"Christ Owns the Market on Peace" - Sacrament Meeting April 2017

Every year on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, my family goes to the Utah Symphony for their performance of Handel's Messiah. My favorite song is "For Unto Us A Child is Born". I love the words taken from Isaiah: For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called: Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace." That last one is my favorite. Well, it’s sure an excellent way to start off the Christmas season.

I don’t know about you, but I think it’s always a little easier to feel at peace during Christmas time. There’s just a different spirit in the air. Then after New Year’s when the partying is over, the family gatherings come to an end, and there is no more Christmas music to be heard, those feelings can fade. We take down the decorations, finish off the leftover cheese and crackers, and then if you’re like me, you look at the rest of the long winter ahead and you’re so depressed you want to burst into tears.

I feel the same way when a difficult trial seems to be lasting an unjustly long time, and all the while I have been doing everything I know how – to be patient and faithful and cheerful, and yet…. things don’t improve.

Even when we have the light of the gospel and live in a land of freedom and flushing toilets, it’s still very possible to have bad days. We still feel unmotivated and discouraged. We still cry ourselves to sleep at night and day dream of a time when all of our promised blessings will finally be realized.

So we all know that sometimes after a month of rain, it’s hard to imagine that the sun will come out tomorrow. In fact, you’d bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there won’t be sun, and that’s not because you’re a pessimist, but because that’s what experience has taught you.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland has said:

“If you are trying hard and living right and things still seem burdensome and difficult, take heart. Others have walked that way before you.

Do you feel unpopular and different? Read Noah again. Go out there and take a few whacks on the side of your ark and see what popularity was like in 2500 B.C.

Does the wilderness stretch before you in a never-ending sequence of semesters? Read Moses again. Calculate the burden of fighting with the pharaohs and then a forty-year assignment in Sinai. Some tasks take time. Accept that. But as the scripture says, “They come to pass.” They do end. Others have proven it.

Are you afraid people don’t like you? The Prophet Joseph Smith could share a few thoughts with you on that subject. Has health been a problem? Surely you will find comfort in the fact that a veritable Job has led this Church into one of the most exciting and revelatory decades of this entire dispensation.

Do you ever feel untalented or incapable? Would it help you to know that everyone else feels that way too, including the prophets of God?

Moses initially resisted his destiny, pleading that he was not eloquent in language. Jeremiah thought himself a child and was afraid of the faces he would meet.

And Enoch? Plain, old, ungifted Enoch. This is the young man who, when called to a seemingly impossible task, said, “Why is it that I have found favor in thy sight, [I] am but a lad, and all the people hate me; for I am slow of speech?” (Moses 6:31). [But] he stiffened his spine and squared his shoulders and went stutteringly on his way. And this is what the angels would come to write of him:

And so great was the faith of Enoch that….he spake the word of the Lord, and the earth trembled, and the mountains fled, even according to his command; and the rivers of water were turned out of their course; and the roar of the lions was heard out of the wilderness; and all nations feared greatly, so powerful was the word of Enoch, and so great was the power of the language which God had given him. [Moses 7:13]

Plain old, inadequate Enoch—whose name is now synonymous with transcendent righteousness.

The next time you are tempted to paint your self-portrait dismal gray, highlighted with lackluster beige, just remember that in like manner have this kingdom’s most splendid men and women been tempted. I say to you as Joshua said to the tribes of Israel as they faced one of their most difficult tasks, “Sanctify yourselves: for tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you” (Joshua 3:5).

Thank you, Elder Holland.

A few months after Christmas, we celebrate this holiday called “Easter”. One of my favorite Easter traditions is watching Ben-Hur, one of my personal favorites. We’re probably all familiar with the title and its connection to Charlton Heston and the famous chariot race, but for those of us who are not acquainted with the story, it is centered around the life and crucifixion of Christ, told from the perspective of one Judah Ben-Hur.

Judah’s life as the head of a prominent family in Judea is turned upside-down when a childhood friend, Messala, takes advantage of Judah and his family, for personal gain. Because of a simple mistake, Judah’s mother and sister are thrown into prison, and Judah is condemned to die with the other slaves in the galley of a Roman warship.

Having done nothing to deserve this, Judah becomes bitter and hateful. He plans to one day take revenge on Messala. He survives his experience as a slave, and manages to escape during a sea battle. Once free, his anger grows when he learns of the fate of his mother and sister, who after surviving years in the Roman dungeon, have contracted leprosy and live as outcasts.

After hearing of rumors of Jesus and his miracles, Judah takes his mother and sister to see him, in the hope that they can be healed, but they are too late; in that very hour, they witness Jesus as he is crucified, and during the terrible storm directly following his death, something miraculous occurs: Judah’s mother and sister are healed of their leprosy. But the real miracle happens when Judah hears the words of Christ on the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And in that moment, the hatred and anger that have plagued Judah for years, are taken away.

I think we would do well to remember that we wouldn’t have Christmas if it weren’t for Easter. And I think it would be negligent of us to forget that the Atonement works not only to wash away our sins and pay for our pain, but also to provide recovery from them. Because of that infinite and eternal sacrifice, our Savior knows “the deepest and most desperate desires of our hearts.” Because He knows us so well, because he too has carried the weight on our individual shoulders, He knows how to relieve us from it. And this is what makes Christ our source of peace.

The Savior’s peace consists of relief from pain, strength when we are weary, understanding when we are misunderstood, and contentment even in the midst of our deepest trials. Christ is the Prince of Peace because he is also the Prince of Forgiveness and the Prince of Change, the Prince of Compassion, Empathy, and Understanding.

Elder Holland has also said:

“Christ knows better than all others that the trials of life can be very deep and we are not shallow people if we struggle with them.”

I can’t help it if he has all the best quotes.

I love knowing that the Savior gets it and he is not disappointed nor ashamed of me and my efforts. That knowledge has saved my life on more than one occasion.

Last spring, I was a mess. I had just been through a traumatic experience which left me diminished and weak. I moved back in with my parents. The post-traumatic stress and the eating disorder I had developed meant that I couldn’t work, couldn’t sleep, would crumple into a heap and have a panic attack at the smallest emotional trigger, had nightmares, was in and out of therapy, the doctor’s office, and the hospital, and had completely lost my sense of identity. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever be OK or feel like myself again.

One of the fears I dealt with during this challenging period was the reality that I didn’t know how long I would be in this state. I had had plans to attend school in the fall, progress and move forward with my life, but if I was not physically or emotionally well enough, I might not be able to - which meant I would have to wait until the following spring before I could leave my pit of stagnation. I was anxious not to feel incapacitated, and the thought of spending another six or nine months at home with nothing at all to look forward to, was almost more than I could bear.

I’d had an additional motivation in moving away and going to school when I became aware that CenterPoint Theater was holding auditions for “It’s A Wonderful Life” in September. I love that show more than words can express, and I wanted badly to be a part of it – and more especially, to play George Bailey’s wife, Mary. But I was so sick and weak. My body hadn’t seen exercise for a long time and my capacity to handle stress was depleted. And there was no guarantee that if I auditioned, I would even get into the show.

One day in July I went to do initiatory at the temple. I had been praying hard for direction, but still did not know if what I wanted was wise or even possible, or by now - if my lot was just to be unhappy forever and get used to it. I approached the initiatory desk, took my card of names, and sat down. My jaw dropped when I read the very first name on my card: Mary Bailey.

Suddenly I knew that all that time I’d spent begging and pleading, somebody had been listening. Somebody knew exactly what I had been wishing. Somebody knew how hard this had been for me and how desperately I wanted out. Somebody knew that I would need to know they were listening, and that my desire to be well and move forward and become somebody wasn’t stupid - or impossible. Somebody knew exactly how I felt and how to succor me.

Six weeks later, I had moved out. I attended a full semester of difficult classes and passed with straight As. I auditioned for the show as I had hoped, and I got to spend this last Christmas in Bedford Falls – as Mary, George Bailey’s wife. And this Christmas I understood better than ever before the meaning of, “Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.”

In John 14:27 we read:

“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.”

Jesus Christ is the Prince of Miracles. He is the Prince of Reassurance. He is the Prince of Goodness, Light, and Mercy. He is the Prince of Nothing is Impossible. He is the Prince of You Do Not Have to Do This Alone. Through Him, there is nothing that can’t be made right. There is nothing that can’t be healed. Miracles are possible. There is no suffering too exquisite, no sin too severe, no burden too great for the Savior. He paid for all of it.

Jesus Christ owns the market on peace. He is the only one who sells it - and we all can buy it, without money and without price.

For Such A Time as This

I'm going to be very honest in this post. I can only hope everybody knows me well enough not to misunderstand my meaning....

I have an 87-year-old instructor that teaches my pattern-making class, and on the first day when we were all lined up to take body measurements, she said something I've thought of frequently ever since: that she was blessed with an unusually shaped body which meant that she had to learn how to sew because it was difficult to find clothes that fit, and that developing patterns from body measurements was one of the most useful skills we could learn because we make clothes for real people, not mannequins (which don’t accurately represent ANYBODY’S body shape).

That struck me.

In the classic musical The Fiddler on the Roof, Tevye sings the song “If I Were A Rich Man,” during which he dreams of what a different life he would lead if only he had a small fortune. I quote the final lines of his song:

Lord who made the lion and the lamb

You decreed I should be what I am

Would it spoil some vast eternal plan

If I were a wealthy man?

Elder Dallin H. Oaks, in his April 2003 General Conference address, referring to Tevye’s question, makes the following observation: "Yes, Tevye. It might."

Do we realize just how much the God of heaven and earth has given us already, how much He wants to make all of our dreams come true, and yet, how different we would be if we did get our every wish in the time and way that we wanted - and never had to know patience, humility, or want?

We are each given a specific, individually tailored set of circumstances designed to aid us on our life’s journey. Among the goodies in our little life package are things like the time, place, and family in which we live, strengths, and weaknesses. Some items in our package we can improve and amplify through use and exercise. We can develop new talents. We can learn to be better through experience.

But then there are some things in our package that pretty much can’t change: our DNA. Our physical structure. Weaknesses of the body. Disorders. Predispositions. Personality type. Intelligence. Life experiences.

These kinds of limitations may cause us to step back once in a while (or every day) and ask:

• Why can’t I look like her?
• Why does she always get the leading role?
• Why can’t I be shaped like that?
• Why can’t I get this right??
• Why can’t my hair ever turn out the way I saw it on Pinterest?!

Or maybe:

• Why did mom have to die?
• Why won’t he love me back?
• How long am I going to have to wait?
• Will I ever get to be happy?
• Is this what it’s going to be like….forever?

I have heard from many people that I am quite beautiful - from friends and complete strangers. I have been told more than once that someone thought I was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen (which makes me think they haven't seen any movies with Jane Seymour or Elizabeth Taylor and they seriously don't get out much). Anyway, you get the point.

Whatever anyone’s opinion on the subject, I still sit at home on Friday nights. I struggle with self esteem and confidence. I was a really late bloomer. I have ADD, dyslexia, generalized anxiety, and I'm very sensitive. I had a REALLY hard time in school and had friends that pulled straight As without lifting a finger. I was picked on in elementary school and junior high just like everybody else. I started out doing puppetry instead of theatre, because I didn’t want anybody to see my face. I didn’t really start on the stage myself until I was put into a theatre class by mistake. I still see myself as the overgrown, zitty-faced pubescent that hid behind big glasses and baggy clothes because I didn't want anybody to see what I really looked like.

Yep. That's me. And most everybody would look at that picture and say, "Wow, that really isn't that bad." But believe me, it was worse. That's just the best picture I could find. I look at old pictures of myself and hear cruel things that were said to me echoing in my ears. I feel the pain of having no friends, believing I was stupid and incapable, that I would never be pretty, that nobody would want to marry me, and that I would never be good at anything, let alone "good enough".

And yet, it was at age 11 that I first learned one of the most valuable lessons of my life:

One day as my little sister and I rode the bus home from school, my over-sized glasses decided they had seen enough sorrow and one of the lenses popped right out. My sister and I searched the seat frantically, but the lens had disappeared into oblivion. When the school bus reached our stop at the corner, we knew there was nothing more to do but to go home and tell mom what had happened. The thought of telling her I needed new glasses at a time when we could hardly afford a new winter coat was almost enough to make what little courage I had falter completely, but we ran like the wind from the bus stop, and within moments I was in the kitchen. I related the news, mom reacted about as I had expected, but then instructed me to go and pray for help. I went to my room, dropped to my knees and uttered the most fervent prayer I had ever uttered in my eleven years. I plead with my Heavenly Father that he would help me find that lens on the bus the next morning, tearfully explaining that we were in no financial position to buy new glasses, and with eyesight as poor as mine, I needed them desperately.

In the very moment I ended my prayer, I felt something hard fall into my lap. And then there in my hand was the lens - the lens I had lost on the school bus. It had fallen from the sky.

Many years have passed since that day on the bus. I have had to face challenges far less trivial than simply losing a glasses lens. But regardless of the passage of time or the challenges I’ve had since, I still think of that little miracle that changed my life. Because of that experience my attitude toward life was altered forever. I learned for myself that God hears and answers my prayers. He listens and He understands. He is more intimately acquainted with my needs and circumstances than I am myself - and He cares! Now when I’m in trouble, I know I can ask my Heavenly Father for a miracle because I know He can give me one.

So, if the very God who created worlds without number could provide a miracle for an acne-pocked, overgrown 11-year-old girl with big glasses, don't you think He could do that for you?

One of my other favorite parts in Fiddler On the Roof is the song "Sabbath Prayer." I love these words of Tevye and Golde on behalf of their daughters:

May you be like Ruth and like Esther

May you be deserving of praise….

We read in the Old Testament that Esther fulfilled her personal destiny when she, the queen, boldly went before the king to save the lives of her people. But she was not in the right place at the right time by accident. She was chosen and equipped with all of the tools she needed in order to accomplish this dangerous task - including courage, selflessness, outward beauty, and faith; everything that would place her in the right position at the right time to accomplish her mission.

But we may think, "Yeah, well. My personal destiny looks pretty laughable compared to that." But IS it any less important than Esther's? You too were blessed with special tools - YOUR mind, heart, body, personality, strengths, and weaknesses - in order to fulfill your mission while on the earth. YOU TOO were specifically chosen "for such a time as this." You were born into the time, place, and circumstances that you were because the Lord knows who you are meant to become and how.

I know that for most of us, if someone were to ask what we would see if we looked into the Mirror of Erised, we would burst into a flood of heartbroken tears. I know that life is NOT like a box of chocolates, because it's actually more like a box of cockroach clusters. But isn't it nice to know that everything we experience here - everything that right now feels too heavy to bear - is temporary? A MORTAL trial? That’s the whole point of this life - it’s temporary! And everything that is unfair in this life, every wish that we secretly make, and every tear we shed is perfectly understood by the Savior.

As Elder Timothy J. Dyches said, "If you feel unclean, unloved, unhappy, unworthy, unwhole, remember - all that is unfair about life can be made right through the atonement of Jesus Christ."

Each of us has a little life package filled with wondrous and beautiful blessings, perfectly unique to us. Do we recognize each item for what it really is - a gift, an opportunity, and a tool? Or do we see only obstacles, dead end signs, and manholes? Do we wake up every morning with the How to Train Your Dragon soundtrack playing in the background, eat Wheaties like a champ, look in the mirror and growl like a tiger? Or do we put on a death march, tell ourselves how much happier we'd be if we were shaped like Nicki Minaj, and then reach straight for the Dr. Pepper?

I know that EVERYONE wishes there was something they could change about themselves or their circumstances. Living through mortality ain't an easy task - especially when we feel we are failing at every turn. And that is the time to listen to a talk by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. I'd take a bullet for that man. Here's what he has to say on the subject:

I testify that no one of us is less treasured or cherished of God than another. I testify that He loves each of us—insecurities, anxieties, self-image, and all. He doesn’t measure our talents or our looks; He doesn’t measure our professions or our possessions. He cheers on every runner, calling out that the race is against sin, not against each other. I know that if we will be faithful, there is a perfectly tailored robe of righteousness ready and waiting for everyone, “robes … made … white in the blood of the Lamb.”

My mumsy used to say to me, when I went through a period of self-loathing and felt I wasn’t as good as my friends, “If Heavenly Father had wanted another Jane, he’d have created another Jane. If He had wanted another Betty, he would have created another Betty. But He wanted a Melissa.”

Heavenly Father wanted YOU. You have flaws and problems and imperfections and you always will in this life. But these make you REAL, unique, and beautiful. And the things we experience in mortality are meant to teach, strengthen, and help us to fulfill our unique destinies, whatever they may be. Give yourself a break, 'cause you're not there yet, and remember that you are a child of God - and you are not alone.

Now get out there and be YOU.

I Can Go the Distance

WARNING: This post is oozing with references. If you're not a total geek, you may want to open up Wikipedia on another tab right now.

"You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you." - Walt Disney

Now there's a guy who knows what he's talking about. Not an easy life, had Walt. But you wouldn't know it because of the legacy he left, now would you?

Well, no use denying it - 2016 was AWFUL. Holy peanut butter sandwiches, Batman. It was bad. I'm not a pessimist, a whiner, or Grumpy, but there is nothing wrong with stepping back and observing:

To say otherwise would be false and untrue and lying. However, because it was so bad, I learned a whole list of valuable things. But first, let's jump back a bit.

If you read my last blog post then you'll know why I had a horrific year. I don't condone murmuring, but this year really was one big pile of poo, pardon my French. I would have given anything to stop being me, or better still, just be dead. On numerous occasions I was beyond ready to just snuff it. It was going to be such a beautiful funeral. A choir was going to sing "The Impossible Dream", they were gonna play the bagpipes at the graveside service, there was going to be an inscription in Elvish and a Deathly Hallows on my headstone, and everybody was going to be crying like they didn’t know how they’d survive without me. Sigh. I was gypped.

But you know something? Even after all the H-E-double broomsticks I endured this year....I'm OK. I'm a year older, a bit wiser, and best yet - I have a greater capacity to keep going. I earned my emotional black belt, thank you very much. And because of my experiences, my empathy and compassion have grown exponentially.

Toward the end of this year, I had the delightful opportunity to play Mary Hatch Bailey in "It's A Wonderful Life", a dream I thought would never come true (particularly not in 2016, when life seemed determined to have its cake and eat mine too). In that role I developed a greater understanding of George Bailey's plight, but especially that of the whole human race. The show itself touched my heart, yes, but more importantly, I met people there that I needed and that needed me in return; suddenly I found myself offering comfort and service to those who were experiencing trials not unlike the ones I'd already endured. I could feel their pain, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I actually knew how to help. Coincidence? I think not!!

So after what was quite possibly the Dead Marshes of my life, the time came when I finally found myself saying, "Oh."

No longer does the thought, "Why me?" cross my mind without the immediate response, "So that you could know what this feels like", or, "Because I knew you could do it," or even, “Because I need you to be a little stronger,” flashing right back.

Because I endured unspeakable things, I know how it feels to be “just like everybody else”. Because I did time in the pit of despair, I can connect with my fellow men on a level that I couldn't have done before - the hopelessness, the pain, the vulnerability, the loneliness, the darkness, the dementors closing in, the fear that the sun may never shine on you again, so you'd better just get used to it. Simply put: I get it now. And I couldn't have gained that knowledge without, like Hercules, having my strength taken away and being made to feel completely weak and helpless.

If there's one important lesson I've learned, it's this: Courage is rarely manifest through large acts; it's usually manifest through small ones. It's rarely witnessed by anyone other than God. It's practically never recognized or celebrated for what it really is, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve credit for it. Heavenly Father is cheering you on every step of the way, whether your breakdowns and personal pep talks are witnessed by anyone other than Him, or not. I know He saw me turn on "The Battle of the Pelennor Fields" Lord of the Rings track in the car before school in the morning, even if nobody else did - and I bet angels were silently crying, "DEATH!!!" along with me in the seat next to mine as I accelerated up the hill. He saw me pack my lightsaber every day before I left the house. He heard me cry, "Expecto patronum!" at the darkness night after night after night, and I testify that He sent a patronus in the form of angels to watch over me night and day. He knows how much chocolate I've consumed this year and why. He knows how hard my personal quest has been, and He recognizes every effort to try “When [my] arms are too weary to reach the unreachable star."

But dang it - I KNOW now how the Riders of Rohan felt charging onto the Pelennor Fields against an army of 600,000 orcs. I know how Atticus felt when he took the case to defend Tom Robinson when he suspected he wouldn’t win. I know how Colonel John Rouse Merriott Chard felt at the battle of Rorke’s Drift when he heard the echo of thousands of Zulu warriors pounding on their shields in the distance. I know how Harry felt when he walked into the Forbidden Forest alone, thinking he'd never come back.

And in retrospect, isn't that a COOL feeling? 'Cause guess what - it means I have really lived and I have really fought - in some cases, for life.

God knows you. He understands how difficult this is for YOU, even when no one else does. And not only does He provide ways for us to accomplish seemingly impossible tasks, but He allows us to be the heroic force in the lives of others to help them accomplish theirs. Doesn't that make it all worth it?

We'll never know how many George Baileys we have encountered, or whether or not we've helped them off of that bridge. But doesn't it feel wonderful at those times when we do? Isn't it wonderful to be part of the work of saving souls?

But how can we do that unless we ourselves have been there? Isn't that how the Savior helped us - by descending below all things, taking on the infirmities of His people, and engraving us on the palms of His hands?

Yes, 2016 was AWFUL. But here is the list of valuable things I took away from it:

1. Courage is crying yourself to sleep every night, but still getting up the next morning.

2. Real empathy and compassion only come through suffering.

3. Sometimes it's better for Heavenly Father not to take away the pain, if it means you get to become a wise, old, Jedi master as a result of it.

4. Small and simple, achievable goals are okay.

5. God is making you into what HE wants you to be, and that's gotta be a lot better than anything you've got in mind.

6. Forgive and let go. Don't drink that poison anymore.

7. A detour is never a waste of time if you learn something along the way.

8. If you want to win friends and influence people, you need to suffer first. Anybody who says otherwise is selling something.

I survived this mess. My outlook on the future is forever changed. Though there are moments when I cry out as John Adams did, “Is anybody there? Does anybody care? Does anybody see what I see?!” I can also say with him, "Through all the gloom I can see the rays of ravishing light and glory."

I know that as long as I don't quit, as long as I keep fighting, I know ultimately what the outcome of my life will be. I know that good old Sam was right when he said,

“It’s like in the great stories - the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, and sometimes you didn’t want to know the ending, because how could the end be happy? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass, a new day will come, and when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you - that meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think I do understand. I know now; folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding onto something: That there is some good in this world, and it's worth fighting for.”

Pain is temporary. Trials don't last forever. Things may get pretty bad, but it's never worth jumping off a bridge. This life is a gift, with which we can do so much good. "Each man's life touches so many other lives, and when he isn't around, it leaves an awful hole." We can have the opportunity to be a George Bailey or a Clarence in the lives of those around us.

But we have to reach outside ourselves. We have to look at the big picture. So you've had a few setbacks. Yeah, well. So have all the greats. By Grabthar's Hammer, you can pick yourself up and make the most of it. Not every trial defines you, nor is it always given to you for YOU. Sometimes it's for the sake of others - because everybody needs to be rescued, and sometimes God lets you be the hero. If we can just open our eyes and see that, then it’s so much easier "To fight for the right without question or pause, to be willing to march into Hell for a heavenly cause....”

I know with all my heart that God has a plan. I know He can be trusted. I know that there is a point and purpose to every trial, and if we will only put our faith in Him God can work miracles and we can be an instrument for good in the lives of others. He doesn't give us problems because he wants to watch us suffer. He wants us to become something more. We all have that potential. And I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to that day when, after all this is over, “A great, warm welcome will be waiting for me. The crowds will cheer when they see my face, and a voice keeps saying, ‘This is where I’m meant to be.’” They are just waiting beyond the veil, they are screaming your name from the sidelines, and they are pushing the back of your handcart.

I will find my way. I can go the distance. I’ll be there someday - if I can continue to be strong. I know every mile will be worth my while. And I will endure anything to return home to the presence of God - where I really belong.

It was, and is, all worth it.