My son, be faithful in Christ; and may not the things which I have written grieve thee, to weigh thee down unto death; but may Christ lift thee up, and may the showing of his body unto our fathers, and his mercy and long-suffering, and the hope of his glory and of eternal life, rest in your mind forever.
Moroni 9:25
I really love this video. I like how they convey music transporting them to another time, and experiencing the same feelings as the shepherds and wise men. “May Christ lift thee up.”
This December, my Advent theme is Hope. It’s my plan to share something each day leading up to Christmas. Today, I share one of my favorite stories of a person who brought hope to others.
Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God.
This December, my Advent theme is Hope. It’s my plan to share something each day leading up to Christmas. Today, I want to share something Daniel showed me that is hopeful and happy. Remember those feelings?
Therefore, my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth: my flesh also shall rest in hope.
This December, my Advent theme is Hope. It’s my plan to share something each day leading up to Christmas. Today, I share a scripture and a beautiful piece of music.
Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.
This was the week Richard went on a scuba diving trip, the boys played their piano concertos to an audience of two, and our tree erupted into every autumn color. Paige and Michael helped harvest the last apples before the frost. Mark took up baking again, and I started playing Christmas songs on my violin in earnest.
This piece came to my mind this week during a time of complexity. The descending notes during the phrase, “Thy will be done” make me think of our Father’s care descending upon His children.
We were able to move my grandmother to Utah this week and we have experienced miracles in each step.
I have done some work in the family’s bedrooms this week, and this video speaks to the feelings I have as I watch my children’s rooms change as they grow and leave home.
Seven months ago, before the pandemic impacted our lives, I had an idea to create an emotional tool kit, with physical objects to inspire and comfort. I wrote down a list on a post-it note, and began to move the note in my day planner, putting it off for another time. Maybe I was in denial. “Oh, I won’t need this,” or, “If I make it, something will happen that will make me need this.”
Then came new levels of isolation, earthquakes, uncertainty about the evacuation of missionaries, challenges from distance learning in schools, canceled plans, discomfort and disfigurement from abdominal surgery, and the secluded hospital stay. And so on.
I have been comforted, even without my little tool kit, no doubt about that. Still, this week, I remembered that I hadn’t compiled it, and decided it was time. It wasn’t difficult. I gathered things into an old hat box and slid it beneath my bed. Who knows if I will ever use it as I envision I might. If nothing else, it is a time capsule, and a reminder of my faith that comfort can be found in Christ, always.
The objects are small and have personal meaning. Some things are soft; others spur memories; on the bottom of the box are the scripture notes I have taken this year, which follow my 2020 spiritual journey even better than my journal. I tucked in a Michael Buble album that I love.
At times, everyone needs reminders that things are going to be okay.
If you are doing well, share your energy with others. If you are doing poorly, consider handling some physical reminders that Heavenly Father loves you and sent His Son for you. Allow the Spirit to bring joyful things to your remembrance. (John 14:26)
The Yard Crew, summer 2020They got so tan this summer.
This week, I picked up a few things at the store to add to the “college set” of dishes and silverware passed down from Paige to Daniel. (Where did all the teaspoons go???) I can’t think of much I should do to help him, but the impulse is to think about details such as, “Oh, he is going to need some spices!” The truth is, he grew up long ago, in South America, and he can navigate the spice aisles in Provo, Utah just fine without me.
I remember this ache. I have felt it before. Each child’s imprint is different, so the the ache for each child has its own quality. It’s terrible and precious at the same time. I don’t know why I am not thinking about Covid-19 tonight. I suppose it could spoil university plans very quickly, but we’ll deal with whatever comes.
I have kept the twinkle lights in our windows since Christmas time, one of the best purchases I ever made. Slowly, I pick up projects again, and watch some movies in the long afternoons. Embroidery, simple coloring projects, and reading are also ways I pass the time, and it’s better when someone plays the piano in the background. The pianist in the video is Timothy. This scene is one of my versions of heaven.
I awake to morning light dancing through the leaves of trees. I end the day with small lights against dark sky, all good things.
I follow Geoffrey Walker’s Instagram account because of the way he delights in his wife’s sewing projects. This man is so good-natured and happy. Pauline is his sweetheart and he often says, “I love that girl!” They post snippets of a simple life, full of love and faith.
I follow this Instagram account because this father daughter duo is talented and loving.
