THINGS THAT MATTER MOST

I wish I had taken more time with Taylor. More time with all the kids, really. I wish I had taken more photos. Wish I had written more letters--the last letter I wrote to Taylor he didn't even get. I don't know what happened to it. 

Probably the saddest word for me today is "regret." The saddest phrase is, "I wish I had..." and the saddest feeling is time lost with my children.

Click here.

EVERY SUMMER HAS A STORY

The Summer of 2015 was one of graduations--two of the grandkids graduated from high school, some of the grandkids graduated from Jr. High to High School or from Grade School to Jr. High or maybe they call it Middle School, I don't know. 

My 2nd son, Taylor, had his own graduation, he died and graduated from the worry, sadness, loneliness and fear that this life brought him. 

He was once the happiest man alive. He married the girl he loved. He loved her completely and forever. They had four kids. Their life was good. Until it wasn't. Even when their marriage disintegrated he didn't say one bad word about the girl he loved. He coped the only way he knew how. Alcohol and drugs. 

He went to rehab and was clean for almost exactly two years. But the loneliness and what else, we can only guess, got to him and he took some drugs. I don't think it was enough to kill him, I think his diabetes played a part but we won't know for some time yet. 

Now summer is almost over. It will always be a summer of loss and grief. For me, this fall will be one of loneliness, and grief. Should grief have a staring role in both summer and fall? It doesn't seem to matter, it's going to be done. 

It's hot here, still. The days are getting shorter. The nights are getting longer. I lie awake until it is the usual time to text Taylor. Because he worked nights we often we texted at midnight. Every night at midnight I think, "I should text Taylor and see how he is." 

I will never again see the words, "Hi, Momma," on my phone.

It is almost more than I can bear. 

Letter # 2 Tender Mercies for the Grandchildren

Letter # 2

September 26, 2012

Provo, Utah

Dear Grandchildren,

This letter is about tender mercies. Tender mercies are small blessings from Heavenly Father that sometimes go unnoticed, but when you realize the blessings that have come to you, they are amazing.

Tender mercy #1: A couple of weeks ago I worked all day and came home beat. I have been battling a cold and I ached all over, but my feet and calves really hurt. I sat in the chair, kicked off my shoes and said to Grandpa, “If I could just have a massage, I think I would live.” (I have never had a massage before but knew that was what I wanted.)

We were just finishing dinner when Kramer went wild. Grandpa went to the door but no one was there. He scolded Kramer for the false alarm when a little voice came out of the dark, “It’s just me, Phil. I’m sitting on your lawn swings.”

It was LouAnn. Her husband got sick the first part of May and by the end of May he was had died from cancer. As you can imagine it has been a rough summer for her, and she comes to the lawn swings when the loneliness of the house gets to her. I was so tired that I thought I’d drop any minute but she is my friend, and so I went out to sit with her. (Besides that, it got me out of doing the dishes. I haven’t changed much since I was a kid. You don’t try to get out of doing dishes, do you?)

I hadn’t been with LouAnn two minutes before she said, “Lynne, let me massage your feet.”

“What?” I said. “You aren’t going to massage my dirty feet.”

“I want to, come on and put your foot in my lap.”

Well, you haven’t met persistence until you meet LouAnn, she’s persistent with a smile and a cute little laugh. She persisted. I finally I did as I was told. (You should always do as you are told if the “teller” is right. Your parents are pretty much always right. You think about it. Have they ever told you to do anything wrong? I’m just sayin’…do what is right—and mind your parents.)

So, anyway, LouAnn not only massaged my foot but my calf too. I have never felt anything like it. She said she learned how from a gifted chiropractor years before. She worked my foot and leg over until it felt like they only weighed ounces.

“Okay,” she said, “let’s change places and I’ll do your other foot. And she did. I can’t describe to you how much better I felt.

“Why did you offer to do this for me?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, “I just felt like it,” she said.

That is a key word for listening to the still small voice of the Holy Ghost. Sometimes it’s so small you only feel an impression to do something, to go somewhere, or say something to someone. Be aware of those impressions.

Tender mercy #2: Later in the week my cold progressed and I felt truly rotten. I didn’t work for two days even though Meg could have used me. When I don’t go to work Grandpa knows I really feel rotten.

“What do you want to eat,” he said the first day.

“Nothing sounds good, except a chicken dinner.” And that was pretty much an impossibility. I don’t remember what we ate, leftovers maybe. It might have been worms on toast. (Well, I’m kidding about the worms, but just having toast might have been a real possibility.)

The next night he asked again, “What do you want for dinner?”

“Just that chicken dinner,” I said. Instead we fixed tuna fish sandwiches and I thawed some of the homemade tomato soup (the bag that didn’t get poured down the drain. See letter #1).

The next day I had to work, even though I still felt rotten. When I got home, and collapsed in a chair, Phil said, “Guess what? Cindy’s bringing dinner.” And guess what it was? A whole chicken dinner!

I asked her why she did it and she said, “The idea just kept coming to me, all day long, over and over, and finally I said to myself, ‘I can do this!’ and so I did.”

Both LouAnn and Cindy are angels in my life.

Tender mercy #3: This summer, our neighbor, twelve-year-old Timothy was mowing the lawn. Timothy had the feeling he should stop. It didn’t make sense to him but the impression came to him very strong so he stopped the mower. As he looked around he saw a little garden snake right in the path of the mower; if he had continued the mower would have killed the little snake.

Tender mercy #4: We went to the Brigham City Temple dedication last Sunday in a church house nearby. They told us it was as if the church house were an extension of the temple. No one visited before the meeting started like we usually do before a church meeting started. It reminded me when Grandpa and I went to the Mt. Timpanogos temple dedication in October of 1996.

We got to the temple and waited in line. When we were taken into the temple I was so disappointed to see that the people in front of us got the last front row seats. We were seated on the back row! I wanted to cry, but didn’t say anything to Grandpa.

Now I have to tell you this, so you will understand what a miracle this was in my life. My witness of the Spirit is very subtle. When other people say things like, “I felt the spirit so strong in Sacrament Meeting,” the only thing I felt was tired, or cold or hungry. My first real witness (that I recognized) about the Savior came after I was married and had two children! I went on the faith of others and my own reasoning.

So, when President Hinckley came into the room and I had a strong, sweet witness of the spirit, and I knew he was a prophet of God. I could feel a difference in the very air, and I knew angels came into that room with him, maybe even my mother. Maybe she had permission to come and be with me. There I was, stuck on the back row, feeling miserable, and I was given the most wonderful tender mercy. Words cannot explain that feeling to you. It is one of my most treasured memories. If I had been on the front row, maybe I would not have been blessed with that witness.

When you are baptized you will get the gift of the Holy Ghost. I promise you, it is the best gift you will ever, in your whole life, receive. 

 If Heavenly Father cares about a lowly garden snake, my aching feet and legs, and my longed for chicken dinner, and letting me have a witness about President Hinckley, think how much he cares about you, his child. Listen to the promptings. Be a tender mercy in someone else’s life and when those tender mercies come to you, be aware and thank your Heavenly Father.

We love you more than we can express. Be strong and do what is right.

Love,

Grandma Snyder

PS The other night Dad was doing his sleep-apnea-breathing-thing. Not the quiet-sleeping-breathing-thing, the ocean-is-coming-in-wildly-every-three-seconds, breathing thing. I would almost get to sleep and the tide would come in. Thank you Phil. Finally I got up and went into the bathroom and opened my nook and read a chapter in 3^rd Nephi. Then I looked up aps and there was Angry Birds, Seasons. After reading the comments I downloaded it—$2.99—and played until 4:30 when I finally got tired. I didn’t clear one single level. Not one.

Since then I read one chapter in the Book of Mormon every morning and every night and if it’s not too late I play one level of Angry Birds. I know the Angry Birds isn’t making my life better, but I think reading before starting my day does.

May none of you get the can’t-get-to-sleep gene, also called the night-owl gene. If you do, take naps.

Love,

Grandma

Letter #1 to my Children/Grandchildren

Letter # 1

September 3, 2012 (I’m mailing this on September 15^th…because I kept forgetting to buy stamps.)

Provo, Utah

Dear Family,

I keep getting the nudge to write letters to you, my children, your spouses—who I love every bit as much as my children—and grandchildren, and so, to quiet whoever is the nudger is, I am writing letter number one. The person behind this gentle reminder to write to you might be Grandma Rasmussen, or Aunt Pat, or your cousin Matt Gleave, or even one of the babies I lost. I hope I do a good job, I think they want you to know you are wonderful. And I do too.

This letter will probably ramble. That’s how I think and how I write too.

When I started this letter I was sitting in a meeting, organized by John Pontias, who writes a blog that Dad reads, called Unblogmysoul. A woman in the audience had brought her baby, maybe ten months old, and as soon as she sat him down on the floor, he crawled off. Just then John introduced a speaker or performer and the audience applauded. The baby stopped, sat up, and looked around, as if the clapping was for him. When the applause died he took off again, and again the audience clapped. Again he stopped to the applause. My applause was double minded—once as a polite acknowledgment for the presenters/musicians and enthusiastic applause for the darling crawler.

So it is how I feel about each of you. You can’t hear it, but I am applauding for you (Dad is too), for every good thing you do, for every tough trial you face and either overcome or continue to work through. For the mornings you want to pull the pillow over your head and instead, get up and stumble to the bathroom. I applaud for when you make mistakes and right yourself and try again. The world’s opinion of you, even my opinion of you (which is greater than I have ever told you) is not who you are. Only God and the Savior know who you are. You don’t even who you are. Let go of your harsh self-judgment. Mistakes make us grow and so, when you are sad or discouraged, or when you think no one can love you, then listen…that will be me you hear, applauding, having faith in you. And loving you. Dad too. Always.

There was a woman at our table—at the meeting—that was eating Cheetos. She had access to a napkin, but no matter how hard she wiped, the evidence was still there. She finally licked her fingers. So it is with our unwise actions, they stain our spirit. No matter what we tell ourselves, or others, or how well we hide it, when we stand before God the evidence will be clear. For us the “licking of the fingers” for the soul is repentance. Then the evidence is gone, not just “licked off,” but gone. All the Savior asks is for us to be sorrowful, it doesn’t matter how bad we are stained. He will clean us up and complete us* and we can have no fear of standing before God. Don’t be a Cheetos finger licker. Let Christ do it right.

On Saturday morning I found a recipe on allrecipes.com for tomato soup, using fresh garden tomatoes. Judy and Glade Hunsaker had given me a lot of tomatoes so that was what I was going to make: Garden Fresh Tomato Soup. And dye my hair. And go to this meeting. I put the dye on my hair and then cut the tomatoes and onions, added spices and simmered everything for an hour. Of course, as always, time got away from me. I barely got my hair and face done, and we had to go. (Dad didn’t actually tap his foot but I could hear it in my head.) We got home at 10:00 o’clock and I made a roux for the tomato soup, simmered it again, adjusted the salt and seasoning and put the pot in a sink full of cold water. When it was cool enough to bag and freeze it was midnight, and I was tired and just wanted to be done with it.

I have a new kitchen gadget; it holds bags open so you can fill them w/out spilling stuff all over the place. I hooked up my handy-dandy, bag-holder with a gallon Ziploc bag and filled it with tomato soup. I used a 2-cup measuring cup, because I wanted to fill the bag quickly but it was way too wide and soup got all over the outside of the bag, so I had to rinse it off. I was not smart enough to use a smaller cup the second time, so that bag had to be rinsed too.

I was grateful to be almost done. I zipped the second bag with an “I’m done,” flourish, and put it under the faucet. The bag opened! It opened under the faucet. The most beautiful, fragrant, redish-orange soup pored over the sink divider. I stood there with my mouth open, doing nothing. When I came to my senses, I whipped the bag up and looked at the soup, cascading down the drain and for one insane moment I considered using a spatula to scrape it up and even considered licking the sink.

I didn’t realize that until tonight that if I had put it the bag in the freezer, and it opened once I closed the door, I would have had a far worse mess than the one I did have. So now I don’t feel sorry for myself. I’m grateful I lost all that soup in the sink. Remember this—whenever you think life is just awful, it could always, always be worse.

At the meeting on Saturday, John Pontius told a story about when he was teaching a class. There was a girl—he called her Lynette--who always sat on the back row in his class. She had made herself as unattractive as possible. “She even smelled bad,” he said. But she was bright. She knew the answers to any question he asked. (She didn’t raise her hand but she mouthed the answer.) One day he asked the class a personal question and wanted each of them to answer. He started in the front of the room and went row by row. The closer he got to the back row the further she slunk down in her seat. When he got to her she barely shook her head, signaling she didn’t want to answer.

At that very second he had a vision. (Don’t disbelieve. Visions happen, impressions come, and voices are heard. This comes from the Holy Ghost. In fact I think all of you have had some kind of experience with the Holy Ghost, a feeling, a decision not to go somewhere. You might be prompted to make a phone call. You might have uneasiness about something. Even when cooking, you might have gotten an impression to add or delete an ingredient. You might meet someone so familiar, like you know them, and yet you’ve never met them before. Be open to the gift, the great gift that you are given at baptism. ) In John’s vision he was standing in a lovely little glen. There were steps leading up and the most amazing woman was descending. “She was brighter than the sun. I have never seen a woman so beautiful,” he said.

When she got to him she said, “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” he said.

“I’m Lynette,” she said.

And then the vision closed and he was looking at the unlovely, earthly Lynette. “I have never looked at anyone the same again,” he said. And neither should I, and neither should you. We come to earth and do not have any idea who we are, or who our children are, or the guy down the street is. Our unlovely mother—I’m speaking of myself here—might really be the most slender, fit and organized person ever. But here I am, in this life, looking like the Pillsbury Dough Boy, in cluttered chaos.

Let’s not judge. It won’t be easy because people everywhere,—in our own family, even—hurt our feelings (sometimes we’re “snarky”), others have things easier than we do, have talents we would love to have, look better than we do, etc. We don’t know who anyone really is. Not even ourselves. If the vision about Lynette can be believed, and I think it can, we are all as glorious as she. Let’s at least think of other people as amazing and everything good that we could ever imagine, no matter how they look here. And then let’s give ourselves a break and look at ourselves with some kindness and maybe awe. You are an amazing human being with an amazing spirit, here on earth, doing hard things, and good things, and stupid things, too. Do the best you can and always know that you are here on earth for the experience, and what an experience we are all having. Dare I ask you to be grateful? I will. Be grateful for your interesting experiences. Aunt Pat had the word “interesting” all figured out. None of us are boring and none of us will escape this life w/out having our fair share of times when we want to tear our hair out or someone else’s. Aunt Pat always called those times interesting.

When I was in high school I really wanted to sneak into a girl’s house and put Nair all over her head, I wanted to tear her hair out, but was too chicken, so I thought up a less aggressive way. Of course I didn’t do it, but for a while she gave me lots of reasons to want to. Now I look back on it, and am grateful that she did some of the things she did. I might be in a totally different place, today, if she hadn’t. And yes, it involved a boy. (I was young once.) My point is that she gave me some times of real grief. I cried a lot. What she did wasn’t fair. Life isn’t fair. It was never meant to be fair. But that’s how we grow and change and become better people, by dealing with the unfairness of it all and working through it.

On Saturday night, before the tomato soup fiasco, Dad was on his way to bed. He had to leave the house at 6:00 to be at his new BYU ward. But, my toenails were a mess. The polish was chipped and there is no way that the Pillsbury Dough Boy can paint her own toenails. I asked Dad to touch them up. Not re-do them, mind you, just paint over the worst spots.

He was tired he was almost staggering, but came to do my bidding. Let’s use the magnifying light, he said. (It’s the one from Grandpa Snyder.) So we positioned it over my foot, which was on a chair, and I was holding the arm of the light so it wouldn’t fall off the table. We looked like contortionists. Dad did pretty well on the first foot. The big toe of the second foot just needed a bit at the base of the toe, so he got the nail polish on the brush and immediately painted the left side of my toe. “Erp,” I said.

“Oh dear,” he said and then he tried again and painted my toenail and my toe a quarter inch up onto the skin.

“Oh dear,” he said again.

He grabbed a napkin and wiped it as much as he could get off, but there was a big blurry mess on my toe. It looked like a toe that had some kind of a communicable disease. I didn’t have the nerve to ask him if we could use the nail polish remover and start again, so I went to church with one big toe looking normal, and one looking huge and blurry and infectious. And after his kindness, I simply didn’t care—well, I almost didn’t care. I tried to walk with one foot always behind me. It’s hard to do that at church. People ask if you are all right. “Do you have a broken leg,” they ask. You can’t say, “I just have a big, fat, red toe, but it’s not catching.” People will think you’re mad.

Dad is a kind man. He tried his best to help me. He got red nail polish on his hands and on the bottom of my foot, too. Probably on the table and kitchen floor, I haven’t checked. But he did his best for me. He always does his best for me. And I got a good story out of it, to tell my Personal History group.

So, today, don’t judge, and do the best for someone.

I love each of you. You are amazing people. How amazing, we none of us remember.

Love,

Mom

PS Repent and forgive. Hugh Nibley says that is the two things we need to do here on this earth. Repent and forgive.

STACE CHRISTIANSON'S CLASS ON BOUNDARIES

I went to a class taught by Life Coach Stace Christianson. It was very good, packed full of great information. Her lesson today was on Boundaries. Here are a few of things she taught, not always worded well as I was taking notes very fast and missed things but I'm putting them here as they are in my notebook so I can come back later, and read them, and hopefully, make some positive changes in myself:

• When we retreat from someone who we are having a discussion with it is usually because we don't have the skills we need. (I always retreated when Phil and I had differing opinions and I would finally throw my hands in the air and say, "You win. Do it your way") We need to know that we can have a differing opinion without confrontation.
• How we say things are really important--are we safe in the conversation? Everyone should feel safe and everyone should come out better at the end.
• If you are feeling uncomfortable it might be because you are feeling like you are being manipulated. Stace asks for some time to think about it. She said passive manipulation is hard to recognize and you often don't recognize it--you just feel uncomfortable. Don't be judgmental but be responsible to your beliefs.
• People who judge you, call you names, say you are one (negative) way or another are emotionally handicapped. They are hard to be in a relationship with. When they say how you are--give you labels--wrap the labels up and send them back to them. Really, what they are describing is themselves.

This part was really interesting--well, it was all interesting:

• She has one day to honor herself. For her, this means having "alone time." She schedules nothing. She does what she wants to. Alone time, for her, is how she recharges.
• Honor other's too. You don't want them to feel incapable, etc.
• When I really believe I am a daughter of God I understand the setting of boundaries. You cannot have good intimate relationships without healthy boundaries.
• As women we don't usually differentiate between love and trust but we need to learn the difference.
• Never give your trust to someone who is not responsible.
• You will not value yourself or have happiness if you give your love to someone who is not responsible. The fruit of responsibility is love. They are not entitled to our trust until they are emotionally responsible.
• Pleasing someone else may not be honoring yourself.

She has what she calls the focus of five:

1. God. Her relationship with Him. She does this with personal scripture study and prayer.
2. Relationship with self. For her, one of the musts is exercising and her piano practice. She does what she needs to do to keep herself emotionally and physically healthy. She gives herself permission to do the things she needs. Sometimes "doing nothing" is a priority. she says she is a far superior wife, mother, friend as she honors herself. When you honor yourself you can be filled up and then you have more to give.
3. Relationship with her husband. She makes time to connect with him on a personal way every day.
4. Relationship with her children.
5. Her eternal identity. Her emotional truths. She sees them and she shares them. Doing things for others comes under this.

If we haven't been honoring our boundaries sometimes aggression comes out. Not sure what that means but I will ask her next week.

RANDOM SACRAMENT MEETING TIDBITS, MARCH 15TH 2009

1. I don't know who said this. "A bishop has a special blessing to be able to have the attendance of the Holy Ghost to help him to know what to say to his ward members to help them." As a wife and mother I think I should have also be able to have the attendance of the Holy Ghost--according to my worthiness--to be able to call down those same powers of Heaven to help me with my husband, children and grandchildren. (And with my rebellious self.)

2. Again, I'm not sure who said this as we had several youth speakers and it was one of them. "There is a way out of every problem, you just have to ask for help."

3. This was from Susan Gong's talk: When she was in college and dating she said she was good at "snarking." She was a "snarkaholic." (To be snarky you are very clever and say mean things about another person, often making others laugh.)

She said she got called on her snarking ability by a girl she was double dating with. She was grateful the girl had that courage to confront her about it. Susan changed right then and there and she urged us to be kind. She urged us to take the admonition of Jesus, "Love one another, as I have loved you." Jesus stated this at least five times-- in different ways--in the book of John. It is an important commandment.

She told the story of a woman whose husband has Alzheimer's and has had it for 17 years. She is his caregiver. She says he only knows two words. One is "no" and the other is "go." They live in St. George and she has meetings in Salt Lake City--maybe once a month, I didn't get that part, maybe it's once a week. Instead of leaving him with someone else she puts him in the car and drives to Salt Lake, takes him to a care facility for two hours, goes to her meeting and then drives him home. That is a long distance, I'm guessing six hours in the car each way. She does this because he likes to "go" and he is more comfortable with her than anyone else, even though he doesn't really know she is his wife.

They used to ballroom dance together. Sometimes she asks him, "Honey, would you like to dance?" He pats her cheeks with both his hands and stands up. He cannot dance but they can sway together and so they do. This is kindness and love personified.

Susan is one of the kindest people I know. I want to be more like her. It doesn't matter to her what your level of intelligence or status is, she treats you as if you were the most valuable person on the planet. She is the Young Women's President and I know she loves each and every one of those girls and will always do the best for them.

So, kindness was on my mind yesterday and I began thinking that we usually think of being kind to others but we need to be kind to ourselves too. One way to be kind to ourselves is to stop procrastinating. Procrastination is one of the Devil's tools to make us discouraged and down on ourselves. We need to do it and do it when the time is right, whether it's the dishes or repentance. A woman I know said this simple thing, when asked why she keeps such a tidy house: "I never regret doing it but will regret not doing it."

Simple. I need to pick up--clean up--put things away--and repent. Every day I need to repent and send prayers asking for help to do it. And I need to be grateful. Gratitude is a blessing that brings blessings.

I am grateful for Sacrament Meeting, it fills me with happiness and peace which helps me get through the week. Sunday School and Relief Society were wonderful too and then I had Trent and Michelle and kids for dinner. I love them so. It was a nice day for me.

COMFORT--LONLINESS--GRIEF

Tonight during our Book of Mormon class we were talking about Moroni and how very lonely he was after his people were annihilated by the Lamanites. He was alone, protecting the gold plates, hiding from his enemies for 36 years!

People in the audience raised their hands and were talking about loneliness and one little grey haired lady said, "After my husband died I was so terribly lonely. I wrote a letter to him about three times a week. I did this for about a year and you know..."she paused and then said with tears in her voice, "it really helped. It comforted me."

Another woman said, "We have all experienced grief, with perhaps a wayward child or other things. There have been times in my life when I wished I could just wear sackcloth and ashes and sit in the corner and grieve. Not have to get dressed, do my hair and make-up and pretend like everything was fine. I just wanted to grieve."

We all experience times when we feel like we cannot go on. I have said to Heavenly Father, "It's okay, you can take me now, right this minute," and I was ready to go, I really was. And yet here I am, still struggling on, as so many others, hoping for better days. Hoping to find joy, love and acceptance, and especially peace, and always loving my family and friends and hoping they will love me back.

So much of life is about love. Loving others, trying to learn to love ourselves like we are commanded to, loving God and the Savior. It really is the ultimate answer.

PEACE--LYNNE'S LESSON

ATTAINING PEACE IN TROUBLING TIMES—Lesson given in Relief Society by Lynne Snyder, March 1, 2006

ACHIEVING ETERNAL GOALS DESPITE LIFE’S STORMS (Robert D. Hales, Brigham Young University-Idaho Commencement, December 11, 2004) There was a rancher who was hiring a new foreman. One of the questions the rancher asked was: What is your most valuable quality of character.” One man looked the rancher straight in the eye and said, “My most valuable quality? I can sleep through a storm!” The rancher tried to try to find out what the man meant. The response was always the same. With deep conviction, he repeated, “I can sleep through a storm.” The man was hired. Weeks passed, and he was proving himself to be a good foreman. Then, in the middle of the night, an unexpected, violent thunderstorm hit the ranch. The rancher went to the bunkhouse and pounded on the door but to no avail. Finally, the foreman came sleepily to the door and was confronted by an angry and agitated rancher who said, “How can you sleep when the storm may be harming all that we own?” The foreman responded calmly, “When you hired me I told you I could sleep through a storm.” The rancher said, “Let’s go inspect the condition of the livestock and feedlot hay, farm equipment, and buildings NOW!” They rode their horses through the storm to find everything to be safe, secure, and in order. The animals were safe in shelters; the equipment was covered; haystacks were tied down with covers; the barn doors were secure and shutters closed. Then, with a look of gratitude and relief, the rancher quietly turned to the foreman amidst the howling storm and said with a grin, “Now I know why you told me you could sleep through a storm—well done, partner.” (end)


I asked my dear friend, Faye Heimdal if she would take a few minutes and tell us how she handled trials:

“We are not alike in many ways. We all do things differently. You can adjust what I do so it fits you. Here are some of the things I have done (no particular order) to bring some peace into my life when things were falling apart:

· "I love the scriptures. I read/read them every day. They sustain me.
· Prayer. I learned to rely on the Lord and not believe I had to do it all myself.
· Fasting. Ask extended family members to participate.
· Books. I always have a stack of book to read. When things were hard my stack was tall. I heard somewhere that your brain can’t think of two things at once so I would read and my problems would be on hold for a while.
· Walking. I would walk around the neighborhood and around the yard, too.
· Talking to others. I shared my burdens with my friends.
· Music. Even country music. There is a country song to fit every trouble and after you’ve listened to it for a while you begin to know you aren’t alone in your troubles and for some reason it makes you feel better.
· Dreamed of home. When things got unbearable I retreated into my memories of Georgia. I could daydream that I was a child at home when troubles were someone else’s.
· Went to the garden. I would actually hide behind the raspberry bushes and when I heard little voices yelling, “Momma,” I just pretended I didn’t hear them. It gave me a few minutes of alone time that I needed.
· Crying. A good cry really does make you feel better. (Quote: “What soap is for the body, tears are for the soul.” Jewish Proverb)
· I tried to laugh about the whole situation. It helps to have a sense of humor.
· Cooking. This benefited the whole family.
· Screaming. I did this in the car and by the time the driver next to me heard my screams I had driven past and they were left wondering who on earth that screamer was.

“Remember, it will be all right no matter how it turns out. Enormous grief has leveled me. Heavenly Father will not leave you to deal with things alone nor give you more than you can bear.” (end)


Some ideas for prepare yourself for trials and hardships so you can have peace in your hearts:
1. Study the scriptures so you will have the comfort of the Savior’s promise to draw upon in stressful times. The Lord will help bring to your remembrance that which you have studied when you need them most.
2. Pray always and often.
3. Read the Ensign, especially the conference talks. Barbara Robertson said to read the "Latter Day Saint Voices" feature in the back of the Ensign.
4. Attend the temple often.
5. Practice prudent living.
6. Give service to others.
7. Write in your journal.
8. Write your personally history—you will be able to see good times in the past and know that good times will come again. Also, you will be able to see that the awful times, the times you didn't think you could live through are over and done with. You did get through them and are stronger for the struggle.
9. Watch the church channels on TV
10. Do Genealogy—now called Family History. I think there is the promise that if you do your ancestors work they will help you with your trials.
11. Write out your fears/angers/unhappiness. Write in longhand. Once it is written you can “let it go” easier. You may want to burn these as it is to raw for someone else to read.
12. Put positive affirmations on 3x5 cards and carry them in your pocket. I did this for several months, reading them sometimes ten times a day. Write them as if the good things have already happened.
13. Heather Duncan has “text messaged” her favorite scriptures to herself and she never erases them. She then has them available at all times.
14. In my blog one day someone commented, “My dad used to ask me, ‘Is this going to be important in a day, a week, a month, five years, ten years? If not then don’t let it steal today.’”
15. Realize that God will not let you have more trials than you can handle.
16. Have good friends. You help them; they help you. Do fun things with them—not just go to them in sadness.
17. Most of all, build good relationships with family members. Make sure their emotional bank account with you is FULL.
18. Hymns. "We get nearer to the Lord through music than perhaps through any other thing except prayer." President J. Reuben Clark Jr. (Conference Report, Oct. 1936, 111 (end)


HIS PEACE (Dennis e. Simmons, Ensign, May 1997, 31) “… In mortality tribulation would continue. But in the midst of that tribulation His followers would have peace in Him. In other words, even if all the world is crumbling around us, the promised Comforter will provide His peace as a result of true discipleship. ‘Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid’ (John 14:27; emphasis added)….

(D&C 19:23) “Learn of me, and listen to my words; walk in the meekness of my Spirit, and you shall have peace in me.

(D&C 59:23) “But learn that he who doeth the works of righteousness shall receive his reward, even peace in this world, and eternal life in the world to come.

“He (Holy Ghost) speaks through thoughts, impressions, and feelings and does so softly. … Paul described the fruit of the Spirit; that is, what the Spirit produces, ‘The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long suffering, gentleness, faith. (Galatians 5:22)

“…Just as Jesus’ anxious Apostles were given peace by 'another Comforter,' so today can all men and women receive the same marvelous blessing each day of their lives … all who will surrender, follow the Master, and do His works are entitled to the same peace.” (end)


PEACE WITHIN (Joseph B. Wirthlin, Ensign, MAY 1991, 36) “…Jesus Christ…has extended to us an invitation: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matt. 11:28–30.)

“… The phrase “Peace, be still” (Mark 4:39), that the Savior uttered when he calmed the storm-tossed sea, can have the same calming influence upon us when we are buffeted by life’s storms. During the Passover feast, the Savior taught his disciples: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. (John 14:27.)

“… In his epistle to the Romans, Paul gave us one key to finding the peace promised by the Lord. Paul taught, “To be spiritually minded is life and peace. (Rom. 8:6.)

“One faithful mother of a large family learned when she felt that she could do nothing more, she would cast her burdens upon the Lord and place the outcome in his hands." (end)

LIVE BY FAITH AND NOT BY FEAR (Quentin L. Cook, Ensign, Nov. 2007) “It is our faith in Jesus Christ that sustains us at the crossroads of life’s journey. It is the first principle of the gospel." (end)

ACHIEVING ETERNAL GOALS DESPITE LIFE’S STORMS (Robert D. Hales, Brigham Young University-Idaho Commencement, December 11, 2004) “…we pray, study the scriptures, go to sacrament meeting, and attend the temple is because we are diligently and worthily preparing ourselves with spiritual armor to defend and protect us for the battles of life that lay ahead. It is so vital that we drive our spiritual taproot deep into the terra firma of life, so that our faith will be unshaken in these tumultuous last days. It is so vital that we let our Master, the Savior Jesus Christ, be the pilot of our ship so that we can feel peace despite the winds and waves of these tempestuous times." (end)

“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about leaning to dance in the rain.” (author unknown)

May we each find peace in our lives through our Savior. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.