

Our mission was coming quickly to an end. It was nearly time for us to return home to Utah. As it worked out, we were able to baptize Mary into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on the last day of our mission. What a wonderful way to say goodbye to our dear new friends.

We still communicate with Mary. She is a changed person. She now serves in the Relief Society presidency of that small branch and writes or emails us almost daily.

I don’t know how we could have ever reach her if it were not for “Flower Power.”

George Domm

George Domm was born and raised in upstate New York around historical LDS sites such as the Hill Cumorah and Palmyra. He was very familiar with the Church long before he was baptized in 1959. Soon after joining, he found himself serving a full-time mission for the Church in Berlin, Germany. That was his first of four missions! George currently lives in American Fork, UT with his wife, Margaret, and busies himself trying to keep up with their 11 children and 42 grandchildren. He loves to do family history and play golf with “all the old men in our neighborhood.” His goal is to one day shoot his age, 74.

That sounds rather dramatic. I don’t mean to say that my life was ever truly “out of sorts,” but rather that I never felt like I “fit in” with life since coming home from my mission. My older sister described it best when she said that arriving home from your mission feels like jumping off a cliff into a river. You crash into the water and start to float down. You always feel your faith in God keeping you afloat, but you don’t really know where you’re going. It takes quite a while to get your bearings and figure things out. Now, I can finally say I’m getting past that floating stage and moving in a direction that I want to be going.

This has happened for a variety of reasons. The main reason is that I’ve found the girl I’m going to marry. Dating her has felt like coming home in many ways, and our relationship has given me the direction that I need to be going in. Secondary to that, I feel like I’m getting the hang of finances, understanding how college works, figuring out career opportunities (I even made a LinkedIn account!), and I’m now understanding how the gospel works in the real world. If I’m being honest, high school isn’t the real world, and even a mission is not completely real world. It’s been amazing to see how all of my past experiences have prepared me for what I’m doing at 21 years old, and I know that what I do now will prepare me for when I’m 22, and so on.

A variety of lessons have stood out to me throughout this process of getting on my feet, and I’ll share one quickly. I feel strongly that the Lord is patient with us. Indeed, He is all-knowing and all-loving, so why not all-patient? He knows when we are facing something new and has patience with us as we try to figure it out. I faced a myriad of new things when I came home from my mission, and now, as I look into marriage, I’m bombarded with even more new things. This has caused me stress and I feel like I’m not as able to serve others because I’m dealing with so much on my own.

There’s a balance to this: yes, we must serve others despite how busy we are, BUT we cannot run ourselves dry. I am confident that there are times in our lives when we must focus more on ourselves, and then there are times when we have a greater capacity to reach out. Jesus Himself even took time for Himself, such as when He heard John the Baptist had died and sought alone time for prayer and recovery. We too need time for recovery, and there is no sin in seeking that time for ourselves.

In perhaps my favorite BYU devotional of all time, “Personal Ministry: Sacred and Precious,” Bonnie D. Parkin discusses the idea of having a personal ministry. For example, Elder Neal Maxwell served as an apostle, but he constantly remarked that his personal ministry was in ministering to fellow cancer patients. Even Jesus, whose mission saved all of humanity, served a personal ministry throughout Jerusalem and its surrounding villages. We too have a personal ministry, and much of it lies in one-on-one actions as we go from daily task to daily task. So long as we live in the moment and seek to serve while we get things done for ourselves, we will be fulfilling our personal ministry AND taking care of ourselves at the same time. It doesn’t have to be too much; all it takes is a willing heart and a love for people.

Another lesson Sister Parkin teaches is that we must be willing not only to serve but to BE served. I recently had my 21st birthday. Anyone that knows me knows that I typically dislike birthdays. I just hate being the center of attention sometimes! However, my mission taught me that allowing others to serve you not only gives you relief but gives others joy in service. Thus, I am trying to do better at letting others serve me, especially when I find myself weak and tired, for in their service everyone is benefitted.

To read more of Adam’s articles, click here.

What I’m trying to say is that both service and being served are required. We go through a variety of phases in our lives. Some phases will be dedicated to service, such as my mission, while other phases are dedicated to getting our own lives in order, like the 9 months since coming home from my mission. Whichever phase we are in, we can be patient with ourselves because we know God is patient with us. And then, when the time comes that we figure things out – and we will – we can enter a phase of service and truly advance our personal ministries. I know that planning my wedding and beginning marriage will be a phase of figuring things out, and it will be hard and I may feel selfish at times, but I know that that phase will soon be over and my wife and I can truly do some good in this world.

The Lord is patient while we figure stuff out. We don’t have to do everything to please Him. All we have to do is rely on and trust Him. And then, when things are figured out, we will be in the ideal place for our service to truly begin.

Adam Simpson

Adam Simpson is a man of many unique talents, from dancing to ultimate frisbee, from drumming to writing. He was born and raised in Layton, Utah, the middle child surrounded by two sisters. He served a mission in Sydney, Australia, and now attends school at BYU. His love for writing comes from a love of philosophy and a love for God.

While I was growing up in the state of New York, the number of young Latter-day Saints was never too great. I happened to be the only member in my whole high school class. Yet the few of us living there did have a fine seminary program. We would gather from all over the city and suburbs for lessons held daily in our little chapel beginning at 7:00 a.m. When I returned from my mission, I attended a junior college near the chapel for a year prior to leaving for Brigham Young University. During that year, I was called to teach that small seminary class. Every school day at 6:00 a.m., I would borrow my father’s car and drive about 25 miles in and around the city and suburbs picking and dropping off class members. On many winter days it was so cold and snowy I barely had time to pick up my class members and get them back home before school started. Sometimes my lessons in between were only five or ten minutes long. But we had fun. Over that year, I developed a special friendship and love for these devoted young people. They were wonderful young saints who later grew to be wonderful missionaries and devoted fathers and mothers.

That seminary meeting program continued for years after I left for school in Utah. Many memorable spiritual events came about from that little seminary class over the years. One of these events that has always touched me deeply involved a sweet young sister, who incidentally was my niece, Ally.

She was a junior at a local high school and was very active in sports, student affairs, and her studies. Even with her heavy schedule, she never failed to attend that early morning seminary class. Quite often she would get behind in her scripture study and could find little time to catch up. Often she would rush through her lunch at school then walk out into the common area and either sit on a bench or find a quiet place in a corner and read a few chapters of scripture before her next class was to begin.

One day while reading from her Book of Mormon, out of the corner of her eye Ally thought she saw someone watching her from across the commons. A young man dressed in a black hoodie with a very tattered old backpack was staring at her. She knew it must be a fellow student but she had no idea of who he was or why he was watching her from so far away. She felt extremely uncomfortable that day but continued reading her scriptures.

This same young man was there again the next day and the day after that, always watching her. Her efforts to avoid him never worked. She became so obsessed by his presence that she could take it no more. On the fourth day, she jumped up from her bench and walked over to him. In a very belligerent tone, she confronted him and asked, “Who are you? What are you doing staring at me like this every day? I don’t know you and I don’t like it. So stop it and go away or I’ll report you.”

The young man was somewhat stunned by this challenge and was almost too shy to respond. After a moment, he quietly asked, “What are you reading?” Ally was taken aback by this question and simply said, “A book. Why do you want to know? What’s it to you?” The young man replied quietly, “What book is it?” Not knowing why he asked this question or what she should say, she simply replied, “It’s called the Book of Mormon. Why do you want to know?”

He sheepishly he opened his backpack and quietly withdrew a book. It was like hers. The same color. The same size. She looked closely at the title. To her surprise, it read “The Book of Mormon.” Ally was puzzled. Why did he have a copy of the Book of Mormon in his backpack? Shyly he looked up and confided to Ally that for days he was trying to get up the nerve to ask her about this book — that’s why he was watching her. He said a friend had given it to him a few weeks earlier and said something about how someday it could change his life. He confessed that he had seen her reading her copy of the Book of Mormon during lunch hour and quietly hoped he could get the confidence and find the opportunity to ask Ally about this book. His question was simple: “Can you please tell me what is so special about this book? It must be special if I see you reading it here every day after you eat lunch when you could be doing something else.”

He was sincere and humble in his questions. He was searching for something. He did not mean to offend Ally or frighten her by watching her. But something had told him to seek her out. He was shy by nature but had a deep desire to know more about this strange book his friend had given him.

The two spoke for a while and it became apparent to Ally that he had had a rough time recently and was looking for help. He wanted answers. Deep inside had hoped that perhaps this book might give him some comfort, guidance, and inspiration.

Ally did not let this opportunity go to waste. Her attitude softened. She felt the Spirit telling her to help him. Slowly they became good friends. She explained the basics she knew about the Book of Mormon. Once she had his confidence, she did what was the next best thing to do under these circumstances: she asked if he would meet with her friends, the missionaries. They could tell him all he needed to know about this powerful book and they could meet at her home for these lessons if he liked. He agreed to do so.

After a few months filled with good teaching by two fine missionaries and Ally’s support, this boy’s life began to change. He accepted the missionary lessons without difficulty and prayed about their message. He was ready and searching for the gospel. A short time later, he was baptized, with Ally and her seminary friends and family present. With good fellowshipping from that little seminary class, he stayed active in the Church. He grew to be loved by his new ward friends. A good bishop worked with him to receive the priesthood. A few years later, this once shy, lost young man dress in a black hoodie who could only stare at Ally, watching her from far away, left to serve a worthy mission for the Church.

I too was a convert to the Church while a senior in high school in that that very same city. I know how he must have felt as he sought to find answers to life’s questions.

Thank goodness that there are saints like Ally who live the gospel with boldness and listen to the Spirit. And like Ally, they are saints who remember that they are called to be missionaries first. They are ready to gather in Israel at any time and under any circumstance, even while being observed from across a school lunch yard. Her kind actions changed the destiny of a young man who was searching for truth too. Further, who knew then how many other lives were changed for the better as he served a mission, married in the temple, and raised his family in the Church?

All this because a young seminary student answered a searching question from a total stranger.

Someone once told me, “We must live the gospel as if people were always looking at us, because our lives may be the only book some people will ever read.”

Ally not only read her Book of Mormon, but her life was also being read by someone seeking the truth of the gospel.

George Domm

George Domm was born and raised in upstate New York around historical LDS sites such as the Hill Cumorah and Palmyra. He was very familiar with the Church long before he was baptized in 1959. Soon after joining, he found himself serving a full-time mission for the Church in Berlin, Germany. That was his first of four missions! George currently lives in American Fork, UT with his wife, Margaret, and busies himself trying to keep up with their 11 children and 42 grandchildren. He loves to do family history and play golf with “all the old men in our neighborhood.” His goal is to one day shoot his age, 74.

Flora and me celebrating her birthday earlier this year.

I met Flora Patton when I moved to Ewa Beach. We attended the same ward. She came sporadically because she didn’t drive and her husband, who isn’t a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, worked so many hours during the week that he was so tired on Sunday morning.

Flora had amazing home and visiting teachers who always responded to her need for a ride to church when she felt like going. She loved sacrament meeting but often left afterward because she said she didn’t always understand what was being said in Sunday School and Relief Society and felt ashamed that she couldn’t follow everything.

The Lord Knows Ways Each of Us Can Serve — Even If We’ve Never Done It Before

A Ladies Night instigated by Flora to say goodbye to Pia

Flora is super extroverted and doesn’t shy away from the limelight. One very in-tune Relief Society counselor proposed to call Flora to be the Relief Society chorister. Flora had never led the singing before but eagerly accepted the calling. The counselor and president spent time with Flora teaching her how to lead the music for Relief Society.

With such an important purpose, Flora began attending every Sunday and really participating in class discussions as well as leading the music. Flora brought her whole heart to class. She was often very real in expressing personal disappointments and frustrations and wondering aloud about her own imperfections and ability to live a righteous life. In those times, the class rallied around her, patiently sharing from their own lives and bearing testimony of the Lord’s mercy and grace. Flora’s confidence in the gospel continued to grow.

Finding Ways to Be With Other Sisters

Flora loves being at church and having church activities. She always has an idea for a church activity. Always.

When any activity was canceled, Flora took the news really hard. She draws strength from being around others. She felt that she could share her talents and ideas best at church by instigating activities, bringing super delicious food, or just being with her community of saints.

Flora bought pizzas for the Huzzey family on moving cleaning day because there was no time to do a Ladies Night Out for Tabbi

At one point, our Ladies Night Out was almost always prompted by Flora’s insistence that we needed one. She wants to celebrate everyone’s birthday, welcome everyone who moves in, and say goodbye to everyone who is leaving by going out to eat with the ladies.

Ironically, the person she looked to plan the thing (me) was happily a hermit. I told her often (pretty much after every single event) that I couldn’t plan another night out again immediately. She nagged me until a date for the next outing was set with a virtual invitation sent out to the ward ladies.

Then she’d call to remind me to pick her up, earlier than necessary, so we could arrive and be present when everyone arrived. She always remembered anyone who had attended but who didn’t attend that night. She missed them all and wanted to plan another outing immediately so everyone could attend again. Flora finds great fulfillment in sisterhood.

Wanting a Meaningful Calling

The Relief Society chorister calling went away with two-hour church. Not having a calling or a way to serve at church frustrated Flora. She wanted a way to serve Heavenly Father and her brothers and sisters at church. She found such identity as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ that way and Flora often lamented to me that she didn’t have a way to serve on Sundays.

Trusting In Herself to Acquire the Skill

Our sacrament meeting chorister graduated from high school and headed off to college. The bishop called Flora to serve as the chorister. She was in heaven. I picked her up early for church and we practiced leading the songs on the way to the chapel.

She grew more and more confident. I started adding songs with different time signatures. Every time she would say, “Oh, I don’t know how to do that one but I will learn.”

I’ve never met anyone so able to see their lack of knowledge and use it to propel them toward greater knowledge. Even though she felt nervous about making mistakes, that fear never paralyzed her. She believed in herself and wanted to do her best. Always.

Wow. I admired her for her tenacious perspective.

All Sunday Callings On Hold Because of COVID-19

Cheri Jessop, Flora Patton, and me on a ministering visit date

Then COVID-19 shut down our regular worship services. Flora really struggled because she filled her spiritual cup at church. In June when I checked on her, she told me, “I’m mad that I can’t go church. Satan is stealing my testimony.”

My ministering partner Cheri and I met with Flora for lunch. I’d learned that church would start again, and we would only go once a month, but we wouldn’t be singing hymns. I explained the situation and gently set her expectations that she would not be a chorister for now because no one would be singing hymns.

She was so devastated.

She called Bishop Lee right away to let him know how she felt about not being able to do her calling when church started.

Bishop Lee had an amazing spiritual prompting. He asked Flora to stand in her chorister spot as I played the songs but to not move her arm or sing. He said that would let the members of the congregation know that it was time to ponder the song lyrics.

Delighted, Flora called me to tell me what Bishop Lee said. Wow! How inspired to meet the needs of this wonderful woman! Flora was so happy to lead the congregation in reverence.

With the state’s mandate of 99 people or less, our ward split in half on the Sundays we met. I played for both meetings and asked Flora if she wanted to attend both with me. Flora felt fine attending her assigned meeting at 11:00 a.m. for two reasons—she doesn’t like getting up early for 8:30 a.m. church and her beloved home teacher returned from his time as mission president and he and his wife were assigned to the same half of the alphabet section as she was.

Flora’s Shining Light

Flora shone during our first sacrament meeting back. She was so proud to serve the Lord in her called way. She loved it so much.

A few weeks later while driving her somewhere, Flora expressed her sorrow that we weren’t meeting every Sunday. She really missed testimony Sundays because she bore her testimony every month. I asked her to bear her testimony to me. “Here? In the car?” she asked. “Yes. I’d love hear it!” So she did.

She shared how happy she was that her beloved home teacher, President Walker, and his wife, Sister Walker, returned. She mentioned folks who had moved and how she wished we could have done a Ladies Night Out to let them know we would miss them. She said how much she missed being with everyone every week. She said how glad she was that she could still do her calling.

We talked about how inspired Bishop Lee was to suggest that option for her. I told her I didn’t think any other ward in the whole church had someone doing what she did. She beamed and said she knew Heavenly Father knew how much she loved to help.

Last Sunday our ward met again for sacrament meeting. Flora excitedly came to the stand and asked me about the songs. She looked so happy.

Then the opening song was announced and Flora, with grace and dignity, stood and reverently walked to her cherished post. She beamed.

I couldn’t stop watching her as I played. Her absolute commitment to her calling and determination to serve the Lord touches me so much. Also, knowing that our bishop cared so much about Flora that he found a way for her to serve in a way she felt was meaningful testified how impactful little things can be in people’s lives.

During those moments of watching Flora serve with such love and happiness reminded me that we are in the hands of the Lord and He blesses our lives with the things we need. Flora needs that calling. I need Flora.

Going Three Hours Early to Get a Seat and a Parking Spot

My all-time favorite memory with Flora was the day Elder Jeffrey R. Holland and Sister Patricia Holland spoke at our stake conference. I tend to get to church buildings really early on those kind of days. I had no idea what to expect as far as other people’s plans, but know that parking can be tricky for stake conference anyway and expected a lot of people to go early.

I called Flora to see if she wanted to ride with me to stake conference and said I wanted to get there around 7:00 a.m. The meeting was at 10:00. She instantly said she would (she doesn’t usually like getting up early, as I mentioned before). She wanted to sit right in front of the pulpit so she could hear and understand Elder Holland’s talk.

So I picked her up at 6:30 a.m. and we drove to our stake center in Waipahu. The parking lot was almost completely empty. We laughed hysterically about the emptiness and then hurried into the chapel to get her perfect seat. She sat rows away from Elder Holland and directly in front of the pulpit. She told me she heard and understood every word of his talk. Our souls were so filled that day.

She shared the sweetest testimony on Facebook on the pictures I posted. Our prophet has asked us to identify how we #HearHim and I want to record this particular time when Flora did, quoting her own post.

My post: My good friend Flora and I REALLY wanted to get a parking space and a good seat for today’s stake conference with Elder Jeffrey R. Holland!!! 3 hours before was early enough.

 

Flora’s posts: Man. Im sooo proud and its was worth it. the Stake Conference. Elder and Sister Holland did very Awesome Job. i was. like wow. hes knows everything. of life. what other church must do and get it. done. I always get into Trouble. of myself.

 

That’s my vehicle in the parking lot at 7AM

Well i have and need to go. because our Heavenly Father Jesus Christ and Holy Ghost. Whisper my ears 2 times. before that. I was going Craft Fairs. in Ala Moana. but. Holy Ghost whisper my ears. to hear. Sister and Elder Holland. good strong best Testimony. of the Gospel. so Delisa Bushman Hargrove. is da best kind friendly ask me if i need a ride. i was going catch the bus. and after that. whisper my ears again. go catch a ride with Delisa. i went get up. 4:40am. to kill time to ride with her. im glad me and Delisa went early to get good spot of early Parking and im glad i got good front seat to see him. give a good Testimony. Talk. im happy n proud.

Let Your Light Shine

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.

Delisa Hargrove

I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have moved 64 times and have not tired of experiencing this beautiful earth! I love the people, languages, histories/anthropologies, & especially religious cultures of the world. My life long passion is the study & searching out of religious symbolism, specifically related to ancient & modern temples. My husband Anthony and I love our bulldog Stig, adventures, traveling, movies, motorcycling, and time with friends and family.

Boredom becomes inspiration

A few weeks into COVID quarantine it was time for high school graduation. And I saw so many kids celebrating in ways they never expected. I worried about how the next school year would look, and how they would handle it emotionally.

Several of my teenage friends shared their frustration and concern about the way the world was going. I did my best to encourage them, but my heart still ached for them. This time has been so unpredictable that nothing I said could truly cover what may come.

Then one day I was on Pinterest and saw some beautiful painted rocks. People in my neighborhood often place them along the walking paths, and they are so cheerful! And I felt inspired to start the ‘Painted Rock Project’ in my kitchen. My cousin and I get together weekly to hang out and do crafts, so I went to Lowe’s and got 60 pounds of river rocks and brought them home.

The painting begins

The kitchen table covered with rocks in various stages of “done”.

I have a ton of acrylic paint and paint brushes, so we were in a good place to start painting. We decided early that we wanted every message to be uplifting and encouraging. Kids are hard enough on themselves without our project giving them more stress.

I contacted the local High School and Jr. High and asked the Principals for permission to deliver the rocks when they were done. I was surprised by how positive and excited they were at the prospect.

In fact, one of them joked that they would appreciate uplifting messages in their office too. So I started looking for something that could really lift someone working in a hard situation.

It also made me realized that even though I had been focusing on the kids, that the teachers would need encouragement too. So I painted some special rocks and set them aside to truly help lift the whole school. Knowing I was going to make a difference motivated me to keep going even when it felt tedious.

Six weeks of growth

The rocks started to take over the kitchen!

So, for 6 weeks I sat at my kitchen table and painted. Honestly, it was a great chance for me to listen to Audible and catch up on some reading I had wanted to do.

The time went so quickly that 6 weeks felt like 6 days. And when we were done, we had an amazing collection of positive rocks. I have felt the power of them just sitting and looking at their messages.

I felt the Lord blessing me as I tried to bless others. In a very real and personal way this painting project is something I will never forget. I started choosing better entertainment.

The books I listened to were uplifting. The TV shows were positive. I naturally wanted to continue the joyful feelings of growth that the great rock painting project were creating in my heart.

Seeing these messages of hope and love every day blessed me.

I felt my soul growing. And my cousin and I had wonderful conversations as we worked together. I felt more patient with my family. And when the rocks began to dwindle in the “to do” pile, I found I wanted to paint more.

In fact I am still missing the painting process. It’s funny because something I dreaded (quarantine) became such a blessing. I love how the Lord does that for us when we are willing to serve Him.

I’ll miss creating painted rocks

I am so eager to deliver these painted rocks and see how the schools display them. I’m honestly not familiar with the campuses, and that’s why I have chosen to let the schools take care of any placement. They will know best where kids gather and where the foot traffic is.

To read more of Abby’s articles in her Living in Harmony column, click here.

And we all know that schools are a place where you always want the leadership on your side. Otherwise these rocks could have been tossed when they were found. You never know.

This has been such a great project for me. I feel like the Lord blessed me more than I expected. I love painting and the finished products were reward enough for me. But He granted me peace, growth, and happiness as this painted rock project took shape.

I love how God works that way in everything He asks us to do. So if you have a chance to serve, do it. The Lord will make it so worth your while that by the end of the experience you will be blessed as much or more than those you are serving.

Abby Christianson

Abby is capable and caring. She is learning more about Autism and parenthood every day. Having completed training to be an RBT (Registered Behavior Technician) for ABA therapy she is beginning to understand her son. And even though she is the first to admit she makes a lot of mistakes, she is so grateful to be on this journey. She comes from a family with many autistic members. She invites us to join her, as she shares her adventures. She wishes to emphasize that Autism is a difference not a defect. If you or a family member have autism, Abby wants you to know that the challenges can be overcome, and there are blessings in autism. You or your loved one are not sick or broken. Together we will teach the world this new language.

During our 43 and a half years of marriage, we’ve made an annual trip to Idaho to see loved ones. Our youngest daughter and her husband live there now, so we continue the trek. There are fences now. Little by little through the years, fences appeared. I remember one particular fence that went up with a gate between two yards so that the children had easy access to their friends.

Idaho is still beautiful and, frankly, one of my favorite places. It isn’t quite the same as it was when I first saw it, though. I miss the wide, open spaces right in the middle of the towns. I miss the feeling of togetherness and community. Some of the friendliest people I’ve ever met, I met in Idaho. Now that there are fences, however, that sense of neighborhood community isn’t quite the same.

Why do we put up fences? We tell ourselves it is because we like our privacy. We like to keep our personal property safe and secure. We want to protect our children. There are lots of reasons we put up fences.

There are other fences we build. We build imaginary fences around ourselves—you know, to protect our self-esteem. We build fences to protect us from having to confide in our neighbors. Some fences keep us from being compared to others. Some help us to be alone in our misery. Other fences protect us from having to explain our quirkiness or to be scrutinized by others.

Fences can be a good thing when we need a private moment. Too many fences, though, can stifle a sense of community, keep us in the dark, and prevent us from living up to our full potential. Fences are built to keep people out. How can we develop relationships and love for others through a fence? How can missionary work progress through a fence? How can we spiritually progress without the help of others? How can we minister?

If it seems impossible to rip out your fence, consider cutting down a portion and building an unlocked gate. That will allow you to keep a portion of your privacy and still be accessible to others. That’s the first step. The next step is to voluntarily walk through the gate on a regular basis and meet those on the other side. Learn to love your neighbor, one day at a time. Baby steps. We are all progressing by baby steps—and that’s okay as long as we keep putting one foot in front of the other. We will eventually get there.

To read more of Tudie’s articles, click here.

Ponder about the fences in your life and how you can remove them. Pray about it. Be humble. Let Heavenly Father work through you to achieve His purposes. It’s all voluntary. He will not force you to do it. That is not His nature. You must be willing to break down the fence on your own.

Those of us who are introverts have trouble ripping out our fences. I’ve found that with every board ripped from my personal fence comes a blessing. Isn’t that the way it always works? As we progress spiritually, there are always unexpected blessings.

I hope during this current worldwide pandemic that we are not increasing the number of our fences. The longer we are shut in, the easier it gets to be lazy in our relationships. Please take a few moments out of your day to ponder how to enrich your relationships. Do you have boards that need to be removed from your fence? Don’t anchor your personal fence in cement. Whatever fences you own, make them easy to dismantle. As you remove each board, let it stand as a testimony of your willingness to love and serve others.

Tudie Rose

Tudie Rose is a mother of four and grandmother of ten in Sacramento, California. You can find her on Twitter as @TudieRose. She blogs as Tudie Rose at http://potrackrose.wordpress.com. She has written articles for Familius. You will find a Tudie Rose essay in Lessons from My Parents, Michele Robbins, Familius 2013, at http://www.familius.com/lessons-from-my-parents.

As the events unfold, like a slow-motion, global train wreck, it can be hard to look away. And why would we look away? These are real events, right? These wars and riots and pandemics and debates and studies and policies — these have far-reaching consequences. We need to be good global citizens and stay informed, right? We need to stay attentive — involved, even. Perhaps we should even try to lead.

When the world seems like a whirlwind, or the earth seems like an earthquake, where can we look for help? Where can we find peace? Where is God? Amazingly, the scriptures have an example of just this situation.

In the Book of Kings, the prophet Elijah looked for God in the whirlwind:

“Behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake: And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice. And it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and stood in the entering in of the cave” (1 Kings 19:11-13).

The prophet Elijah found the voice of the Lord only after the fire was gone and the earthquake was over. Only when he was still and things were quiet could he hear the Holy Spirit.

The cacophony of the world offers a myriad of reasons to be afraid, to be distracted and to be angry. It all seems so urgent. It all seems so unparalleled. But it isn’t unparalleled. Gordon B. Hinckley spoke about a very similar situation in the April General Conference of 1964. In 1964, the President of the United States had just been assassinated. Congress was a tumult of opinions about the Civil Rights Act. The Soviet Union had nuclear weapons and was winning the Space Race. Things were in commotion. Big time. Here’s what Elder Hinckley had to say:

“The word of God … has come to us, not with trumpets, not from the council halls of the learned but in the still small voice of revelation. Listening to those who seek in vain to find wisdom and who declaim loudly their nostrums for the ills of the world, one is prone to reply with the Psalmist, ‘Be still, and know that I am God’ (Ps. 46:10).”

If Twitter existed in 1964, it would have been a hurricane of excitation, accusation, blame, shame and name-calling. But they didn’t have social media or a 24-hour news cycle in 1964. Have these new media helped us get closer to God? Or do they distract us?

President Russell M. Nelson said:

“We live in a world that is complex and increasingly contentious. The constant availability of social media and a 24-hour news cycle bombard us with relentless messages. If we are to have any hope of sifting through the myriad of voices and the philosophies of men that attack truth, we must learn to receive revelation.” 

The headlines and commentary online is like a great and spacious building, hovering over the ground with real no foundation. Onlookers can be mesmerized by its glitter and flash. Billions of people crane their necks to gaze unceasingly at the cloud of swirling controversy, like Eve gazing harmlessly at the fruit. The cold, rough iron rod is so drab, so banal, so ordinary. Not like the Great and Spacious Drama — with a million salacious plot lines and dark emotions. Without even knowing it, without meaning to, they’ve let go of the rod, totally caught up in the thrall.

The beauty of the iron rod is its banality. The word of God is so ordinary, so obvious, so personal, and so simple. You don’t need a PhD to interpret it and you don’t need a project manager to carry it out. Anyone anywhere can follow the commandments, without any great organizing. The word of God is very personal.

The “relentless messages” of the whirlwind are anything but personal. They are the devil’s perfect perversion of God’s word. Instead of being close, they are distant. Instead of being specific, they are general. Instead of being spiritual, they are worldly. Instead of being personal, they are impersonal. The great and spacious building is so big and important, it doesn’t even touch the earth. The rolling controversies we subscribe to are so big and important, they can’t ever touch our heart.

We can take wisdom from the rabbi who was asked: “Why doesn’t God reveal Himself and speak to us like He did in ancient times?” The rabbi replied: “Because no one is left who will bow low enough.”

Joseph Smith Jr. taught:

“The Lord cannot always be known by the thunder of His voice, by the display of His glory or by the manifestation of His power, and those that are the most anxious to see these things, are the least prepared to meet them . . . We would say to the brethren, seek to know God in your closets.”

God is low. The gospel is found in simple, personal, modest and ordinary ways. The Holy Ghost speaks to us about the little things — in our closets, in our gardens, in small acts of kindness to our siblings and spouses.

Do we drift off to sleep with an echo chamber of the day’s worries in our heads? Do we lie on the pillow and replay commentary or outrages we witnessed online that day? Praying before we sleep is supposed to focus us. Reverting right back to the latest indignation du jour defeats the whole purpose of praying before we lie down to sleep.

When His followers came to Him with what seemed like real problems, Christ pointed them to the lillies: “Consider the lillies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin.” God’s glorious creation blooms eternal. Outside. Away from our screens. The trees grow green and the rains keep nourishing the earth, oblivious to the self-important “relentless messages” of doom and gloom, anger and outrage, blaring around them.

If we search for God in the whirlwinds of the world, we’ll never find Him. If we search in the causes and movements that shake the earth, we won’t find Him. If we seek him in the flames of outrage and indignation, no matter how justified our outrage feels, we will never find God. God moves the world through individuals and with whispers, not with loudspeakers. The world today needs less grandstanding and more gardening, less cynicism and more cycling, fewer presentations and more prayer.

 “Much of what appears in your various social media feeds is distorted, if not fake,” President Nelson warned. He encouraged the youth and women of the Church to fast from social media. Stop looking up in the sky for God. Instead, bow low.

The ultimate example of “lowliness” is the King of Kings, Jesus Christ. If we want to “lead” during these times of tumult, we should lead like Christ led. He comforted beggars and children. He led no marches. He founded no non-profits and wrote no speeches. He paused to speak with lepers, cripples, fig trees and to draw in the dirt. He was a “low” man. His message was dangerously personal, uncomfortably direct and pitifully simple: “blessed are the peacemakers,” “blessed are the meek,” “be still,” and “be of good cheer.”

The Holy Spirit is strongest when we work on things near to us, like a leaky faucet, a weedy patch on the lawn, a family member who needs a phone call, a neighbor who needs some cookies, or a rose that needs smelling. If we unplug, hold to the rod, bow low enough, and be still, we will find God no matter what whirlwind swirls around us.

Jonah Barnes

Jonah Barnes is the author of Turning Little Hearts – Over 90 Activities to Connect Children with Their Ancestors. In addition to running a wholesale bakery, he enjoys doing family history, gardening, music, and caring for his six children and a flock of chickens. To learn more about Jonah and his work, check out his website, www.turninglittlehearts.com!

Before this whole floor-cleaning thing had begun, I was determined to do it myself. I wouldn’t let another person clean up after me because that would be weird. However, a confident, determined, and calm man assured me that I shouldn’t block him from blessings. That sentiment really caused me to pause and think. 

Was I actually preventing others in my life from receiving blessings because I wasn’t willing to accept help? It was as though the Spirit slapped me across the face. Yes, I was being stubborn! Not just in that moment, but in several moments. Even when I really needed help over the past year, for a moment I could remember several times when I had completely denied people the chance to serve or be kind. 

This led me to think of times when I had with sincerity approached friends or family members to help them in some small way. Some had allowed me to do so and it had really made my day brighter. Others followed my own pattern of behavior and stood in the way of those moments. I can understand the latter better than I care to admit, but switching roles was eye-opening for me. 

I invite you to stop and take an inventory as well. When was the last time someone complimented or served you? How did you react? Did you say thank you? Did you brush off their comment and say something good about them? What about when someone did something nice for you like sending a gift or participating in an act of service? What was your response then? 

Then-President Dieter F. Uchtdorf addressed this very topic in a Christmas devotional once. He talked about how good at receiving gifts children can be. They just eat them up and thank you so warmly and genuinely. He said:

“As we get older, however, our ability to receive gifts with the same enthusiasm and grace seems to diminish. Sometimes people even get to the point where they can’t receive a gift or, for that matter, even a compliment without embarrassment or feelings of indebtedness. They mistakenly think that the only acceptable way to respond to receiving a gift is by giving back something of even greater value. Others simply fail to see the significance of a gift—focusing only on its outward appearance or its value and ignoring the deep meaning it has to the sincere giver” (Dieter F. Uchtdorf, “The Good and Grateful Receiver,” December 2012 Christmas Devotional).

To read more of Ashley’s articles, click here.

I believe that Elder Uchtorf is right: it does take grace to accept gifts, as well as remembering the focus of the giver. Since that moment, I have been trying to repent. There are times when I am better at it than others, but I have a renewed desire to receive compliments, gifts, etc. with more dignity and grace, and then to pay it forward in a different way on a different day either to that person or someone else. 

After all, Elder Uchtdorf further reminds us:

“Every gift that is offered to us—especially a gift that comes from the heart—is an opportunity to build or strengthen a bond of love. When we are good and grateful receivers, we open a door to deepen our relationship with the giver of the gift. But when we fail to appreciate or even reject a gift, we not only hurt those who extend themselves to us, but in some way we harm ourselves as well.” 

Don’t we want to live surrounded by others in a strengthened bond of love? Don’t we desire to have deeper relationships, and to help and bless others rather than to hurt or cause pain? I believe that as we practice receiving kindness with grace, we can have all of those gifts that Elder Uchtdorf mentioned. We can one day be the person scrubbing the floor with a smile on our face.

Ashley Dewey

Ashley Dewey is extremely talented at being single. Hobbies include awkward conversations with members of the opposite sex, repelling third dates, talking to boys about their girl problems and to girls about their boy problems. In her spare time she also has a very fulfilling school life, work life, and social life.

Besides being a professional single, Ashley is also a BYU graduate with a degree in linguistics (Aka word nerd). She enjoys studying other languages, particularly American Sign Language, and finds most all of them fascinating. She is currently pursuing a masters degree in Teaching English as a Second Language.

Ashley works most of the time and has often been accused of being a workaholic. Currently she works full time as a merchandiser and supervisor in a retail store, and part time doing social media work. On her day off she works (really it doesn’t feel like work) in the Provo LDS temple. The only kind of work she finds difficulty focusing on is house work.

Her favorite activities in her free time are reading, writing, creating social experiments, and spending time with great friends and family. Specific activities with those family and friends include: going to concerts, plays, dance recitals, BYU basketball and football games, and watching sports on television.

46 Wherefore, my beloved brethren, if ye have not charity, ye are nothing, for charity never faileth. Wherefore, cleave unto charity, which is the greatest of all, for all things must fail—

 

47 But charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him.

But sometimes it takes the example set by others to wake us up to our often insignificant commitment to true charity as taught by Heavenly Father.

This wakeup call came to me on a quiet Saturday morning in my own backyard. That morning I was up early and walking on my lawn when I thought I heard a bird chirping nearby. I looked around and saw nothing. Then it called again from under my feet. I heard it coming from the window well of my basement! As I peered inside, I saw a little bird — a starling — there.

Evidently, he had flown down into the window well perhaps looking for food or shelter. However, he was unable to fly back out due to the steel bars on the cover. He had inadvertently trapped himself and was chirping for help to get out.

I put on a gardening glove for protection from his beak and removed the window well grate hoping he would fly out. But he was either too afraid or too exhausted to even try. He just cowered in a corner until I picked him up and removed him from his prison.

Once out, I gently threw him up into the air thinking he would fly away. But instead he jumped from my hands and flew downward about twenty feet into the grass. There he laid, not moving. So I picked him up and tried once more to send him on his way, only to see him fall to the grass again. After several more attempts to revive him, I gave up, thinking he had lost too much strength and would shortly die.

Not wanting to view this sad event, I left him alone in the grass to his demise and walked off. But my curiosity got the better of me, and after about fifteen minutes, I returned again to this little starling. There he was. He had not moved an inch. He still looked frightened and lost.

But as I drew near to him, a large red robin flew in over my shoulder and came to rest about a foot in front of the distressed little guy. I looked closely at these two birds to see what would happen. The robin had flown in with a huge worm in his bill. He took several steps toward our needy little friend and before I knew it, he offered him the worm. I stood amazed at how tenderly he held the worm up over the mouth of his new friend. Eagerly the worm was swallowed. They looked at each other for a while after that, and then the robin flew away. It took a few moments, but the little starling started to revive himself. First, he shook his head a little. Then he flexed his wings and jumped into the air and flew away. I can only guess that the worm he received from a friendly robin had been sufficient to nourish him and give him the strength and courage to fly home.

What I observed in this little exchange was truly remarkable. It has taught me a great lesson about true charity. The robin saw a fellow bird in distress. He could have paid no attention to it and gone about on his own path. But rather than think of himself, he answered the call of a creature in distress.

The robin had only one possession in his life: a worm. He could have eaten it himself or perhaps given it to his chicks, but he gave it to a stranger in hopes of helping him. I have asked myself if I would ever be brave or caring enough to part with one of my precious possessions to help a friend in need like this robin? It seemed his only desire was to help a friend in need. His tender gift brought life and hope to a dying bird. Would I be able to do the same if called upon?

The greatest example of this kind of love and sacrifice was set by our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He gave his everything to provide eternal life to all who would keep His commandments.

I simply ask myself now, how much am I willing to give someone in need? I hope and pray this little event will always remind me of true charity. I must always “cleave unto charity,” even as my little robin friend has taught me.

George Domm

George Domm was born and raised in upstate New York around historical LDS sites such as the Hill Cumorah and Palmyra. He was very familiar with the Church long before he was baptized in 1959. Soon after joining, he found himself serving a full-time mission for the Church in Berlin, Germany. That was his first of four missions! George currently lives in American Fork, UT with his wife, Margaret, and busies himself trying to keep up with their 11 children and 42 grandchildren. He loves to do family history and play golf with “all the old men in our neighborhood.” His goal is to one day shoot his age, 74.

As I recall, a woman was relating the story of a family relations class she took in college after she had raised her children. The professor challenged each student to write a “thank you” letter to their mom or dad. He explained that it was important to stretch themselves beyond the “thank you that I was born” phase and really search for the meaningful gifts their parents had provided in their lives. 

The professor talked about how children (from birth to about age 6) simply observe and take in the small world they are part of. We are imprinted with values and beliefs about how “Dads are” or “Moms are” or “children are” when they are incapable of engaging critical thinking or reasoning skills. Then, as we are exposed to the outside world (from 6-13), we add to that initial foundation and begin modeling what we see in our peers, our teachers, etc. By the time we are about 20, we typically “lock in” and pretty much determine the person we are for the rest of our lives. 

He said researchers determined that most people will live out their lives in this frame of mind unless one (or both) of two things happen: 

• We have a significant emotional event that shifts our thinking and impacts our beliefs, values, and behavior, or…
• We make a conscious choice to gain the skills to understand more deeply. A newly internalized value or belief may subsequently change our life choices.

In this article, she related that her father had passed away some years before and that the idea of writing a letter of thanks to him intrigued her. Since they had not always seen eye to eye when she was growing up, it had never occurred to her to thank him.

As she accepted the challenge to stretch herself, she was amazed at how her years of maturing had given her a much deeper perspective about her father. She began recognizing how much he had impacted her values and beliefs.

The article went on to say how profoundly she was impacted by this experience. She realized that every year she was going to write another ‘chapter’ of her thanks. She could now understand that her ability to value her father was directly related to how much she matured as a person and the deeper insights that come with this process of maturing. She understood that the way she experienced her father revealed her development as a person — not his.

“Thank You For the Gift You Are to Me” Letters

The seed of an idea has been germinating in my mind since then. I began realizing how much more meaningful it would be to say “thank you for the gift you are to me” while the person was still alive rather than waiting to share it with others at their funeral.  

This seed came to fruition when my stepsister, Ruby Colleen, came back into my life after nearly 20 years. My father married her mother when I was about 12 years old. Ruby was already a young mother with three children. She was an important, though peripheral, part of my life from that time until I was about 35. It took me several years to mature enough to identify all the many wonderful gifts she had given to me that ultimately encouraged me to consciously choose to change my life.

Once I was reunited with Ruby, we shared a close relationship for another five years until her brush with death in the winter of 2005. During this time, we were inseparable. We made frequent visits to one another’s home and we talked daily on the phone.

We cherished these happy moments together as we both opened our hearts and shared the insights we had gained in our lives. We truly appreciated and celebrated the gift we were to each other. We talked about arranging our lives so we could live closer. We longed to spend endless hours together in the everyday routines of our lives. Although that never actually occurred, we understood that the importance of what we were experiencing could not be diminished by the fact that we lived miles apart.

Years ago I read a wonderful story called Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard. It’s an allegory about Much Afraid who longs to escape the Village of Much Trembling in the Valley of Humiliation where she lives with her old maid aunt, Aunt Dismal Forebodings. As she strives to follow the Good Shepherd, she is constantly harassed by her two Fearing Cousins, Craven and Cowardly. She longs to climb to the Higher Places, where “perfect love casteth out all fear.” Much Afraid decides to journey up the mountain to the Higher Places. The problem is, she’s crippled from all the years she has spent in the Valley. She asks the Good Shepherd how she was going to be able to climb the steep mountain.

The Good Shepherd tells her that her companions on this journey will be Sorrow and Suffering. She is disappointed because she wants to travel with Peace and Joy. The Good Shepherd promises her that as long as she holds onto the hands of her companions, she will be able to climb. However, should she let go of their hands, her cousins Craven and Cowardly will try to pull her off the mountain. 

Each time she lets go, stumbles, and falls, the Good Shepherd comes to love, teach, comfort, and encourage her. He instructs her to select a small stone and place it in her pouch each time she stumbles and falls. By the time she nears the top of the mountain, her pouch is filled to overflowing and seems an unbearable burden. These stones represent all the hard learning experiences she has endured. 

When she finally gets to the top of the mountain and the home of the Good Shepherd, he invites her to open her heavy pouch. Instead of stones, she discovers each one has been transformed into a priceless jewel of learning. 

Letting Others Know They Have Touched Our Lives

To read more of Sonja’s articles, click here.

As a personal development coach and trainer, if I was ever to create a workshop, I would love to help people unlock the repository of their hearts and celebrate all the gifts in their lives. Our awareness of the value of each of our lives is enriched as we gain the comprehension of how our life meaningfully touched the lives of others. 

Much of the richness of life comes from looking back as we reach our mature years. It seems from birth to about the age of 55 or 60, we are preoccupied with the business of living and just getting through the day. The joy of maturity is having the time — no… taking the time — to assess the treasures we have accumulated along the way. 

The following are the events surrounding my first effort in sharing my gratitude to one of my greatest teachers, my stepsister, Ruby. In the winter of 2005, Ruby collapsed with Sudden Adult Death Syndrome (SADS) while shopping. The ambulance rushed her to the hospital although she had no vital signs. At the hospital they were able to revive her. Her quality of life plummeted at that point and she often expressed that she wished they hadn’t been able to revive her.  As we spoke of her impending death, which happened soon after, Ruby wanted me to know I could express myself at her memorial services any way I wanted to. I knew I wanted to share with the rest of the family how much we treasured our friendship. I wanted the rest of the family to understand the person I experienced her to be.

At Ruby’s memorial service in April 2006 (it happened some months later due to the family being widespread), as I spoke, I encouraged everyone to take the time to share with each other the gifts they are in your life. Don’t wait until the funeral to reflect on the value they are to each other.

After I returned home from the memorial, I realized that there were so many things I had left unspoken. Part 2 is the letter to the family that I wrote after the memorial and finally, Part 3 is my memorial to Ruby. Both will be published in the coming weeks.

I am grateful I took the opportunity to personally share my gratitude with Ruby in the years just preceding her death.  

In the years since then, I have determined to write “The Gift You Are To Me” letters to my parents that have passed, my siblings, my friends, and especially to my sons, granddaughters, and great-grandchildren. So far I’ve only written to my oldest brother and a friend that was a strength to me when I was a single mom (and in all the years since). I cannot emphasize enough my hope that reading these posts will inspire others to consider the value of writing these letters to their loved ones — especially while they are still living.  

Sonja Hopkins

Sonja lives with her husband, Dale, on Anderson Island, Washington. She and her husband are Church Service Missionaries serving in the Addiction Recovery Program, focusing on pornography and sex addiction. She is also a certified life coach and teaches “Life Skills for Emotional Self-Mastery” in her stake twice a month. She does not teach you only to process something traumatic done to you in the past; rather, she helps you learn to feel it, heal it, and LET GO of whatever you still do to yourself and to others in order to cope with what was done to you in the past.