Author: Angela

I write so my family will always have letters from home.

Mark

We are at the phase where Mark has a pretty full life unaccompanied by me, but I have ways of staying current with his activities.

Recently, Mark’s friend made a 50 day countdown to graduation video. I took a screenshot of Mark from the reel because it shows him in his weightlifting class which is one of his favorites.

Here is Mark with his calculus class celebrating Mr. Newbold being named teacher of the year. Mark is doing great in this class.

During spring break, he stayed with my parents and spent a lot of time with cousins. He was most excited to tell me about all of the stumps he helped remove from my parents’ gardens.

He is working hard to prepare for his senior piano recital, and lucky me, I get to hear him practice a wide range of repertoire each day, including works from Chopin, Joplin, Scarlatti, Mendelssohn, and Sinding, plus hymn arrangements. Here he is accompanying a violinist. He’s a fantastic musician.

Richard and I had a flight during the Saturday evening session of general conference so we weren’t home to view it. When we walked in the door, it was clear that Tim and Mark had been watching conference together because this traditional block tower was sitting in the middle of the room. Mark has built one during each conference for years. Yes, this is just a simple block tower, but on that night, it was a symbol of his commitment and his testimony.

I am so happy to be Mark’s mom.

15

This weekend marks 15 years of writing this blog, and I’m taking a minute to celebrate this personal accomplishment. I have written steadily during these years and produced more than 2,300 posts.

There are periods when I get tired of blogging, and I have planned my exit so many times. If you see a post called, “So long, farewell,” you will know that I no longer feel the call to share. ✌️

I am insecure about my content all of the time. It would be easier to keep my words in a personal journal, but that isn’t the point. You are the point. You are the intended audience. Writing this blog is my version of placing a note in a bottle and throwing it into the ocean to see who will find it. I hope that you find something joyful here.

By the way

One morning last week, my second counselor and I made a visit to a ward Primary leader. We were with her for about a half an hour and I shared a scripture and we prayed together before we said goodbye. As we walked to the car, I was feeling good until we saw the dog.

This large, unleashed dog saw us at the same moment that we saw him and he charged toward us to greet us. I have childhood trauma from mean dogs, and I never want to see a large dog running toward me, friendly or not. So, I was definitely not at my best when I saw this happy? savage? dog running straight for us. “I don’t like anything about this,” I said, and Barbara tried to divert the dog’s attention from me. (Bless her.)

But the owner of the dog was also there, unseen on his skateboard in the street. He ran over to fetch his friendly dog. Still, I hadn’t started breathing yet, and the fight-or-flight chemicals in my veins definitely continued to react.

But then I really looked at the young man. I recognized him! He had been on Tim’s ultimate Frisbee team before the pandemic. And in that moment I knew that I needed to be a friend to him.

I began where I was, flustered, not quite myself, and said, “I know you!”

And suddenly, I remembered his name, and then we were having a surprisingly vulnerable conversation about church. Church!

When he said he wasn’t part of our church, the words, “That’s just fine, we love you all,” came out of my mouth. The young man swept back his hair and we talked for a few more minutes.

“Did I just tell this young man that we loved him?” was the shaming thought that came to my mind as we left the scene. But as more hours and days have passed, I have realized that the words I spoke were really not my own. I also remembered that some of my favorite stories of Jesus happened during unexpected meetings. The woman with an issue of blood was not his original focus or destination, and neither was the Samaritan woman, but these “scenes by the wayside” show his disciples the perfect pattern:

Take time to talk to someone. Be real. Offer hope. Share love. The people you meet by the wayside might just be the ones you are meant to talk to that day.

Ward conferences report

This is my view as I think about my experiences over the past few months. Paige’s watercolors are on one wall. The large canvas print is one I ordered from the Church History Museum gift shop.

We finished a very intense ward conference season on Sunday and I feel a mixture of emotions. As stake Primary president, I have had speaking assignments, teaching opportunities, and ministering visits which have taken my energy and some of my health (cold and flu season stuff), but I miraculously rallied each weekend thanks to the prayers of good friends.

I have felt the love of God for his children, and Primary children in every ward were well behaved and anxious to participate. I have seen a leap in their knowledge and understanding during the past few years because families are teaching them from the scriptures at home. The Come Follow Me program has amazing results!

The passing of my first counselor Anne’s husband in the midst of these conferences has been a source of deep sadness. These words from the Book of Mormon are true of my inspired and faithful presidency, “But behold, they have received many wounds; nevertheless, they stand fast.” (Alma 58:40)

Here are some words from the song that I taught in each Primary that summarize my thoughts, “I know He lives, I will follow faithfully, my heart I give to him, I know that my Savior loves me.”

I enjoyed this devotional.

The chapel where I watched this devotional had fewer than 50 women in the room. I think many women stayed home to watch online, which is understandable and good. I decided to celebrate Relief Society with my church sisters, and it was a sweet experience.

I keep thinking how much I have grown under the mentorship of President Russell M. Nelson.

He has guided my development in many spiritual skills to make me a better disciple of Christ. Tonight as I listened to him speak, I wrote in the margin of my notebook that he is a friend to women. He is a true friend to me.