Day 91, March 31

Once again it is Fast and Testimony meeting in our ward.  Once again, I long for the words to bear my testimony, to tell of my love for the Savior.  But I have no fancy or even un-fancy words.  They stick in my throat and get garbled by my tongue.

That it is Easter Day, a day when we give special remembrance to Christ, who made the Atonement possible, only highlights my desire for the eloquence to give voice to my testimony.

My testimony is precious to me, perhaps all the more so because it remains unspoken and held close within my heart.  For is that not where all the most important things are held--a wife and mother's love for her husband and children, a sister's devotion to her sister, a friend's loyalty to her friend?  Those things reside in the deep recesses of our hearts. 

As does my testimoy of the truthfulness of the Gosepl.

So, for today, I am grateful for testimonies, those given voice to and those which are tucked inside tender hearts.

Day 90, March 30

Yesterday I wrote about Deacons.  The story is not complete, though.  Behind every Deacon are a mother and a father, training and teaching their sons in preparation for accepting the job of passing the Sacrament.

Mothers wash their sons' clothes and make sure they are presentable for Sunday.  Fathers lead by example in honoring their own Priesthood.

Deacons don't just happen.  They are made, by loving and righteous parents who are intent on imparting to their sons (and daughters) a love for the Lord.

So, for today, I am grateful for righteous parents everywhere.

Day 89, March 29

Last Sunday, as I watched the Deacons (boys 12-14) in our ward pass the Sacrament, I was impressed by their reverence to this all important Priesthood duty.  Having raised three sons of my own, I know how squirrely boys of that age can be.  Yet, these sweet boys gave the task their complete devotion.and attention.

My heart was touched, as it always is, by those who serve the Lord, in whatever capacity.  These boys are starting early in their service.   And my heart swelled at the thought of these same young men in six or so years serving the Lord yet again as they serve missions to bring the good news of the Gospel to all parts of the world.

So, for today, I am grateful for Deacons.

Day 88, March 28,

I had a different post planned for today, but I felt compelled to write about something that is, as the television shows say, "ripped from the headlines."

A professor at a Florida university instructed his students to write the name "Jesus" on a piece of paper, then throw that paper to the ground and stomp on it.  (How dare he?)

One student, Ryan Rotela, a Mormon, refused.  Initially, his refusal earned him reprobation (from the university) rather than approbation.  Only when the media got involved was his integrity brought to light.  What a courageous young man Ryan must be.  And how proud his parents must be that he stood for what he believed, that he stood for Jesus.

In a world that seems to be determined to take God from our schools, our civic organizations, our celebrations, even our currency, it is refreshing and empowering to witness someone who refused to defame the Lord. 

So, for today, I am grateful for a courageous and faithful student.

Day 87, March 27

Like many people, I watch for the signs of spring.  I watch for the greening of the grass, the buds on trees, the crocus and tulips and daffodils pushing their way up through the winter-hardened ground.

Recently, I discovered that our tulips are poking their heads above the ground, just specks of green against the dreary brown.  The writer in me is always seeking analogies, comparisons, and I couldn't help but think of some friends who are also poking their heads above the trials and hardships of this life.

One friend has undergone numerous surgeries as a result of her cancer of last year.  She has come back stronger than ever, determined that she will have a good life despite what she's endured.  Another friend lost her heartmate of 40-plus years.  She, too, has emerged stronger, her resilience a testament of her faith and testimony.

So, for today, I am grateful for the courage to survive, in flowers and in friends.

Day 86, March 26

I came aross an article on AOL about the effects stress has on skin.  Naturally, I read it.  With my aging, dry skin, I'm always looking for ways to improve it.  

The trouble was, the article didn't give any hints about how to avoid the stresses (i.e. worries) of everyday life.   How does a wife stop worrying about her husband when work isn't going well?  She doesn't.  How does a mother (whatever her age) stop worrying about her children?  How does a grandmother stop worrying over her grandchildren?   She doesn't.  How does a daughter of God stop worrying that she isn't living up to the potential He sees within her?  She doesn't.

I was left with the acceptance that I can't avoid stress; I can only learn to live with it and perhaps use it to help me to do better whenever I can.

So, for today, I am grateful for people to worry about because that means I have people to love.

Day 85, March 25

A couple of days ago, our area was blanketed with a thick snow.  Slick roads and bone-chilling cold convinced me that I didn't have to go out, that anything I'd planned to do wasn't important.  And so I stayed home, content and warm in our snug house, our cat, Harley, curled up next to me.

I remember (many) years ago how much joy my sister and I took in "snow days," those precious days when school was canceled and we were free to go play outside and return home sloppy wet and pleasurably cold.  These days, I don't romp in the snow (though perhaps I should).  I find things to do inside--folding laundry, tidying up the bits and pieces of a home, working on my writing. 

So, for today, I am grateful for snow days.