My thoughts are still very much on the Mormon pioneers.
Our family has made many trips across Wyoming, from our home in Colorado to Utah where we have extended family. The trip seems a long one, generally taking around eight hours. Inevitably I complain about sore muscles, heat, cold, what-have-you. And then I think of the men, women, and children who crossed the plains, from Illinois to Utah, with none of the comforts I take for granted.
Women gave birth on the trek. They buried children and husbands and still kept going. They did this with little food, limited water, and were plagued by sickness, the elements, and Indian raids
And I am shamed by my complaints.
So, for today and once again, I am grateful for stalwart pioneers.
When you put it this way, we should never ever complain about the trip through Wyoming again. And I should never complain about church butt. :)
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