Love.

Tomorrow I am teaching a sunday school lesson in Church. In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or the Mormon Church, Church is split up into 3 meetings. The first hour is Sacrament meeting where we hear different members of the congregation speak on inspired topics and testify of the Savior, and of the truthfulness of the Gospel. The Sacrament of Bread and Water is administered. The second hour is sunday school where we have different options: Gospel Essentials, Gospel Doctrine, Marriage and Family Relations, Temple Preparation, etc. The third hour has men and women separated... the men's class is called "Priesthood" and the women's class is called "Relief Society". So specifically, the class I have the privilege of teaching once a month is Relief Society.

I lost my diary 2 weeks ago and one thing I have learned, is that if I don't write it down, I don't remember it. I experience so many miracles and blessings every day, I cannot bear to let the memory of them die. I owe it to my Heavenly Father and my future children, and myself-- when I struggle, to remember the good times, the hard times, the lessons and the miracles. Since I can't pull out my diary as I am accustomed to, I am going back to my blog.

The last 3 months have been incredibly confusing and difficult. They have also provided precious opportunities for growth and reflection. 2 weeks ago I broke down and knew that no one but my God, my Father in Heaven could soothe the pain, and answer in response to my worries, "I know how you feel." To receive empathy from a friend, they must have experienced the same thing... and I am grateful to have a Brother- my Savior, who has already gone before me and cleared the path. Who made every single one of my tears and fears His business by taking them upon Himself...

I am also infinitely grateful to the people who stood as His representative in my life before I knew who He was. Before I came to know of the Gospel of Jesus Christ for myself, I knew good people. I had people who loved me-- who cared for me so much that they gave me unconditional love. Having grown up in a family less than nurturing, with parents whose love was conditional, tasting unconditional love from strangers was a powerful influence in my life.

The people who could have loved me just because I was their flesh and blood often were so consumed by their own woes that the needs of their children were easily overlooked. However, people who didn't know where I came from and where I was headed, or what I had done, cared.

I had the man who loved me so much that he taught me the Gospel. He taught me about our Father in Heaven, a parent whose love will never be withdrawn, who is always watching out for me, and who will never abandon me. Not a good who punishes mistakes, but One who rewards every good intention and cheers at every mile marker. This man answered every question, taught and sang me hymns to lift my spirits, and prayed for me. When I was struggling to make the decision to join the Church and follow my heart because my mother disowned me, he stood in the rain and bore his testimony to me, crying-- because he knew how much better my life would be if I would take a leap of faith... I couldn't see that far ahead-- I didn't know God like he did. But he didn't give up on me.

I had the missionaries, who sat with me for hours and hours and engaged in all my debates. I asked hard questions-- I got defensive, I was suspicious, I was stubborn, and I changed my mind on them probably 10 times. After months of learning with them, I finally made the decision to get baptised. The following week I would call them, telling them I didn't want to get baptised, that I never wanted to talk to them again, to never call me back... and then an hour later I would call them back bawling because I was so internally conflicted and I actually did want to get baptised and asked them to never give up on me.

They didn't.

I had the friends, my quasi adopted family. They demonstrated how my new life would look by living theirs with standards-- and lots of fun. We had real conversations about alcohol, smoking, sex, swearing... and nothing about my past, or about the habits I struggled to let go of ever made them shocked... I never felt an ounce of judgment. I only felt love and admiration...

Life is hard. It is incredibly unsettling because you really never know what will come next. You could lose everything tomorrow. What would you do if you knew that you would be taken back home tomorrow. Would you tell your parents you love them? Would you apologize to your friend? Would you pray to God? Please do it today.

Time is truly the most precious thing we have, and the more wisely we spend it, the less regrets we will have. I testify that using our time to love and uplift others is the most important thing we can do. I stand tall because people lifted me onto their shoulders. You never know what a kind word might mean to someone. Please be generous with your praise and with forgivenesa