Clearing the Waters

This morning, I had a really interesting thought come to me. I've had it distill on me many times. But this time, it felt more clear. 

I've told you that before this life, I believe I was suuuuper excited to receive a body. I wanted it to experience the full range of what a physical body could do--from being healthy to sick. I wanted it all. 

But this morning, I had a thought added to this with more clarity. 

I imagined Heavenly Father and I conversing before I was born. There aren't really words to describe the dialogue; it was more a feeling. I imagined that Heavenly Father conveyed: "Your ancestors have had difficulties through their lives with false belief systems, like fear, and physical problems, like genetic malformations, that have made it difficult for them to cope with mortal life and listen to My Voice. I am placing you in a time and place within your family, with gifts and interests, to absorb poisons and curses that have been passed down for generations. This is so the generations ahead of you will have a clearer way and be able to listen to My Voice as they build the kingdom of God on the Earth. You will feel these poisons in your body; it will be difficult, but I will help you along. I know you can do it as you always stay close to me."

I imagined that I replied, "Yes! I am willing. I want to do this; I love my family, and I am honored to do this work. And also, I know what they do to bodies on Earth because I've studied it, and I am willing to be poked, prodded, cut open, and even broken in my mind. If it is required, I will give the body that I love and my mortal life to help my family and accomplish Thy will."

I think I knew my ancestors who had suffered would be nearby to help me even though I wouldn't remember or be able to see them on Earth. I think I knew the unborn of my family would watch on and learn, preparing to help clear the way too; it may take a few generations. And I positively KNEW God would be there for me, leading me by faith instead of by sight.  

Henry B. Eyring said, "The Book of Mormon teaches that God will always prepare a way for us to escape from the trials that we will be given. But we must understand that the escape will almost never be out of the trial. It will usually be through it, and in the process, the Lord will change our hearts" (Missionary Open House, Feb 14, 1998). 

A few posts ago, I gave a quote from an essay entitled The Uses of Adversity by Carlfred Broderick. I'd like to include the sobering, but insightful story that precedes that quote. 

"...I had a woman who came to me who was an incest victim—the victim of a terrible family. She was abused physically. Her mother was neurotic and stayed in bed all the time to get her daughter to do all the work, including taking care of the husband's needs when he was drunk. The daughter had been abused in about every way there was to be abused—psychologically, physically, sexually. Besides that she had to do all the housework.

"She was not a member of the Church at that time, although this happens to members of the Church also. In high school she met a young man who was a Latter-day Saint and who started taking her to church with him. Eventually they married. He was gentle and kind and patient because she didn't come with very many positive attitudes toward men, marital intimacy, or many other things. But he was long-suffering and patient and loved her. They raised some boys. 

"Despite this, she had recurring bouts of depression and very negative feelings about herself because she had been taught by the people most important in her early life what a rotten person she was. It was hard for her to overcome that self-image. I worked with her to try to build her self-image. One day she said to me, 'You're a stake president.' She wasn't in my stake, but she said, 'You're a stake president; you explain to me the justice of it.' She said, 'I go to church, and I can hardly stand it. When I see little girls being hugged and kissed and taken to church and appropriately loved by their fathers and mothers, I just have to get up and leave. I say, Heavenly Father, what was so terrible about me that, when I was that age, I didn't get any of that? What did that little girl do in the premortal existence that I didn't do so she is loved, so she is safe? Her daddy gives her priesthood blessings when she's sick. Her mother loves her and supports her and teaches her. What did I do?... Can you tell me that God is just if he sends that little girl to that family and me to my family?' She said, 'It's a good thing I had boys. I don't think I could have stood to raise girls and have their father love them because I'm so envious.'

"I would not have known how to answer her in my own capacity because that is manifestly unjust. Where here or in eternity is the justice in an innocent child's suffering in that way? But the Lord inspired me to tell her, and I believe with all my heart that it applies to many in the kingdom, that she was a valiant, Christlike spirit who volunteered...to come to earth and suffer innocently to purify a lineage. She had volunteered to absorb the poisoning of sin, anger, anguish, and violence, to take it into herself and not to pass it on; to purify a lineage so that downstream from her it ran pure and clean, full of love and the Spirit of the Lord and self-worth. I believed truly that her calling was to be a savior on Mount Zion: that is, to be Savior-like, like the Savior to suffer innocently that others might not suffer. She voluntarily took such a task with the promise she would not be left alone and abandoned, but he would send one to take her by the hand and be her companion out into the light. I viewed that woman in a different way also,... realizing I was in the presence of one of the great ones and unworthy to have my hands on her head.

"I think we do not understand the nature of ourselves. I think we do not understand who we are. Some people call the temple ordinances the 'mysteries' of the kingdom. When I went to the temple, I thought I was going to learn which star was Kolob, where the Ten Tribes were, and other such information. But those aren't the mysteries of the kingdom; the mysteries of the kingdom are who we are, and who God is, and what our relationship to him is. Those are the mysteries of the kingdom. You can tell somebody in plain English, but they still don't know in their hearts who they really are" (emphasis added; see http://www.mormonsundayschool.org/wp-content/uploads/Adversity.doc; also sold at Deseret Book and Seagull Book). 

I have thought many times what Carlfred Broderick said: "I think we do not understand the nature of ourselves. I think we do not understand who we are." I wonder if we are great, but just don't remember it. I wonder if we would be emboldened by the ever-present, invisible army that surrounds us at every moment, whispering encouragements and keeping evil spirits from whispering in our ears. 

And I wonder if the trials we take on are healing generations, past and future. 

For example, I hope to obliterate perfectionism from my family line. I hope to instill self-love--of our bodies, minds, spirits, and our individuality. I hope to embody stress management skills (after I learn them:) and educate my extended family so the destructive forces of stress do not ruin minds that could otherwise be powerful forces for good. I hope to understand my genetic mutations and finish my book for my family on how to manage them. I hope to instill a feeling of eternity in this earth-bound experience so our lives are viewed with the proper perspective. I hope to pass on how loving our Father in Heaven is, how exquisitely accepting He is even when we are weak, and how Christ heals us so we can dwell with God and each other forever. 

I think if we dig into our trials, we can become mindful of how we might be absorbing poisons and actively clear the waters for others we love. Be a cycle-breaker. Make a difference. 

One last story. My third great grandfather traveled from Sherwood Forest to my hometown as a Mormon Pioneer. His descendants on my line were faithful until three generations ago. My great grandfather was a good man but struggled to live the Gospel. My grandfather struggled in his youth, but became faithful before he married my grandmother and stayed true to the Church thereafter. My father was a good kid and followed the programs of the church, served a mission to teach the Gospel at the prime of his life, chose to overcome some genetic "family curses" (epigenetics--google it) at a young age, married my mother after he got home, and committed with my mother to keep their family faithful and strong in the Gospel. My siblings and I have all been blessed by generations of "overcomers" and increasing light from the Gospel. I think we are getting stronger as the generations progress. Sure, there are still "curses" to clear up, but we now live in a time when resources are available to clear the waters for our descendants. 

It's exciting to live now, to clear the waters, with resources like:

Scriptures

Prayer

Modern revelation and Prophets

Medication--a modern miracle

Medical treatments

Counseling (a big one!)

Testimony-building Church programs

There are still holes in our earthly knowledge. I attest that many doctors fly by the seat of their pants, victims of skewed training. But there are also gifted healers in many forms, some of them doctors. I believe God wants a strong people and will direct us to them if we ask. For a few years I prayed to get better...until God prompted me to pray to find the right doctor to help me. He wants me to learn to clear the waters, not just be miraculously healed in an instant. 

Think about circumstances that were or are out of your control, and ponder on the purposes of your suffering and how you can prevent poison from going downstream. 

Undoubtedly, our children must have adversity of their own to grow. We cannot protect them from everything, and difficulties will happen. One of the worldly lies of parenthood is, "I can protect my children from every bad thing." Well then, how will they grow? To completely take away their challenges defeats the purpose of their mortal lives; we don't have the right to remove our children's trials completely. We can follow promptings to abate danger or unnecessary trials, but if something bad happens despite our doing everything right, it must be for the highest good, and we can't blame ourselves. Rogue physical accidents, mistakes children make, even uninvited, unthinkable acts from evil people can be healed by Christ. We can help our children to Christ, and help them seek Divine assistance to clear their own waters. 

In conclusion, we are meant to be who we are, where we are, and when we are in this earth's timeline. We have a job that can help others, but I believe it must be sought. The "woe is me" attitude is earth-bound and exceedingly myopic; the challenges we have to overcome are grand, healing opportunities, potentially more far-reaching than we can see! We can joyfully overcome physical appetites and pass that to our families. We can absorb mental illness and praise God in all things until He delivers us through it, whether in this life or the next. We can use resources to heal from a destructive upbringing and pass unconditional love to all who surround and follow us. We can be the strong ones if we ask for help. We can break cycles, demolish curses, and absorb poisons, while inviting the burning, white, fiery love of Jesus Christ to consume all the darkness until they are no more in us, and our glorious bodies burn with His loving light. 

Grumpy Pants: "Darn Doorbell!" Edition

I don't want you to think my life is sunshine and roses and that I only post the happies. I invite you into my irritated psyche of today. Because, boy, I tell ya, today was IRKSOME. 

My daughter had a positive home strep test, and my request for amoxicillin to be called into the pharmacy was denied (understandably, but it would have made things easier).  

My PICC line dressing change took too long, so I walked home from the hospital while my husband took our kids to the doctor. It's all uphill and kind of wore me out, but the temperature was nice. It's not a great distance. 

I felt bad my husband's morning was spent on us. He ran to pick up the prescription. Then he worked from home for awhile and made everyone lunch. 

Guilt trip! (Self-induced)

Then I felt somnolent--just desperately sleepy. My husband said he'd listen for the homecare guy to deliver my IV supplies. I can hardly ever nap, so this was surprising and, I felt, necessary. 

Less than fifteen minutes after I fell into a deep sleep (maybe five or ten minutes), our doorbell rang. It sounds like a cow mooing (we have about sixty different doorbell chimes to choose from). I called out. No answer. My children didn't know who it was by looking out the window, and they're not allowed to answer the door unless it's certain people. I got up, knowing my nap was ruined for good. No one was at the door, but a car was in the driveway. It was a colleague of my husband's, and they visited outside. 

I was on pins and needles anticipating the IV guy, feeling bad my husband was staying home. The delivery guy came an hour and a half later than usual. My husband was hoping to go into the office, but he had to wait. I told him to go, but he wouldn't. 

Guilt trip!

We had a miscommunication. He left with our son to go to work, and I unknowingly had been tending my silent daughter for two hours when someone knocked on the door. I called out from bed again, expecting my husband was home. My daughter didn't see anyone. I pried myself out of bed again. NO ONE WAS THERE. I was upset and tired, and huffed back to bed. 

I called my husband, not knowing he was gone with our son. GAAAH! Alarms were going off in my head. 

While on the phone, the doorbell mooed again. I went, expecting to see no one for the third time today. I visibly jumped when I saw someone I'd never met. He said my dog's foot was caught in a wire. So now I had an urgent situation in addition to being wrenched out of bed and discovering I had been a neglectful parent for two hours. BAH. 

I stomped my Sambas on and headed through our baby grass (a barefoot, streppy little girl following behind me) to find our dog freed by the neighbors (thank you neighbors). I released our dog from the line, and she didn't obey and follow me. Finally after a few minutes of calling across the field (she is part husky and loves to run fast), she thundered across the field like a racehorse and overshot the back door, showing off her powerful stride and rippling hair (she's also part golden retriever). I called her name with final indignation, and she ran into the back door and straight through to the garage. I called her a dumb dog in my frustration, but she wagged her tail after her brief look of guilt had passed. She's actually brilliant, and we love her. And her foot is fine, as demonstrated by her rebellion and thunderous running. 

I plopped onto the bed again, with my daughter this time. Her earlier silence was a result of her nesting herself in the front room with Netflix playing on our shoddy little Nook device. On my bed, she requested "The Cosby Show." We watched for about ten minutes when the fatal MOOING started again. 

CURSE YOU, YOU BEASTLY, DOORBELL COW!!! YOU AUTHOR OF TODAY'S ANXIETY AND MISERY! YOU SHOULD BE MADE INTO STEAK!!

*huff*

I growled and schlepped all the way to the door. It was my mom and sister grinning behind it, so I was authentic in my frustration. NGAAA!! I collapsed on our pink couch, realizing the Huxtables were spinning on pause in the DVD player and feeling kind of bad for them. I sat slouched in a very unladylike manner and silently watched my mom and sister haul bins out of my basement...probably with a frown on my face. 

But the moment passed. My husband came in the door. He was cherubic, yet I sort of growled at him, and he reacted defensively. It's the closest we've come to being downright rude to each other. 

Guilt trip!

I realized I was MAD AT THE WORLD!

So as soon as I could, I went in time out. 

It was time to infuse my IV. This week's antibiotic takes two hours and makes me nauseous. A full tummy helps, so I'm now eating Paleo pot pie and writing out my frustrations so I don't take them out on anyone. 

The guilt trips came from feeling like I'm expending my husband's resources and time when he's so stretched anyway. He's trying so hard. And I got upset. With myself the most. 

And that dang doorbell. 

That bovine doorbell is my nemesis. 

You dang cow. You're fired. You're not funny anymore. 

Eat more beef!

Our Love

Written by Yours Truly

I love this gentle man so much. 

Our love is quiet and soft. 

It isn't exclamation points. 

Our love is the underline beneath

And the parentheses around 

Everything.

Basic Update

Even though I drafted a couple posts on big subjects recently, I haven't had the mental power to polish and publish them. So I think I'll just update you on the here and now until I can get my head together. And speaking of my head...

I had a brain scan (MRI). It was loud, but easily endured for me (a blessing!). I have a really enlarged gland way down in the middle of my brain, probably because of a cyst or something benign. It may unimportant, but I'm being sent to a neurosurgeon for a second opinion. Likely, the growth of this structure will be monitored with more MRIs as it could cause major issues if it keeps growing. It is a very rare finding, and it is not genetic. I'm just special! I don't feel any emotions about this news; at this point, it's just information. We'll see what the surgeon says. 

Treatments for Lyme are going fine and hopefully helping. I infuse IVs from home in the evenings. Twice a week I inject myself with bee venom. It is as comfortable as it sounds, and even more wondrous the days afterwards as I admire the impressive welts the venom creates. (My back was used to this and hardly reacted anymore; now I inject my thighs. They'll toughen up in time.)

I'm always exhausted. My primary goal for the day is to shower, but it only happens every few days. (The positive spin on this is that I'm saving the planet, see?) 

My husband is busy and cute. He treats me like a queen even though I'm kind of gross. He doesn't realize how smart he is medically and what a good nurse he is; he takes care of my infusions and flushes my PICC line every day and isn't phased by it or by any new medical information that enters the scene. He does so much--working, driving us around, cooking, taking care of the kids when he's home, and recently, planning and planting the garden and fruit trees. I think he's a hero. 

My children seem really happy and giggle, and whistle, and make goofy noises, maybe too much for my sensitive ears. But I have a hard time hushing them because I know I'll miss their squeals someday. I go in time out when I'm overstimulated, but I'd rather be snuggling them close in our bed. I'm trying to teach them how to clean and be responsible too. Our laundry piles up, but once in awhile I'm able to put a few loads through and fold a few baskets. 

Our moms help tremendously; my mother-in-law comes to clean for a couple hours a week and brings dinner, and my mom brings Paleo food for me too and makes sure my kids have lunch every day. They both drive me to appointments and both watch our kids often. In fact, my children would rather be at Grandma's house during the day than at home. 

Sometimes I realize that being sick is a full-time engagement. I am usually my own case manager and make a lot of phone calls, to doctors' offices, homecare infusion pharmacy, the regular pharmacy, insurance, the wonderful carpool moms, and our own moms to coordinate help and babysitting. I do a lot of research on supposed therapies. Then there's keeping time for my home therapies, making sure I'm eating enough of the right stuff, checking to make sure my husband and children are eating well and taken care of. Then there are those things I never get to, like spring cleaning (it's never happened in this house), and keeping track of which clothes our children have outgrown. 

Dates and getting out with the family are rare but have to be prioritized at times. They happen when I feel good enough to to muster a few hours upright and my husband has some time (a rare aligning of conditions). Even being a passenger while the family runs errands can be a real joy (and workout), but it takes a lot of psyching up mentally and physically beforehand and throughout. 

I received a lightweight, tapered wheelchair that glides nicely. I've used it once so far for an outing. It fits my body really well and makes me pretty nimble! I'm shorter, but have lots more endurance. That is the best part, along with being able to sit during periods when I'd otherwise be standing idly and feeling like I'm going to pass out. My rib cage opens for better breathing with each stroke, and I can keep up with my husband's quick pace and long strides. I love that little chair for outings. 

When I am home and have good concentration, but no energy, I like to read and study. When I don't have much mental power, I kind of zone out. Sometimes I'll color or write. Every once in a great while, I'll get sick of seeing dust or clutter and improve the space a little bit. But lately, any extra energy I've had has been given to visiting out-of-town family that have been here (a wonderful use of my energy). 

I still have severe wanderlust and study minimalist luggage packing techniques often. I helped my sister with packing tips for a trip. She got away with only a backpack--not bad for a teenaged girl!

This past weekend, I got something fun to look forward to--a possible road trip in the summertime. I wonder how I'll feel then. I hope I can use my own packing techniques successfully and pack lighter than ever. 

Sometimes I want to look forward to vitality. But I'm just so tired of being disappointed when I try to will things to happen that are out of my control. It's like having my heart broken over and over again. So I just live for today and keep on jiving. I meditate in gratitude on how this illness affects me and try to love love love it so it feels secure and accomplished and can begin to die in peace in my body. 

That's enough of an update for now. I hope you feel love for your difficult blessings. They are eternal treasures. 

"The Uses of Adversity," and Changes to the Blog

Today is Easter, the Holiest Day of the year. It's a special day. I feel prompted to add the following passage to my sidebar, but I include it here so it will print in my blog book one day. 

Also, I feel prompted to open this blog to search engines so it can be found. Until now, I listened to my fears of creepers instead of the feeling that this blog may help someone...and especially, maybe someone who is feeling extra spiritual and searching for some answers today. 

I love you all, truly, and Happy Easter!

Love, Opal

---

Without the right perspective, adversity makes NO SENSE. It looks like God forgot us or doesn't care or doesn't even exist. In truth, adversity is a kind opportunity to come to know the mysteries of God. The Only Ones who can show these to us are the members of the Godhead: God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost. 

Ecclesiastical leaders, counselors, authors, friends, and others can try to enlighten us. But until one passes through the valley of the shadow of death and communes with The Divine, one cannot know the mysteries of the kingdom. Then the scriptures are opened in new ways to our understanding, and adversity can begin to make sense. 

What are these mysteries? 

"The mysteries of the kingdom are who we are, and who God is, and what our relationship to him is. Those are the mysteries of the kingdom. You can tell somebody in plain English, but they still don't know in their hearts who they really are" (The Uses of Adversity, by Carlfred Broderick, p. 24-25). 

The mission of my blog is to help you remember who you are, maybe through my journey. After we are born, we become earth-bound and forget where we came from, the presence of God. Once you know who you are, that God loves you, and that what He has given for you is somehow for your highest good, you can find meaning in adversity, and maybe even learn to enjoy it!

How do you find out if God loves you? Open your heart and ask Him. He will tell you. Listen for Him in the quiet corners of your heart. Pay attention to your feelings. Eventually you'll see Him everywhere, providing the details in your life so you can grow the most. You'll see Him in the majesty of nature, in the "coincidences" (MIRACLES!) that fall together in your life. You'll hear Him in the words of scripture, an inspired friend, and in the still, small voice that comes to your mind and heart. You'll feel Him in thrills when you have joy. 

He is here, all around us. And once you know He is there, you can explore Your relationship and rely on Him and thank Him for His wise purposes. He loves and trusts you enough to live with adversity. Thank Him and praise Him always. 

"The Best We Can"

I read this and burst into tears. I finally got into a neurologist (cancellation list), and he was not kind at all. I'm taking this message as a reassurance to do what I've been doing all along--the best I can.

Thanks Television Neighbor.

Eternal Friends

(Hear me out. The rambling ends shortly.)

I'm not even sure what to write about. I just know I haven't written in awhile.

If you read the last post, I am still in the storm I spoke about. I don't know if it's a hormonal thing or just the assault and die-off happening in my body. 

One thing is for sure though: I am tired. 

Before this evening, I got out of a lying position in bed a grand total of two times. I didn't have the strength to reach over and lift my water bottle. My brain was a fog. My bony body dug into the mattress with every position, and I had to really think if it was necessary to move before I did. For the first time in my life, I am mindful of bedsores and blood clot risk from all this bedrest, so I make myself move and flex to keep the blood flowing. But reaching for my water? Today, that was asking a bit much. 

But it's evening now, and my mind is warmed up. I suddenly think I know what to write about. It's a subject that I've been pondering, without judgment or any negative emotions...just an objective view. The subject I've thought about so much is FRIENDS. 

Let me back this discussion up with how I've done with friends in the past. We moved every few years because of my dad's job in the Air Force. My nuclear family became my best friends right quick. I personally learned how to be the new kid over time, and that it was much more awkward to let time pass waiting for friends than it was to walk up to someone and introduce myself. Military kids often learn how to break the ice and make friends, or at least get to know people. Some places were vastly more friendly than others. As good as I became with introductions (even though it was way outside my comfort zone), my introverted nature took over during vulnerable times, like when I was bullied or ostracized (for my faith, smarts, skin color, standards, shyness, etc.). Yet somehow, I had this feeling during the several bespectacled years of school in which I sat alone at lunch that I was alone, but not lonely. I knew myself and knew there were people at home who loved me and would be friends with me without copying my homework or trying to get me to swear. I also felt surrounded by a pillow of angels wherever I went, and I was safe from the short-lived foolishness of passing trends, inflated brand names, and juvenile insults.

You know how it goes after that. 

I had a handful of people to eat lunch with during high school. Graduation happened, and I never saw some of them again. College happened, and I met new friends. Motherhood happened and I met new friends. Work happened, and I met new friends. And at each new stage, even reaching back to Joy School at age three, some friends fell away, and some remained as permanent treasures to me. 

Illness happened. As my lifestyle changed again, I knew my friend landscape would change too. I knew I would lose friends and gain new friends, just like every stage of my life. I would learn about my own loyalty and the loyalty of others. And I would become more deeply acquainted with my friends beyond the veil. 

Some friends who I have always reached out to have faded away. I don't judge them; I have faded from them too. We are each busy carrying our load. Our paths, though entwined at just the right times, have distance between them. Or perhaps they run alongside each other, but we are too busy hunched over with a load on our backs to look around, and we are too out of breath to converse (especially on the steep inclines). 

It's okay. It's really, seriously okay. I can't reach out any better than I can reach out, and neither can they. We're all doing the best we can. My value isn't based on how many friends I have and how often we get together, though I am enriched by the people in whose lives I have been placed and from whom I have learned lessons. I love all of my friends, even the friends disguised as misled bullies. You're precious. 

I think of new friends, or new-old friends I'm getting reacquainted with. A dear woman one generation older than me has become my friend. I can't believe she's mortal because she glows like an angel to me. Our paths had never met, but joined at just the right moment. She is several months ahead of me in the Lyme process, and we have different bodies, but she is an encouragement and mentor to me in this endeavor to be at peace and be well. Chronically ill people can become very wise and in tune, and she is always a few steps ahead of me in her spiritual journey. I appreciate her glow; she gives it freely, and sends it to me from far away sometimes with a text message or even gifts left for me at the doctor's office we both go to. I have found that I rely on her strength. She is a choice friend to me. 

My family is dutifully vigilant in my care. The sacrifices some members make are indescribable and unfathomable to me; I  am stunned. I can't begin to understand my parents' (natural and in-law) love for me. I am amazed. And my sweet, busy family members...I don't mind that they all don't come rushing to help; they have loads to carry too. I've been there. Our relationships have changed, but it's okay; I am submissive instead of a leader, and I think some of my siblings don't know how to interact with me in this way. I don't know quite how to handle this new dynamic either, how to be submissive to illness. But in my empty days I do love when they'll say hello and that they're praying for me. I am grateful that our spirits are sealed together and connect on a higher level. I find joy in my family and look forward to when the veil is lifted from our eyes so we can perfectly understand each other with compassionate, loving regard. I can't wait to understand the depths and glory of my living family members. I think I'd be tempted to worship them if I could see their full glory now. All I can do is assume it and pray for them as they are caught in their busy-ness. Bless them. 

I mentioned spiritual friends, the loving family members beyond the veil who watch over and guide me. I believe there is a loving transparency in us even though we are mortal; those spirits that watch over us can read everything about us. Our angels regard us with deep, nonjudgmental compassion, and mine consistently watch over me. Sometimes when I feel encouraging whisperings in my heart, I know it's them. Each message has its own flavor, color, and personality. Those angels of mine care. They are guiding and preserving my life until my work is finished here, just as your angels are guiding and preserving you at all times. 

I believe that as soon as anyone who made the right, sacred covenants here on earth is received into heaven, he or she is made a steward over their family in teaching and ministering, both in heaven and earth. Part of my work here is to find more of my deceased family through family history. Once those souls are saved and have made covenants with mortal help, they can minister and be a strength to their descendants on the earth. I think our families need all the strength they can get in these latter days. Our ancestors' salvation really is our salvation too. 

I think of people who minister to me who act as angels, with a friendly smile, a kind note, offers for help, fasting and prayer, random acts of kindness, gifts, positive regard, a sense of stewardship over my well-being. I thank you, and I love you. You are ANGELS. 

Someone who has become my friend more and more is Jesus Christ. Many years ago, before I had many problems and didn't rely on the Atonement much, I asked Heavenly Father to help me to develop a relationship with Jesus. I just didn't know how to go about reaching Him; even though I ended every prayer in His name, I knew I shouldn't pray to Him. But I wanted to know Him. 

By Heavenly Father's grace, my prayer is finally being answered, and in such an unexpectedly perfect way. Jesus is my Personal Friend. Heavenly Father has let me feel some of the extremity Jesus felt. I am acquainted with difficult qualities of the mortal experience so much better now that my prayer to know Jesus is being answered. It is a sacred time for me because I need Jesus so much. He knows my needs, and when I ask for help, He sends my family, both living and spirit, and others, to minister to me. I imagine Him personally helping me sometimes. I feel so grand and blessed to be His little sister. His image fills my mind when I really need a boost. I know Him. I believe Him. He is my First Responder and the one I cry out to in my most trying moments. My name is on His Hands. 

Finally, I love my Heavenly Parents. My sweet Mother in Heaven is still my ever-faithful Mother, ministering to me in ways that maybe only a mother can. I used to forget about Her. She is the most heightened form of Woman and Mother existing, and I need Her as my Mother. I need Her feminine strength and assurance and comforting. And I know She gives it all in the highest, most loving form possible. 

I love my Heavenly Father so much. He is the Author of my perfect story. He doesn't stand on the sidelines while I get injured on the playing field or haggardly run the race or fill in the bubble sheet of my test. I am His WORK! He is in the minutest details of my eternal life, not just this mortal life. I am His GLORY! He wants me back in His arms again with all the growing He hoped for me. 

God arranged with me the trials and missions I would have; He sent me to the right family to grow in the ways I needed to; He entwined my path with those of my friends; and He sends angels to be my help and encouragement. He has a plan for me and for you. And it's all laid out, personalized and perfect. He is right here, in every moment, so we can grow in amazing ways and become like Him. 

I have joy in my friends. I look forward to having full comprehension of all the people who have passed through my eternal life when this veil is lifted. What a joy it will be to bask in the love and light of Friends.