The Prodigal Son- First Chapter

Chapter 1
15 Years Ago

Sarah wiped her eyes as tears began to blur her vision. It had been one of those days when her life just seemed all wrong. She wasn’t sure how much more whining three-year-old and colicky baby she could take.
The problems and tension started the night before, with a fight, actually. She couldn’t remember now how the argument started, but it hadn’t fizzled out until almost two o’clock in the morning, when Jordan silently took his pillow and headed for the couch. Sarah slammed the bedroom door in response and glared at it until retrieving Adam from his crib to be fed at three. She’d calmed down enough by then to lie down and snuggle close, falling asleep while he nursed.
Now, the day that started badly was just getting worse. The sound of breaking glass brought her running to the kitchen to find jam smeared all over the cabinets and counter from Michael’s adventure while she was occupied feeding Adam. The shattered jar and its contents added to the chaos in the middle of the carpeted kitchen floor, and in her mind. Sarah had no idea how she was supposed to get it cleaned up. If she didn’t, their landlord was not going to be happy. But really—who in their right mind would put industrial carpeting in a kitchen in the first place?
Adam promptly threw up all over her as she jostled him a bit too hard while yelling at Michael for making the sticky mess.
Everyone was crying when the phone rang, and Jordan informed her that he would be home late. His voice was cold and he hadn’t even bothered to ask how her day was going before adding to her difficulties. More than anything right now, she could use a listening ear while she vented about her frustrations, but he couldn’t even be counted on to come home and help her at the end of the day.
In desperation, Sarah looked around at the mess in the kitchen and the mess she’d made of her family. She didn’t know where to begin, and she didn’t think she had the energy. After a sleepless night and a lousy day, she’d had enough. Sarah threw a sweatshirt over the wet puke stain on her shirt, put jackets on the boys, and ran from the house. She just wanted to escape.
Now here she was, still crying. Adam also still cried from his place on her hip as she stood and watched Michael run from one end of the playground to the other. At least he was happier again.
Sarah missed Utah—she missed her friends, her sisters, and her mother, who always seemed to put moments like these in perspective. It had been extremely hard on her to move to Arizona eight months ago. She wanted to support Jordan as he began his new job, but leaving her family behind had been difficult. They supported her, eased her burdens, and helped her remember why her roles as a wife, and especially as a mother, were so important.
She loved her children—she did. But she couldn’t help wondering why they tested that love to the limits every day. Sarah wiped away another tear and mentally scolded herself for her attitude. Maybe they aren’t pushing limits, she thought. Maybe they were just normal and she wasn’t cut out to be a mother. She wished she could run away and leave the jam-covered kitchen and her children behind. Even for just a day.
Her gaze wandered while she was feeling sorry for herself. Now, Sarah looked back up to see Michael shrieking with glee as he rocketed down the slide. He landed with such force that his knees buckled out from under him. His head went back, smacking the edge of the metal slide with a loud ka-chunk. In the instant it took Sarah to register what she was seeing, blood began to pour from the back of Michael’s head. It formed a wet, gruesome mess as it spread and mixed with the sand where he lay crumpled at the base of the slide.
Screaming Michael’s name, Sarah hastily set a still-distraught Adam in his stroller and joined the throng of panicked mothers running toward her disoriented son. Someone had the presence of mind to call the paramedics as Sarah frantically pressed Adam’s spit rag to the back of Michael’s head.
The experience began to feel like a dreamy blur. It could have been just minutes, but the tension made it feel like hours. After the paramedics arrived and assured her Michael would be all right, she stood and looked at her surroundings again. Something filled her with unease.
Time warped again, creating an eternity of dread as she began to comprehend what was still wrong with her world.
Adam was no longer crying, and his stroller was gone.
Her vision began to blur all over again, darker than ever, and she heard herself scream his name. It was silly, really. He was only four months old. How is he supposed to answer me? Yet, what else could she do? He had to be somewhere—he couldn’t just be gone. A baby couldn’t just go off on his own, so Sarah needed him to answer.
She began to go through all the possible scenarios.
Maybe his stroller rolled.
Maybe one of the paramedics or other mothers bumped it when they were running to help with Michael.
Maybe someone noticed Adam crying and was trying to comfort him.
“Adam!” she yelled again. Sarah’s thoughts changed to more terrifying possibilities that caused her voice to choke as she forced the word through one more time. “Adam!”
He can’t be gone! I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to him.
Sarah continued to look around, her eyes becoming wild with panic, the questions still jumbling up in her mind. Where can he be?
If someone did bump the stroller, where would it roll? If it did roll, why can’t I see it off in the distance? This is Arizona, for heaven’s sake—there aren’t that many trees and bushes to hide behind!
She began to run with weak legs and heavy feet. She stumbled over the slightest change in terrain, feeling sluggish and clumsy. Her thoughts became more urgent. Not fast enough. She wasn’t moving fast enough to reach him, wherever he was. Where is he?
Sarah circled the play area, calling Adam’s name, stopping other mothers she thought she recognized from the slide incident.
“Did you see my baby? Did you see a stroller? I left it right there!”
She tried to think, to give some details, to find some sort of answer. The other mothers gathered around, asking what they could do to help. She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t remember what Adam was wearing. Had she even changed him out of his sleeper that morning? She wasn’t sure.
She pressed through the crowd of women and continued circling the park, asking everyone she met. “A baby, blond hair, gray eyes, he was crying . . . .”
Some of the women remembered the stroller; some hadn’t even noticed it. No one knew where it went. Other people were looking now, asking questions, calling his name, but Sarah hardly noticed. Adam was hers, her responsibility, and she’d lost him. She had to find him.
Desperate now, she looked in every cubbyhole and tiny crevasse—behind the slide, by the swings, in the tire obstacle course, the trench worn around the merry-go-round, the picnic tables, and the park benches. Sarah circled the playground several times, then her gaze fell on the walking trail. It was the only area of the park with trees. There were pockets of shade along the path. Maybe someone took him there. With a burst of energy that seemed to come directly from her breaking heart, she made a beeline for the trail. No longer thinking clearly at all, her brain chanted ‘find him’ in rhythm with every footfall.
Find him.
Find him.
Find him.
The mantra continued as she raced down the path. Reality didn’t hit again until she realized she was back where she had started.
Her lungs were on fire. She was hoarse from yelling. She was exhausted from the shame she felt asking strangers, over and over again, to help her find her most precious possession. Her muscles trembled. Her tears blurred her vision. Her body betrayed her. She should be able to see him, call him, run to him, reach him, gather him in her arms, and wake up from this nightmare.
Why is this happening to me? Am I such a terrible mother that my child would be taken from me like this? Is God punishing me?
Dear Heavenly Father, I didn’t mean it! I’m so sorry I wished I didn’t have them. Please, please bring Adam back to me!
Suddenly, a thought broke through her panic. Two children. She had two children. For the second time that day, she’d abandoned one in order to help the other. Twice in one day, she’d managed to turn her back on what mattered to her most. An irresistible urge to gather Michael up in her arms overtook Sarah’s already taxed emotions. She needed to get back to him—she had to keep him with her. She had to find Adam, but she shouldn’t have left Michael alone with the paramedics to do it. Additional panic welled up inside her as she rushed back to the playground. What if she’d already been gone too long? What if Michael wasn’t there anymore, either? What if she’d lost them both in one fateful afternoon of wishing?
Relief washed over her as she rounded the corner of the walking trail and saw a confused Michael still sitting with one of the paramedics. She gathered him in her arms and sobbed uncontrollably as the first police officer approached her.

******

Want to read more? The Prodigal Son is available on Amazon.com and as an e-book.

I'll Know You By Heart by Kimberly Job

Okay, let me first start off by saying:
Excellent,
Excellent
Book!!

Whew, I’m so glad to have that off of my chest. It’s been bugging me for days. ;)

I’ll Know You By Heart by Kimberly Job is a heart-breaking and heart-healing story of shattered dreams and the miracles that can come from them.

From the back cover:
Is it possible for love to conquer all? I’ll Know You By Heart is a timeless romance that explores the possibility that relationships span the entire realm of eternity—a story about abuse, hardship, and betrayal—ultimately a story about the healing power of everlasting true love.

Sigh.

Let me tell you, it takes a lot for a romance title to earn a sigh of satisfaction from me. I have a very low cheesy-mush tolerance level. ;) The romantic elements of I’ll Know You By Heart are simple, mature and respectful. They strike just the right tone and didn’t have me rolling my eyes. Well, okay, maybe once. . .

Oh, and I also have to mention—I loved the cover. It caught my attention right away. This is one you want to make sure the cover is showing on the store bookshelves. That image alone will entice many a romance reader to pick it up and find out what the pages hold.

Kimberly Job had me from the first page and never let go of my heart until I’d reached the end. But, be forewarned. This may be a difficult story for some to read: it does deal with some very serious and hurtful abuse issues. On the flip-side it could also be a healing experience and a glimpse of hope for those who have found themselves in similar situations.

Did I experience any whinny moments while reading? Eh, not much. I did notice some inconsistencies between the way the abuse was described and the abuse that was shown. But on the whole the descriptions and situations were accurate and true to life. If nothing else, read it for the understanding it can give you. Take note of the way Stephanie acts, what her environment is like, the way she looks. You may know a Stephanie without even realizing it. It’s a situation every woman should be aware of because there is no excuse, none whatsoever, which justifies a Daughter of God being hurt in such a manor.

If you’re a fan of Rachel Ann Nunes and Anita Stansfield, you’re about to become a fan of Kimberly Job. She has a powerful, passionate voice and I expect to see great things from her in the future.

Inspiration For Even Your Down-est Days

My sweet friend Kerry Blair has had so many difficult struggles in recent years. But it's not her courage and strength in those trials that inspires me so much. It's her love. I have never known someone with so much love to give, even when things may seem very, very dark in her own world.

Now, while it pales in comparrison, I've been busy throwing a few pity parties myself. I needed Kerry's wisdom and love to remind me what they are good for, and what they are not good for.

Pop over, read her blog. I promise, you'll feel her love, and the Savior's, as well.

A Note From My Friend Tristi

I ran across this post by my fabulous friend Tristi Pinkston and thought it needed a little extra attention.

Pop on over to her blog and read You Might Just Save A Life. It's something we all need to be a little more aware of in a "take care of me first" world.

Teen Books That I Love

I am an avid children and YA reader when it comes to the national market. I will very rarely venture into the adult fiction section because I know that I can’t trust 95% of what’s over there not to cause my eyeballs to burn right out of their sockets. In contrast, I can trust about 50% of the stuff I pull from the kid and teen sections of the library. It used to be a lot higher than that but the teen stuff has really gone downhill in recent years.

For me, walking into the children’s and teen sections of a library or bookstore is a truly drool worthy exercise in euphoria. Some day I’m going to devise the ultimate scheme which will let me park myself in front of those shelves and never move again.

Ok, I could figure out a way to buy them or check them out, but then I’d have to lug them home. I’m running out of room for books as it is.

I could go on, but suffice it to say that this is one of my favorite places to be. It can only be trumped by my Utah and Arizona trips that find me walking through the door of an LDS bookstore. That’s only because it is a more decadent treat that I can’t get my hands on every day.

So, today I’d like to tell you about a set of thought provoking titles I love. While not LDS, these books manage to deal with serious issues in real world ways without being crude or offensive. Some of these are considered younger than YA, but I’m grouping all teen reads together here. (They’re not in any particular order, I’m just rambling) ;)

Rules by Cynthia Lord

This book deals with autism from the perspective of a teenage sibling rather than the parent. It’s fun, realistic, enlightening and uplifting.

Al Capone Does My Shirts by Gennifer Choldenko

Another autism title from the sibling’s perspective, this one occurs in an era when autism was not understood or even remotely socially acceptable.

The First Part Last by Angela Johnson

This has a little bit of language in it but it’s definitely controllable with your trusty marker. It tells the story of teen pregnancy and parenthood from the teenage father’s perspective. Aside from the obvious, it deals with very serious natural consequences. You get to see how the father mourns for the loss of his carefree life while still stepping up to the plate and sacrificing his desires to give his child the best he can. Yes, most boys never reach that marker of responsibility. This boy didn’t want to either, but he did.

Missing May by Cynthia Rylant

What a sweet look at the mourning process.

Drums, Girls and Dangerous Pie by Jordan Sonnenblick

A heartwarming look at the grief and challenges of leukemia from the older brother’s view point.

The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round Things by Carolyn Mackler

This one does carry a black marker alert (for occasional use only) but if you’ve ever needed to understand the self-esteem issues associated with being overweight this is a good place to start. There is another issue going on here that is pretty serious as well—the older brother is accused of date rape. Unfortunately, both are far more common than my heart wants to admit but this book handles each with more tact and maturity than most of the very worldly YA books on the subject.

Other YA titles with lighter, but still great messages

Deliver Us from Normal by Kate Klise

Ah, bunnies and trying to figure out how to fit in. Kids can be very hard on each other, even cruel. Don’t we all wish we could fix (or escape) that sometimes?

It’s a Mall World After All by Janette Rallison.

Though most would consider this a lighter title, I have to include it because of the main character. Ok, she’s a bit of a flake (most teenagers are) but her basic personality is one who truly loves people. She wants to help and serve them any way she can, even when it’s not popular with her classmates.

The View from Saturday by E. L. Konigsburg

Here are four children who honor their handicapped teacher by winning academic contest.

Donuthead by Sue Stauffacher

Donuthead is one extremely serious and seriously funny little kid who learns to open his heart to an outcast and misunderstood classmate.

Death by Eggplant by Susan Heyboer O'Keefe.

I fell in love with this 8th grade boy who has eccentric parents and wants to be a chef. But, he’s is afraid of the criticism and alienation that might cause among his classmates.

Surviving the Applewhites by Stephanie S. Tolan.

The epitome of eccentricities surround this unschooling family as they invite a wayward and “troubled” teen to join their family and find his way into belonging. Their daughter also learns that unique and different can be a good thing and that everybody has value and a place in a family.

So there you have it, a completely random list of books for older children that I’ve loved reading. I’ll do a list for younger children on down the line, I promise. Right now I think it might be time for another run to the library. . . .

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Unsung Lullaby by Josi S. Kilpack

I would have to say that Josi S. Kilpack’s Unsung Lullaby is my favorite book by her to date. Josi has a no-holds-barred kind of way of addressing some pretty tough issues that face the modern Latter-day Saint. That sensitive but up front style is probably what makes this particular title my favorite. It’s a subject I’m very familiar with.

The back cover captures the whole sentiment of the situation in a nutshell, “But after all the doctors, all the money, and all the prayers, all she had to show for it was a heart full of unsung lullabies.” How I felt for Josi’s Maddie. I found myself totally engrossed in walking this very difficult path with her.

No, I have not had to face the heartbreak of infertility, but many of my friends have. I have watched and listened to their struggles, I’ve tried to cheer and support them as they chose their individual paths searching for answers and solutions. I held hands and wept with others for the tiny babies that were unable to survive. I’ve also mourned with friends when insensitive and hurtful remarks were directed at them from “friends” and leaders both inside and outside of the church. If nothing else, Unsung Lullaby really drives home the message of “judge not, that ye be not judged”. You do not, and can not, know the thoughts, feelings, and desires within someone else’s heart, no matter how well you think you know them. Christ has implored us to love and care for one another, not to show our ignorance by telling others how they should be living the gospel or why certain blessings are being denied them at this place and time.

That’s the most important message for me in Unsung Lullaby. No matter what our path is, no matter what our trials, we are to love and support each other and leave the rest to God. Unsung Lullaby is also very realistic. Infertility isn’t the only challenge facing Matt and Maddie, the main characters in the book. Rather, it is in addition to the problems of every day life and the realities of what “family” can mean in a variety of circumstances. Unsung Lullaby challenges the notion of what’s worth fighting for. I like the balance of realism and sensitivity to the spirit that is present on the pages of this book. I love the way Josi shows many sides of the same story so that no matter what your experiences with infertility and teen pregnancies may be, you can find yourself within the pages of Unsung Lullaby.

Josi does not assume, nor does she try to overtly press her readers into believing that there is only one answer and method available to those who know this kind of pain. She makes it clear that any process or goal of procreation is an act of faith in the Lord and a joint partnership with Him to find the best answers for your particular situation. It is not something that the woman, or family, need to feel alone in. Though, this is often the case. When you’re arms are empty, it is a very lonely place to be. Sadly, having a well meaning friend say, “I know how you feel” often only serves to make things worse. Even if our circumstances are very similar, we can not know another’s heart. That’s another reason I feel Unsung Lullaby is such a great literary blessing: it offers a safe haven, a world outside of your own to either understand a friend’s heartache better, or explore your own without judgment or bias.

In the coming months I’ll touch on a few other titles by Josi Kilpack, including her newest title, due out in September: Her Good Name. Josi is definitely an author worth reading and watching for great things.

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Enjoying the Journey by Jamie Theler with Deborah Talmadge

I have a confession to make. I read a lot of “how-to” books (which frightens my husband a bit, trying to figure out which “how-tos” I might actually try). The “how-to” books that I don’t read are probably the ones that could help me the most. I don’t read “Life is great, this is how to be happy” books. Why? They depress me. Their “simple” steps to happiness are far from simple for me and I come away feeling even worse about how I’m living my life. If what they say is true then obviously it should be easier and I’m getting something major wrong that I can’t seem to fix. Make sense?

I know it’s counterintuitive to everything the gospel teaches but that’s the power of Satan. He knows me well and makes sure I notice how inadequate I am in the face of such “simple” solutions that seem to work for “everyone else”. So that’s the big confession, I don’t read books that might actually be of use to me because I’m too afraid they won’t work and I’m too far gone already.

I love and respect Jamie Theler and Deborah Talmadge, authors of Enjoying the Journey: Steps to Finding Joy Now. When this book came out, I put its title on my reading list because I like to rejoice in my friend’s successes. Sadly, it kept finding its way to the bottom of the list. Even though I knew Jaime was real person with real problems and real outlooks she obviously knew something about this whole life thing that I wasn’t getting. I didn’t want to find out what that was. I didn’t want to have to admit that even though she got it, I couldn’t.

I know that my personal struggles are nothing compared to those many men and women face, but still they are struggles because, well, I struggle with them. Just like many of you, these trials can weigh me down until I switch from enjoyment to survival mode. Sadly, I probably find myself in survival mode much more often than I find myself in enjoyment mode.

Eventually it did happen. I opened the book and began to read and I was bawling before I was half-way through the first chapter. Jaime was describing me and the way I feel when others seem to point out what I’m lacking. Jaime and Deborah weren’t afraid to talk about their own human frailties. They’d tried everything that seemed to work for everybody else and still felt a void. Their answer? We don’t have all the answers for you, but we know where you can get them. We’ll teach you how to ask God and work with Him. He’s the only one who can make things right for you.

I know it sounds weird, but for me that was the most important part of the book- knowing that the people who wrote it honestly understand where I’m coming from. I didn’t feel belittled, incompetent, or talked down to within these pages. They aren’t testifying of their own triumph over huge and seemingly insurmountable trials, just every day things we all face. They are human and understood I am too.

I love the fact that each chapter not only lays it on the line and gives valuable insight but the authors don’t leave it at that. Most of us can read a self-help book and say, “Yeah, that’s what I need to do” but not come away with any realistic idea of how to accomplish it. Enjoying the Journey really wants to help you. Jaime and Deborah not only give you the thoughts and ideas, they give you the simple (yes, really) steps and methods you can use to make it happen in your own life in a practical down-to-earth way.

If you’re humble and open-minded, if you truly desire to make the most out of your time here on earth, there’s great wisdom to be found in Enjoying the Journey. If your like me and can’t figure out how to get a batch of laundry folded, much less establish a house of order, then just plant that first seed of faith. Buy the book; place it on your bedside table where you can see it. One day when you’re feeling brave just take a peek. Just a little one. See if you don’t feel at home within this book’s cover. If you’ll at least try, you’ll begin to figure out where your own joy in the journey can come from.

Join the Neighborhood Newsletter . . . Subscriptions are free and joining is easy. Just by signing up and maintaining your subscription to receive the yourLDSneighborhood.com newsletter, you become eligible for our "Thank You" prizes. Our dozens of giveaways range from a trip for two to China, to iPods® (each with a $50 gift certificate for LDS music), cruises, and more.

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Forged in the Refiner’s Fire by Elizabeth A. Cheever and Candace E. Salima

What is your greatest challenge? What is the hidden sorrow that brings tears to your eyes every time you try to express your worries and concerns to your Heavenly Father?

No matter what trial, station, or stage of life you may be in Forged in the Refiner’s Fire can offer a source of understanding, hope, and comfort. Co-authored by Elizabeth A. Cheever and Candace E. Salima, Forged in the Refiner’s Fire is a collection of true stories. On every page and in every chapter you will read of real people with a variety of very real problems who have learned to rely on the Lord and come out stronger than they were before.

The opening pages of Forged in the Refiner’s Fire include the following quote:

“In the pain, the agony, and the heroic endeavors of life, we pass through a Refiner’s fire, and the insignificant and the unimportant in our lives can melt away like dross and make our faith bright, intact, and strong. In this way the divine image can be mirrored from our souls. It is part of the purging toll exacted of some to become acquainted with God. In the agonies of life, we seem to listen better to the faint, godly whisperings of the Divine Shepherd.” James E. Faust

The book itself is definitely a testimony to the truthfulness and power of those words. It’s a great place to look for understanding and perspective as we each struggle with our own trials of fire.

I carried Forged in the Refiner’s Fire with me to the library in order to snag some reading time while my children were in an activity. Because of my great love for Candace and the poignant way she tells her own story in “Lean Not Unto Thine Own Understanding”, I’m afraid I made a complete spectacle of myself bawling my eyes out in front of a bunch of wary strangers.

“My Journey of Journeys”, “He Loves Me in Spite of My Weakness”, and “Working Under the Hand of the Lord” were also stories that touched the deepest parts of my nature, sharing several messages I personally needed to hear.

If you feel rushed when you begin to read, a couple of the stories might seem to be a little long and drawn out. I don’t feel this is actually such a bad thing. The individual author is just trying, the best way they know how, to help you experience their thoughts and feelings. Just as you wouldn’t interrupt a dear friend’s train of thought as they were sharing such things with you, read attentively. It’s worth it. Though Forged in the Refiner’s Fire shows high quality work, this book is definitely one that is to be read and understood through the heart. Its greatest strength is its ability to portray emotion and support, not literary acclaim. It’s one of those books you want to take a highlighter to so you don’t forget where to find all the little gems of wisdom. Forged in the Refiner’s Fire deserves an honored place on your bookshelf. You’ll want to know you can easily reach out and grab it when ever your heart needs comfort.

I’m thrilled to also provide you with this video spotlight of Candace Salima sharing her own thoughts and feelings about Forged in the Refiners Fire. Take a moment to watch her spirit shine through and inspire you.




Candace is currently doing a virtual book tour. You can follow her progress and gain more insight into Forged in the Refiner’s Fire on her own blog, Dream a little dream with me . . .

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Counting Blessings by Kerry Blair

Several months ago I learned a beautiful lesson from one of the sweetest people I am privileged to know. She taught me about problems and elephants. Yes, that seems like a strange combination but when she explained it, it worked. I learned that problems can be just like elephants: it’s all in the perspective. Even the smallest elephant, held in front of your eyes can become huge and block out everything else around it. Big elephants cause the same problem. Every problem needs to be part of a bigger perspective. If all we ever look at is our elephant, then we miss out on everything else in our lives and in the lives of those we care about.

She was discussing a very difficult elephant in her own life. At first, my heart broke for her. Then, she taught me about elephants and asked those of us who would read her words to help her keep her own elephant in perspective. She asked us to remember that she was more than her problem. She asked us for elephant jokes. My time reading her words started with tears of sorrow and ended with side-splitting tears of laughter. I’ve never read so many dumb elephant jokes in my life. I found a few favorites and a greater love for my friend.

I had Kerry Blair’s latest title on my “to read” list because I loved and respected her. After learning about elephants, I was eager to sit at her feet once again. I soon moved that book from “to read”, to “bought”, to “read” and I loved every minute of it.

Have you ever wanted to have a dear friend take a soul-baring chocolate brake with you? That’s what reading Counting Blessings by Kerry Blair feels like. Her sweet, wise spirit radiates out from the pages and covers your own heart with a comforting blanket of love and testimony. Each essay shares an intimate look at the issues many women face, through the eyes of Kerry. It’s a great place to gain perspective of your own elephants and the blessings hiding behind them.

You can open her book to any chapter and find yourself being gently taught and inspired. It’s a true joy to experience and I highly recommend it for those quiet moments when you need a little chocolate, a gentle touch, and council of a wise woman. Whether you’ll begin with tears of understanding or laughter, I can’t predict. What I can promise is you’ll find both experiences in this special little book: Counting Blessings.

Join the Neighborhood Newsletter . . . Subscriptions are free and joining is easy. Just by signing up and maintaining your subscription to receive the yourLDSneighborhood.com newsletter, you become eligible for our "Thank You" prizes. Our dozens of giveaways range from a trip for two to China, to iPods® (each with a $50 gift certificate for LDS music), cruises, and more.

Learn about our amazing monthly, quarterly, and annual giveaways by clicking here.

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Supporting Angels

I just witnessed something amazing. For those of you who are LDS you know that it is conference weekend. Two weekends out of the year the members of the Church watch and listen as we are instructed by the general leaders of the Church: the prophet, his counselors and many other men and women of spiritual greatness. It can either be long and boring or a feast beyond compare- depending on what you bring to it.

On Saturdays, the pull to “do” competes with the pull to “listen”. I generally choose chores to do while I watch conference on my computer with gratitude in my heart for byu.tv that allows me to do this.

I admit I was distractedly listening until I heard something strange coming from the speakers. An extra muffling was annoying me, I couldn’t clearly hear Brother Wirthlin’s message and it was one I had been recently pondering. I went back to my computer to see that the problem was not technical, but rather human. I watched with a prayer in my heart as Brother Wirthlin’s strength began seeping out of his legs and body as he struggled to complete his message. Then, a beautiful thing happened. As my prayers and I’m sure the prayers of many others were extended in his behalf he received strength. No, he did not suddenly overcome his human frailties; his strength came from the very thing he was addressing: service. As he spoke, Brother Nelson quietly came up behind Brother Wirthlin, compassionately gripping his arm with one hand and his waist with the other, patiently waiting for Brother Wirthlin to finish his own service. What a beautiful spoken and unspoken message.

Now this witness of the beauty of life and the gospel came shortly after another small miracle. I’d taken the last few minutes before conference began to cruise through some of my favorite blogs. Enter my sweet friend Tristi. Her message: Turning our lives, our trials over to God. I needed it badly as I am struggling with a serious problem right now and pondering how I can best do that very thing.

The two experiences worked together to create another beautiful miracle. It was an image of myself going forward, trying my best, sometimes very poorly by the world’s standards, to serve in the best ways I know how. I wasn’t alone. As I learn each day in my own weak way to plead for help and support with things that are beyond my control there are others silently supporting me. Sometimes I can see them, most of the time their presence and comfort come from beyond my natural sight. How many angels stand behind me as I struggle to stay on my feet? How many times have I looked at my own frail arms and given up in despair, ignoring the strength that was being lent to me by my Heavenly Father?

How difficult is it to stop struggling and start seeking out peace and trust? Very. I’m hoping the blessings of this day stay with me for many. I need that confirming peace as I go forward with many aspects of my life.

Someday I hope to give someone else that kind of hope in the gospel through the things that I write. I believe this is one of the major reasons the gift of words is mine. I am human and weak. Yet, I want my words to leave the page and reach out gentle hands on someone’s arm or waist supporting them when they need it the most and opening their eyes to strength they can not see. That is why I write: to inspire and bless. May the Lord continue to quietly support me in my feeble efforts.