When I signed up to contribute to “Essays in Discipleship,” I thought family would be an easy topic. I love my family. I have written books about family. Isn’t family great? But, the truth is, family has been one of the most glorious parts of my life and also the toughest. I have no idea how to write an essay on what someone else’s experience might be with family. Experiences are wildly different. So, for this, I decided to lay down some truths. Not capital T Truth but more like truth-for-me truth. Because I feel in speaking truth, it helps to make us realize we can live and feel and experience authentically. That there is no one way a family should be. That we can all take a collective sigh and just work from where we are. So let’s dig in. In no particular order, these are my family truths…and I hope they can lift you in some way too: Equal in Might and Glory by Heather Ruttan No matter what other kind of family you have, you DO have Heavenly Parents who love you. This is the most important truth there is. Let that sink in. They are PERFECT parents who know how to love us all perfectly…if we will let Them. “On a particularly difficult day,…what would this world’s inhabitants pay to know that heavenly parents are reaching across those same streams and mountains and deserts, anxious to hold them close?”[1] Ride for the Brand. When people ask me how my family is doing, I actually think first of the family I was born into. I think this is true for a lot of reasons— one being that I didn’t get married until I was 37. So, for a longer time than most folks, my family WAS the family I was born into. And my current family looks almost nothing like the family I would have predicted for myself. I have had to both let go, expand, contract, and generally change all my ideas on this. That has not been easy. But I carry with me my family-of-origin motto: “Ride for the Brand.” This motto has deeply influenced the choices I make. (And, if your family of origin is not the brand you want to ride for, then DON’T.) Take what you want from your parents. The family I was born into is not perfect, but it IS fabulous. And my parents have just gotten more superb with age. I know, obviously, this is not true for everyone. But I think there is power in talking about things that we admire from other families . . . I know my friends have benefited from knowing my parents. So, from my parents, I would take their selfless service. I would take their unconditional love of their children. I would take their “roll with it” mindset. I would take their adventurous spirit. I would take their love of the earth. I would take their mad dance skills. I would take my Dad’s still-impressive cannonball into a body of water and my Mom’s relentless optimism. I would take their “it’s going to be one big giggle.” And, if there are other aspects of your family-of-origin that need to be left behind . . . then leave those parts (or even people). You get to decide. (Well, in part. The trick with family is that it DOES involve other people, which is both a miraculous gift and a pain.) Family is family, no matter the size. I was also a family unit of one for many years. As I mentioned, I was single until I was 37. That means, as a family of one, that I still had to develop traditions, I still had to have family councils and goals, and holidays. I had to live my life as if it MATTERED, even if it did not include a spouse and kids. “No matter what our family looks like, each of us can work to strengthen our own families or help in strengthening others.” [2] Learn to Love, Part I When I was single, I had the time and resources to be a rock star aunt. And I LOVED being a rock star aunt. One family, in particular, I lived closest to. Those nephews taught me some of the most important lessons about love. They taught me about learning to love in a style that they needed to receive. One of my nephews would flinch when I would come tackle him…in the very normal McArthur style. I decided I wanted to be good at loving him. So I watched to see what he needed, and what he responded to, and what made him be comfortable. What made him feel LOVED. And I did it. I had to LEARN to do it. But it taught me that even if the emotion of love is there, you still have to learn the actual actions of love. (More on the nephews below.) My husband recently bought me a raft for my birthday and I laughed with delight. (He also did NOT buy me diamonds though he had received serious peer pressure that diamonds are what a woman would want.) My husband knows me. He had learned me. You CAN learn what acts of love matter to someone. “Family life . . . is preparing us for eternal life.” [3] Learn to Love, Part II And acts of love can be woven into life for free. My mother used to send love notes with us when we went on basketball trips. A friend I know often drops notes in the mail; every time I see her handwriting I feel loved. My Dad would check the oil in my car when I came home. My roommate would keep the noise down on Sunday afternoon sacrosanct naptime. My sisters show up. A friend delivers cinnamon rolls. When I make this litany of love I can feel my heart radiate with joy. I am loved. So how can I share that with others? I think in family life, there are times when you hit bumps. And you don’t feel very loving. But if you can practice acts of love, that can smooth out a lot. The Sisters by Kathleen Peterson You get to choose your family. Also, when I was single I developed sister/friends. There is one woman who I have actually lived with longer than my blood sister. (My sister was four years old when I left for college.) And that is a glorious concept… you get to choose your family. Just claim them! Families may or may not look like what you expected…Get creative. My patriarchal blessing and my early life experience would have led me to think my family looked like x. But, actually, it looks more like “octopus” or something not even in the same zone of an x. Ha! We have a blended family and the other members in my family don’t share my faith, my country, my holiday traditions, or most of my values. Rituals and traditions are hard to do when you split time…family council only every third week? Yeah. Tricky. But, I also know, that this means I just have to get more creative. So, we don’t have many weekly or faith-based traditions, and while these are ways my family-of-origin was created, it doesn’t have to be the only way. Families need light. Whatever way you decide to nurture, I think a guiding idea is that we all need light. Is something you are doing with your family adding to the light? Does it take you a step closer to God? I can tell you, sometimes those answers have been tricky in my family. My husband works six days a week – it used to be seven days a week. He did not come into our marriage with the concept of a Sabbath. So, we each brought to the table how Sundays would work—we do morning spiritual study (we live 400 some miles from church so attendance requires a plane ride or 15 hours of driving . . . so the spiritual angle is not always attending church). This has been sometimes challenging for my family as they were not raised to think in terms of structured spiritual teaching time. I have had to remind myself that sometimes just doing it counts . . . even amidst the moaning and silent protesting body language. Then the afternoons are spent on family time . . . which to me feels more like Saturday afternoon play time than “keeping the Sabbath holy” time. It has not been comfortable for me to live like this. But, I can see, these activities bring light to our family. And that is a principle I can live by. “But I have commanded you to bring up your children in light and truth.” [4] Families are the place to learn to love The Other. Along those same lines, loving the children I got through marriage was easy. They are marvelous. But there are many things about them that are the quintessential OTHER. Loving these girls has given me the opportunity to love The Other. It is easy to love what is just like us, but I think families (and not just blended ones), give us the opportunity to learn to love people different from us. And THAT, is a vital skill to becoming perfect, I think. In my family of origin, most of my brothers hunt. I am (mostly) vegetarian. We vote differently from each other. We raise our children differently. These things do not need to take precedence over love. Heading Home by Colby Sanford But also you have to respect your own offering. However, I also learned I had to love my children in ways that may be uncomfortable for them. I believed in rules and values that they did not. Yet if I was going to be the kind of parent that felt I could give a good reckoning in courts on high, I had to parent the way I felt best . . . even if it was not always very comfortable for them. You can’t quantify family love. When I was single everyone told me that when I had “my own children” that I would love them differently than other children. And, that is partially true. I have loved my daughters-by-marriage in a different way than other children in my life. I have loved the child I gave birth to in a different way. But different is not MORE. When I gave birth, it did not make me love my True Love nephews any less. Why bother quantifying? Family love can be as expansive as it needs to be. Eternal families are created. When I asked if I should marry my now husband, I got the most clear answer to prayer I have ever had. It is a NO DOUBT kind of answer. Which was very useful as there were all sorts of things that made me question— including he is not a person who follows my faith. Doesn’t believe, doesn’t follow, and, in fact, sometimes really wishes I did not follow. This can be hard. But, I always come back to the idea that my Heavenly Parents told me to marry him. They knew him, They knew me. They love us both and saw us as eternal beings-in-process . . . not just where we are now. So, if God told me to marry him, it must be ok. When people talk about eternal families, I remember that my family is ALSO eternal. Eternal families take work. Yeah. Work. Like every day. We go to work and we get a paycheck. There is a nice cause and effect that can be seen almost immediately. But the work of families is relentless and does not always show obvious dividends (and sometimes even seemingly-significant debits). And then I try and take a deep breath and channel Julie Beck. (And, if that doesn’t work, then curl up in a ball for a few minutes/days/weeks either literally or figuratively until I can get back at it…) “Because families are eternal, we cannot afford to be casual or complacent about those relationships . . . Families mean work, but they are our great work—and we are not afraid of work.”  [5] Embrace an expansive definition of family. In fact, family is the entire world. We call each other brother and sister because we mean it. I live in India and this is one of the truths of Christianity that matters most to me. People cannot be “above” or “below” us in a hierarchy of worth— because we are children of God. We are all brothers and sisters. Now, if we truly believed that about family, how would that change our behavior? That said, You don’t have to love your family or everyone in your family. I have friends who have had to cut family members out of their life. The family members were toxic and a relationship with them was damaging. Family can be family, but from a safe distance. Loving families can wear you out. It’s okay to hide from family…whether briefly or permanently. Family bonds are eternal— if we choose them to be. Families are Eternal . . . and that’s capital T Truth. This is one that is not just from me. Families ARE eternal. And what that means to me is that they are worth our time, talents, energy, effort. They are worth not giving up on. Just find the way family can work for you . . . but, remember, there is an eternal relationship at work here. The people we knew and loved in Earth and Heaven, we will know and love again. Our Heavenly Parents loved us then, love us now, and will continue to love us. When we talk about investing in eternal families, we need to remember that a relationship with our Parents is worth the investment too! “We can picture home again with our Heavenly Parents in that wonderful place, not only as sons and daughters but husbands and wives, fathers and mothers, grandfathers and grandmothers, grandsons and granddaughters, bound together forever in loving families.”  [6] And, if we truly think families are eternal, what truths do we live by each day? Daily, remember the miracle. As I was trying to get out the door, my young four-year-old daughter clung to me and whined, “But I just want to be with you.” My immediate gut response was, “I have THINGS TO DO.” And, then, I remembered: this is a miracle. She exists. She values our relationship. The way she shows this is by wanting to be with me. She loves me. And I was able to have a much more patient response. Because, the truth is, it’s a miracle to have a child and a miracle to be loved and wanted. Not to freak you out, but this hit me today: A father, who lost his young son to brain cancer, urged those who still have sons and daughters to “embrace them with a little added rapture and a keener awareness of joy.”  [7] Daily, remember the importance. And, while we all have a bazillion things to do, the truth is, also, REALLY, that our family is our most important. Now, I could argue it is not an either/or situation. We can do family AND do other things. It may be a time and season, but I would not want a woman to think the daily grind of family life is her only lot. (In fact, all should contribute to the daily grind.) Not that families are a woman’s “only” lot— I am not denigrating the required work of family life. However, the temporal tasks have to be done— but they do not have to be our sum total of meaning. I have never found cooking to be particularly satisfying and the fact I need to look elsewhere for soul nourishment is just fine. It is also just fine if someone DOES find cooking to be soul-nourishing. I think the things I choose to do beyond my family life are worthwhile. (I made a commitment to not piddle time on my phone.) But, still, let’s take note of the divine model. And this is what we know— WE are our Heavenly Parents’ work. And if we are worth THEIR time/talents/energy/effort, then isn’t our family worth ours? “Everything we know about our Heavenly Father is connected with His parenthood and His loving care for our souls. He loves each of His children unconditionally. We can do the same in our families.”  [8] “Our heavenly parents want us back with them. That is their goal, their work, and their glory.”  [9] Daily, cultivate your values. I think this is a daily choice . . . and can be challenging. Understatement. But, if you can have a family council and together decide the family values you want to live by, well, it helps. It doesn’t make it easy, but it helps. And then, put your values in public spaces as reminders. Let all your family members hold all of the other members accountable. Say prayers together asking for help. And let your teenagers teach the lessons sometimes. It’s good for them…and you. “Loving, protecting, and nurturing our children are among the most sacred and eternally important things we will do . . . Therefore parents and children must work together in unity to fortify family relationships, cultivating them day in and day out.”  [10] Choose long-term vision. Sometimes, often, perhaps daily, family is hard. And this is when I turn to this quote about Eve and her role in the family— she had vision. From the time she chose to eat of the fruit until her thoughts we have recorded in scripture— she chose to celebrate vision. And we can too! WE can be the visionaries of our families to encourage us all to play the long game… “We don’t know all the help Eve was to Adam and to their family. But we do know of one great gift that she gave, which each of you can also give: she helped her family see the path home when the way ahead seemed hard. ‘And Eve, his wife, heard all these things and was glad, saying: Were it not for our transgression we never should have had seed, and never should have known good and evil, and the joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient.’” [11] And, most of all, know that you (we all!) belong to the family of God No matter who you are, what you look like, what you do, what you have done, who your family is, how much you succeed or fail on any given day— you are loved. Perfectly. We each belong to and are needed in the family God.  [12] [1] Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, However Long and Hard the Road (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1985), 47. [2] Barbara Thompson, “ His Arm Is Sufficient ,” April 2009 General Conference. [3] Larry Gibson, speech at BYU, “ Following Heavenly Father’s Plan ,” March 11, 2014 [4] Doctrine and Covenants 93:40 [5] Julie B. Beck, “ What Latter-day Saint Women Do Best: Stand Strong and Immovable ,” October 2007 General Conference [6] Elder Henry B. Eyring, “The Family,” Ensign , Feb 1998, 10, 12–13. [7] John Gunther, Death Be Not Proud: A Memoir [1949], 259. [8] Patricia P. Pinegar “ Caring for the Souls of Children ,” April 1997 General Conference. [9] Theodore M. Burton, “A Marriage to Last through Eternity,” Ensign 17 (June 1987): 14. [10] W. Douglas Shumway, “ Marriage and Family: Our Sacred Responsibility ” April 2004 General Conference [11] Henry B. Eyring “ Daughters in the Covenant ” April 2014 General Conference. [12] Carole M. Stephens “ The Family Is of God ” April 2015 General Conference

Learn more about Lucy Mack Smith through historical documents on The Joseph Smith Papers website .

On February 11, 2020, my family drove Rachel, my oldest daughter, to the airport here in Madison, Wisconsin. People streamed past us in the busy airport as we hugged her and said our goodbyes. We told each other it would be two birthdays and one Christmas—18 months—until we saw her again. She was tearful but excited as she boarded her plane to fly to the Mexico City MTC, ready to focus on studying both the gospel and Spanish as she prepared to teach and serve people in Washington. In her calls those first few weeks, we could tell she was working hard, learning a lot, and having fun. Six weeks after dropping her off at the Madison airport, I stood alone in that same airport. No people streamed past me this time. Instead, the airport was completely empty as I waited for Rachel to get off her plane. She had been woken up at 2 a.m. that morning and handed a ticket to come home. The Mexico City MTC was being evacuated and missionaries around the world were being called back to their home countries as Covid-19 spread. Although in our limited interactions we had tried to prepare her for what we increasingly saw as inevitable, cut off from world news in the safety of her happy MTC bubble, it was impossible for her to digest the magnitude of what was happening. Reality hit hard as her plans for the future collapsed around her. It was the beginning of a roller coaster—for Rachel and many others of course. Over the next two months, Rachel would be told she couldn’t return to missionary service due to using an inhaler twice in the past five years, become frighteningly ill with pneumonia, test negative for Covid-19, be diagnosed with it anyway (possibly having caught it on her layover in Newark, New Jersey on her way home from Mexico) when the doctor told us the test wasn’t reliable and quarantined in her bedroom for two weeks. She would sign up for BYU spring term classes and choose an apartment for fall just to get a call from our stake president that her case had been reviewed and she was approved to go back on her mission. Then she would suffer a pneumonia relapse, which would lead to more Covid tests and more quarantines. On May 26th, the day after she had been cleared from the latest round of Covid limitations and over two months after she had arrived home, we hugged her goodbye again as she boarded a flight to Washington. While Rachel is now in her original mission, speaking Spanish just as she was originally called to do, her mission looks very different than what she had imagined when she submitted her papers nearly a year ago. She has never been to church in Washington and has only met a handful of the members in the local Spanish branch in person. She cannot tract and in fact on most days only leaves her apartment twice for 30-minute walks. The rest of her time is spent contacting people on Facebook or teaching people through Facetime on her phone. Yet while Rachel’s path to becoming a missionary and even her daily life as a missionary is astonishing different than she had originally imagined, the purpose of her mission hasn’t changed. Preach My Gospel states that a missionary’s purpose is “to invite others to come unto Christ by helping them receive the restored gospel through faith in Jesus Christ and His atonement, repentance, baptism, receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost and enduring to the end.” The delivery of the message has changed but the message itself is the same. In her sacrament meeting talk given the Sunday before she left on her mission, Rachel said, “I have always known that I am a child of Heavenly Parents who love me. That has shaped my life. I want to share that message with others, to help them come to Christ and feel God’s love in their lives too.” That message also remains true and just as important, if not more important, than ever before. When faced with unexpected or challenging circumstances, we often focus on the need to have deep, strong roots to keep us in place. Roots are important of course. But we need something in addition to roots to withstand whirlwinds. In his April 2014 General Conference talk, “Spiritual Whirlwinds,” Neil Anderson reminded us that trees that effectively withstand high winds have two adaptations: 1) roots that spread farther 2) trunks and branches that are more flexible. In other words, we must both be deeply rooted in what matters and also be willing to bend and change when needed. Without deep roots, we will get blown away. But without a flexible trunk, we will break. For Rachel to be successful—and to be happy—as a missionary in our current Covid world, she needs deep roots. She must hold onto and nurture her knowledge of God’s love for her and for others. But she also must be flexible as she looks for new ways to share this knowledge. Part of what makes this possible is separating what is an unshakeable truth and remains unchangeable (God’s love for us and the importance of sharing that love with others) and what is only a vehicle, a process or procedure to help and therefore can and should be adapted to fit our circumstances or be adapted as we grow (the way she shares this message as a missionary). As the world has shifted beneath us and whirlwinds have raged around us these last few months, we have all found ourselves needing to be flexible in ways we never expected to—in ways we probably didn’t even think we could. With many of our plans canceled and options closed off, we have been forced to think more about what really matters and what should remain unchangeable in our lives. Instead of going through the motions of what we’ve always done, in many cases, we have had no choice but to leave behind the comfortable and familiar processes that have shaped our lives. We must learn to bend as the wind blows and to let go, if only temporarily, of some things. Then we must forge new paths to accomplish or even maintain the truly important things in our lives. Keeping with the theme of missionary service, I recently came across the story of Elizabeth Ann Claridge McCune in a church history article titled “ I Could Have Gone Into Every House ,” which demonstrates this same principle in a different way. In February of 1897, Elizabeth traveled to Europe with her husband, Alfred, and four of her children for a sightseeing trip. The trip began in England, where Elizabeth’s 19-year-old-son, Raymond, was serving a mission. Elizabeth invited him and some of the other missionaries to stay at their house in England. Elizabeth and her daughter often accompanied the missionaries as they taught in the streets. At this time, women were not called as missionaries. Yet Elizabeth felt powerfully drawn to the work. She wrote, “While abroad I always had a burning desire in my heart to give our Father’s children what I knew to be the Truth. Wherever I went to visit and had an opportunity to converse with the people I would lead up to this the uppermost topic in my mind. Often I had the privilege of proclaiming the Gospel to people who had never before heard of it. I asked myself, at times, ‘Why do I feel so, I am not a missionary?’ I told my daughter one day that I believed the time was not far distant when women would be called on missions.”[1] Around this same time, a man named William Jarman was also traveling through Europe. A former member of the Church, he was promoting his recently published anti-Mormon book that presented a scandalous account of life in Utah, particularly as it related to Mormon women. The book served as a major stumbling block for missionary work in England. Church leaders found that their male leadership and young male missionaries could not effectively convince the public that this portrayal of women was not correct. Then President Joseph McCurrin, a counselor in the European Mission presidency, got an idea. His purpose of sharing the gospel effectively with the people in England had not changed but new circumstances meant he needed to be flexible, to adapt the process to accomplish it. He called on Elizabeth to address a packed house at the 1897 semi-annual London Conference and to tackle the topic head on. At the conference, Elizabeth told the crowd, “Our husbands are proud of their wives and daughters; they do not consider that they were created solely to wash dishes and tend babies; but they give them every opportunity to attend meetings and lectures and to take up everything which will educate and develop them. Our religion teaches us that the wife stands shoulder to shoulder with the husband.”[2] The strong and immediate impact of these words, spoken by a woman sharing her own personal experience, was felt by everyone. Elizabeth later wrote “This incident opened my eyes as to the great work our sisters could do.” It opened the eyes of Church leaders also. Elizabeth spoke at other events in England. Joseph wrote a letter to the First Presidency, telling them of “instances in which our sisters gained attention in England, where the Elders could scarcely gain a hearing.” He told them “that if a number of bright and intelligent women were called on missions to England, the results would be excellent.”[3] Only a few months later on April 1, 1898, Amanda Inez Knight and Lucy Jane Brimhall were set apart to be the first female proselyting missionaries in the history of the Church. While calling sister missionaries was not the way missionary work had been done before, these inspired women and church leaders recognized that having sisters serve missions helped accomplish the purpose of missionary work: bringing people to Christ. Calling women not only added numbers of missionaries, they added unique perspective and voices to the work, reaching people in new ways, accomplishing good that would not have been accomplished without them. Structure and protocols are necessary and helpful. They keep order and we know that God’s house is a house of order.[4] But if we aren’t careful, they can sometimes become a barrier or distraction from the essence of what we are doing. We can get so caught up in how we do something that we forget why we are doing it. It’s easy then to become attached to the process and resistant to any changes—even those that might actually help us better accomplish the things that matter most. Or on the other side, when we become too fixated on procedures we wish would change, we can get so stuck on frustration over a process that we lose sight of the beauty beyond it. We know that God is the same yesterday, today and forever.[5] We also know that we are a Church and a people that believe in continuing revelation. In fact, Quenton Cook called continuing revelation “the very lifeblood of the gospel of the living Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.”[6] This means that the truth and power of Jesus Christ being our Savior and Redeemer will never change but the way lessons are structured in the youth program to teach this has changed and will continue to change. It means that it remains fixed that baptism is a necessary ordinance but that who is allowed to act as witnesses does not and has not remained fixed. It means that God’s love for us is eternal but the particular guidance he provides for our life changes, that even an answer to the same prayer could be different at different points in time. Of course it’s not just global pandemics that bring whirlwinds or cause the world to shift beneath us. We’ve all had the experience of feeling the world shift in more personal ways. These shifts can leave us feeling unsteady. Hopefully they also lead to moments of reflection in which we consider what our roots are, what forms our personal foundation—and what we can let go of. The gospel is made up of universal truths yet it is also an extremely personal gospel. Since we are all imperfect and incomplete, each of us has roots that are also imperfect and incomplete. What forms our personal roots will be different for each person then, built and solidified by our own experiences, our own searching, the growth of our own personal faith. I am still learning to focus on what is most important, on the truths that keep me personally rooted. I have learned that like my daughter, feeling God’s love for me and for others keeps me rooted. My growing understanding of grace, both the divine grace that God offers us and the kind of grace that we must learn to offer one another, is important to me. The verses in Matthew that teach “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” contain a truth that I have tried to build my life around.[7] As Covid blows through my life, I’m learning to be flexible and adapt to (although sometimes painfully and grudgingly) the way school happens for my kids while staying dedicated to helping them learn and grow. I’m being flexible about what church looks like while keeping my commitment to finding ways to worship. I’m working on extending grace to people who strongly express opinions and then follow them up with behavior that I find befuddling and even offensive, hoping others offer me that same grace as I also stumble to find my way. And as new thoughts and ideologies, new challenges and tests come my way, I am trying to keep my roots firmly planted while allowing my branches to bend in the wind. [1]   Susa Young Gates, “Biographical Sketches, Elizabeth Claridge McCune,”  Young Woman’s Journal  9 (August 1898): 339-343. [2] Gates, 342 [3]   Journal History of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints , 11 March 1898 [4] D&C 132:8 [5] Mormon 9:9 [6]  “ The Blessing of Continuing Revelation . . . ” General Conference, April 2020 [7]   Matthew 25:40

“Grace to you, and peace, from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ . . . ”[1] So Paul begins almost all his letters to the scattered Christian converts from Galatia to Rome. How different from the way I greet people! His words are so much kinder than our English, “hello,” which is really just an etymological cousin of the word “holler” — a modified shout for attention. Paul’s greeting is instead an acknowledgment of love. Perhaps Paul was echoing the angelic greetings that promised the birth of Christ. Gabriel greets Mary by saying “Hail, thou that are highly favoured, the Lord is with thee . . . Fear not.”[2] That phrase, “highly favoured,” is alternatively translated as “full of grace” and is the basis for the traditional Ave Maria prayer. With his “fear not,” Gabriel also confers peace on Mary. First grace, then peace. What is it to be greeted with grace? What is grace in the first place? In the simplest of terms, grace is a free or unearned gift. We believe that God is generous and that he offered us his Son, who endured all things so that we could hope all things. 2 Nephi 25:23 says that “by grace we are saved after all we can do.” This phrase “after all” communicates an unexpected outcome, instead of the result of an inevitable process of cause and effect or action and reward. Grace does not have to come chronologically “after.” It is instead a disruption of cause and effect at any point, offering mercy instead of punishment and debunking laws of scarcity or entropy or retaliation. I am again reminded of Gabriel and Paul’s greeting of grace. Mary was “full of grace” at the beginning of her gospel story, not at some distant future judgment day. And Paul’s repetitive greetings spanned years of missionary work, expressing his hope that grace would be a continual presence in the life of the early Christians. How can we see grace as both a starting point and continual presence in our lives, not just the happy resolution after the trial is over? When I think of grace as a greeting, a starting point, I think of the change in perspective that comes with Christian discipleship. Sometimes this shift can be a simple act of will on our part, a conscious decision to look for the good. I think of the story of Moses and the brazen serpent. When the people were suffering, their healing came when they had the faith to look at what Moses was holding up. Alma explains this in his sermon to the Zoramites: “O my brethren [and sisters], if ye could be healed by merely casting about your eyes that ye might be healed, would ye not behold quickly, or would ye rather harden your hearts in unbelief, and be slothful, that ye would not cast about your eyes, that ye might perish?”[3] Alma describes the act of coming to Christ as an intentional act of noticing. Looking to Christ, we are prompted to seek out the good and find what is “virtuous, lovely or of good report or praiseworthy” as our 13th Article of Faith says. As Gabriel hails Mary with a declaration of her grace and Paul greets his fellow disciples with the hope for grace, so can I acknowledge the joy and goodness infused throughout my world. I can extend grace to the people around me, and if I look for good gifts, my eyes can be opened to see them. I learned something close to this truth when I was very young; I must have been about six years old. I would hear people talk about “spiritual experiences,” moments when they felt their faith strengthened or sensed divinity in some way. I hadn’t experienced that myself, but I knew my parents and people at church had, and I was a little bit envious. One night, I had gone to bed upset, after some sibling squabbling. I was lying in my bunk bed, nursing my annoyance by making a mental list of the wrongs that I had experienced. But into my head came a little thread of melody that distracted me from my grumbling. “Count Your Many Blessings” is a simple song, almost a ditty of a hymn, with a catchy chorus that I had picked up on somehow. I remember being amazed because I knew that my mood had been decidedly ungrateful just a moment before, and all of sudden, against my inclination, I was being prompted toward gratitude. Call it conscience, or inspiration, or the Holy Ghost — but this was possibly the first time that I recognized an inner spiritual guide. This one experience shaped my understanding of how divine promptings work in my life. Instead of a contrived or Pollyanna-ish exercise in gratitude, this recognition of my blessings became a moment of profound truth, one that I’ve often come back to. Many years later, I feel at my most honest when I am seeing and acknowledging what is good around me. For me, this recognition is grace in practice. Practicing gratitude is a simple way to greet the world with grace, easy enough for a 6-year-old girl to understand. But it is not always easy or simple to make a course correction toward a happy state of mind or to will ourselves into contentment. Sometimes we experience tragedy and the most appropriate emotion to feel is grief. Does grace have a place in these moments when our world feels fallen? Or is it put on hold until a later happier resolution? For me, some of the most convincing evidence of God’s grace comes when I explore my family’s history. Like every family, mine is full of imperfect people and a fair measure of tragedy. I look back on some of the individuals whose lives were sadder than others with an instinctive feeling of protectiveness and compassion. My great-grandmother is one of these individuals. Divorced when her two children were teenagers, she lived just a few more restless years, pursuing some unsuccessful business ventures in Florida and Washington D.C. before taking her own life at age 47. Her death was especially difficult for my grandfather, who dropped out of college around that time, moved to the east coast to find work, and never returned to live in his hometown again, seeing his father, step-mother, and younger half-siblings only rarely. A few summers ago my mother and I had the chance to be in the Midwest and we decided to visit my grandfather’s hometown. We hoped to find this great-grandmother’s grave, which neither of us had seen, and then stop in to visit my grandfather’s half-sister (the daughter of his father’s second wife) and her husband. We found the cemetery with no trouble, but it was much larger than we had expected, and without a map of the cemetery plots, we were lost. After some wandering, hoping to chance upon the grave, we sadly gave up our search so that we could meet Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Ken at the appointed time. We arrived, and after hugs and snacks, Uncle Ken proposed that we go on a driving tour of the town to look at places of family significance. When he heard about our misadventure in the cemetery, he was surprised that we had gone without them, telling my mother, “I know where your grandma is buried. I check on the grave every once in a while.” We piled into the car, and he walked us to the gravesite that he had been faithfully tending for decades, pointing out her parents and showing where he had weeded and cleaned the headstones. These were not his people–the ex-wife and in-laws of his father-in-law– yet he had considered what these graves might mean to someone and expanded his routine of tender compassion in order to include them when he visited the cemetery for his own family. My great-grandmother’s story had always been a sad one and still is, but my mother and I were both comforted by this man’s care for her long after her unhappy and premature death. I know that this experience is fairly undramatic. There is no supernatural miracle involved, and the sadness of my great-grandmother’s life has not been reversed. Yet, there is a measure of healing in the acts of love that continue her memory. Experiences like these are some of the strongest evidence I can think of for God’s grace. Why should I feel love for a great-grandmother whom I’ve never met? What logic is there in that? Yet, I do feel love, and so did my Uncle Ken, who showed that love through his actions. This story of tragedy and love reminds of the story of Jesus’s grandest miracle: raising Lazarus from the dead. Jesus knew that Lazarus was sick, but he waited until he was sure that he would be unquestionably dead when he arrived. By the time Jesus met Lazarus’s sisters, Martha and Mary, they had been in mourning for four days and were devastated. And let’s not forget Lazarus himself, who had suffered through his sickness, then experienced whatever it feels like to die. I have felt some frustration at this strange setup. Did Jesus prolong the suffering just so that the end miracle would be that much more glorious? Mary and Martha were heartbroken. They knew Jesus’s power and had a strong conviction that Lazarus would rise in the resurrection at some future date, but they both greeted Jesus with the same words “If thou hadst been here, my brother had not died,”[4] words of reproach and bewilderment at his abandonment of them. We all know the miracle that comes later, but I can’t fully explain the delay, except that in all this devastation I see evidence of grace. Mary and Martha were grief-stricken, but they were joined in their grief by Jesus. This is important. This chapter is famous for the shortest Bible verse: “Jesus wept.” But my favorite is the one that comes right after: “Then said the Jews, Behold how he loved him!”[5] Jesus performed his miracle for the glory of God, but perhaps in this scene, God’s glory and grace were just as accurately demonstrated through Jesus’s love for his friend. I wonder if Jesus would have been able to perform such a drastic miracle if he had not wept along with the tragedy of Lazarus’s death. His compassion and sorrow, even perhaps his personal sense of loss at being absent from his friend’s deathbed, seemed to be a necessary part of his experience that day. Our doctrine declares that Jesus was sinless but not that he was never weak. After all, humans are by nature weak, and he lived a human life. We feel pain, sadness, and uncertainty. It’s easy to see the grace in the miracle, but there is also grace in the compassion of Christ. Without this love, raising Lazarus would have been like a magic trick, empty of meaning, and not a true demonstration of God’s glory. Grace can exist not just in the unquestionably joyful moments of life, but because we live in a world where pain and joy, suffering, and relief are intertwined. Our LDS scripture links weakness and grace together and places grace in the context of our trials and troubles. In Ether 12:27, Moroni writes words that he hears the Lord speaking to him: “If men [and women] come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them. Behold, I will show unto the Gentiles their weakness, and I will show unto them that faith, hope and charity bringeth unto me—the fountain of all righteousness.” Grace is not just the solution at the end of it all; it is infused within the conflict of our life. But weakness makes grace possible. More importantly, recognition of weakness means grace can be more fully enacted. Love is at the root of it all, the thing that makes it worthwhile. Greeting the world with grace means encountering the people in it with love. In my life, human love has become a kind of evidence that there is divinity infused in this world of ours. Even when our human stories are laced throughout with disease and violence and trauma, we have the priceless opportunity to exercise faith in the eternal worth of others, to hope that goodness will outshine and outlast everything, and to love as much as we can. This is grace. [1] Romans 1:7 [2] Luke 1:28, 30 [3] Alma 33:21 [4] John 11:21, 32 [5] John 11:35-36

There’s a scripture you’ve probably heard referenced before. It’s in D&C 123:16 and it goes like this, “You know, brethren, that a very large ship is benefited very much by a very small helm.” What do you think of when you hear that scripture? Maybe like me, you think of the verse in Alma 37 that says “by small and simple things are great things brought to pass,” and that would be an appropriate interpretation. It’s true, those small and simple things, the Sunday school answers like taking the sacrament, reading your scriptures, regular temple attendance, and prayer are all small acts that lead to great things (Alma 37:6). Those are all very good things, but if you read the verses that come just before verse 16, Joseph Smith wasn’t talking about the good things. He was talking about the bad stuff. In verses 13-15 he says, “Therefore, that we should waste and wear out our lives in bringing to light all the hidden things of darkness, wherein we know them; and they are truly manifest from heaven—These should then be attended to with great earnestness. Let no man count them as small things; for there is much which lieth in futurity, pertaining to the saints, which depends upon these things.” When I first read that scripture, really read it for the first time, it blew my mind! It related so much to the advocacy work I do in helping to bring to light the medical errors and dishonest pharmaceutical practices which have injured countless people all over the world, my son and myself included. I have worn myself out educating patients, loved ones, and medical providers about the dangers of certain medications. I’ve shed blood sweat and tears teaching physicians how to safely help their patients wean off these medications and recover from their drug injuries. I’ve dedicated years of my life to reforming legislation, medical education, and media coverage when it comes to this subject. I thought that’s what these verses were talking about, and at the time, they were. But I didn’t truly understand the meaning of that excerpt until I read, really read, the next verse. “You know, brethren, that a very large ship is benefited very much by a very small helm in the time of a storm, by being kept workways with the wind and the waves ” (emphasis added). To be honest, I didn’t fully understand those last words until I did some research on boats and sailing. Firstly, if you’re like me and thought a helm was a rudder, just know that a ship’s helm is where the steering wheel and devices are on a ship. That should give you an idea of where my nautical knowledge was when I began my inquiry! Next, when you’re in a storm or the waves for whatever reason are getting bigger and bigger, it’s actually safer to steer your ship into the wave, rather than away from it. Although scary at first, if you do it right, this is actually easier on the ship and the person at the helm. Are you aware of the profound symbolism here yet? Just wait. When riding the wave, attempting to steer perfectly on course to your intended destination isn’t always the best option. It’s actually faster and creates less resistance if you’re willing to angle your ship just a bit and ride the face of the wave. This may seem counterintuitive, but you’ll actually have more control that way. It’s when you come to a calm spot that you correct course and head directly toward your goal again. Finally, going downhill from a big wave requires even more caution because, with the wave coming up from behind, the boat has a tendency to turn away from the wave. This puts the boat in a dangerous position. Again, the best course is to ride the wave all the way down until you reach calm waters. When I learned about sailing in relation to verse 16 I thought about the advice I always give to those who are suffering terribly with mental and physical pain from the drug injuries they’ve acquired. My advice is to accept, accept, accept. I have an entire video dedicated to acceptance. Accept that you’re disabled right now. Accept that you have a brain injury and may need to ask for help doing things like filling out forms and sorting through your mail. Accept that you might need to use one of those electric carts to go grocery shopping. Accept yourself as you are right now. Fighting to try to be the person you used to be when clearly you’re not will only make things harder. Fighting to live life the way you used to will interfere with the healing process. Besides, who knows? Maybe when this is all over your life will never be the same again, and maybe that’s a good thing! Verse 16 also got me thinking about my son’s diagnosed obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD). After his drug injury, Nathaniel developed severe OCD, to the point where he was afraid to drink water. It wasn’t about germs or handwashing, which is what most people think of when they think about OCD. No, his fear was about the pain he would experience from eating and drinking, and rightly so. My son’s injury left him with an autoimmune condition that can make eating, drinking, running, and playing very painful. While OCD is considered a form of anxiety, the therapy he and the other youth at the OCD clinic received looks very different from standard interventions. With exposure therapy, you rewire your brain by exposing yourself to your fears, over and over until your body learns to remain calm in the face of adversity. One way to do this is called “riding the wave.” When someone with OCD encounters a triggering experience, which can be anything from a loud noise to a rude comment, their instinct is to run away, go somewhere safe, or do something to neutralize the threat like repeating an action over and over. Counterintuitive to their instincts, they learn to go towards the threat, opening themselves up to it and to whatever physical symptoms or emotions they experience as a result. These kids are steering their boats into the waves! Avoiding the storms and waves of life is what creates OCD. It’s also what led to my drug injury. I was afraid, looking for a way to make the wind and waves disappear. (Ironically, steering your boat away from the storm and sailing in the other direction, is the exact opposite direction of your intended destination!) But Joseph Smith didn’t say that we should waste and wear out our lives in avoiding everything that’s bad in this world. He said we should bring them out into the open and attend to them “with great earnestness.” Since my drug injury, I have discovered many hidden things of darkness that are either a result of my experience or that inevitably led up to it. It’s taken years of prayer, fasting, gospel study, and journaling to acknowledge them. It’s taken courage to change course, accept what wisdom I could learn from those hidden things, and then bring them before my Heavenly Father so he could turn the darkness into light. It’s not all spiritual or emotional stuff either. A lot of my struggle is still physical. But I know that the atonement of Jesus Christ can just as miraculously and instantaneously heal my wounded body as it has my wounded heart. Now I understand. I will likely continue until the end of my voyage across the vast oceans of mortality, to bring to light the hidden things of darkness of this world. I will not steer my ship away from the wind and waves because I know it’s these powerful forces that propel me toward my destination. I mean, I’ve never seen an ocean without waves . . . have you? “Therefore, dearly beloved brethren, [and sisters] let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed” (D&C 123:17).

Aurelia Spencer Rogers was not impressed with the boys in her recently established community of Farmington, Utah. Words like “hoodlum” and “carelessness in the extreme, not only in regard to religion, but also to morality” were thrown around. She was sympathetic – she understood that after all the losses that occurred on the path to Zion and the hard work involved in establishing a new community, parents were exhausted and barely scraping by. But she felt the children’s needs were not being met, and she hoped for change. Her bishop placed the responsibility solely on the mothers’ shoulders and held a meeting to instruct them, but this didn’t sit right with Rogers. She understood that the united effort of parents was needed. As she pondered solutions, Rogers stated, “A fire seemed to burn within me . . . The query then arose in my mind could there not be an organization for little boys wherein they could be taught everything good, and how to behave?” Several weeks later, she met with Eliza R. Snow and Emmeline B. Wells, and she floated the idea of forming an organization for little boys that would train them to become better men. Snow liked the idea and brought it up with central church leadership. They supported its formation, and Rogers was asked by local leadership to form the first iteration of what would become the church’s Primary organization, serving both girls and boys. Inspiration flowed to Rogers as she designed the program. She stated, “While thinking over what was to be done for the best good of the children, I seemed to be carried away in the spirit, or at least I experienced a feeling of untold happiness which lasted three days and nights. During that time nothing could worry or irritate me . . . This was a testimony to me that what was being done was from God.” She called counselors and visited parents in the ward to learn about the children. She struggled with feelings of inadequacy, yet “felt to lean upon the Lord in all humility.” In the early stages of Primary, there was singing, struggling to get the children to actually sing during singing time (some things never change), instruction, child-length attention spans, testimony, enthusiasm, prayers, activities, goals, Primary Programs, and so much of what defines the Primary organization I adore today. Eliza R. Snow would eventually establish Primary organizations throughout the territory and call Louise Felt as the first General Primary President [1]. Aurelia Spencer Rogers teaches me so much about receiving and acting upon revelation. Aurelia Spencer Rogers Rogers modeled the principle of bottom-up revelation. She didn’t wait for someone with a title to do something about the problem that was worrying her. In fact, her bishop had already acted by offering what she defined as “good advice and counsel” to the mothers in the ward, but Rogers understood elements of the problem that her bishop had not considered. Because she looked at the problem from a broader range of angles, she went to God with different questions, and therefore received the inspiration her ward needed. Many beloved programs of our church came as a result of women who recognized a need in their community and followed revelation to act. Sarah Granger Kimball’s proposal for a sewing society for those building the temple inspired the formation of the Relief Society [2]. Emily H. Higgs’ concerns about urban working girls’ lack of opportunity for spiritual and psychological healing in nature led to the first Girls Camp [3]. Emma Smith’s comments about tobacco in the School of the Prophets led to the Word of Wisdom [4]. These women received revelation that set in motion a century-long pattern of seeking additional revelation to expand, redefine, and modify these programs and policies to meet the needs of current generations. Rogers teaches me that we all have different lived experiences which give us different perspectives, and we don’t need to be in a traditional leadership position to receive revelation to do the Lord’s work. Another way that Rogers teaches me is that she surrounded herself with leaders and talented individuals after receiving revelation and was humble throughout the process. Rather than feeling disappointed about his earlier handling of the problem, Rogers worked in harmony with her bishop, listening to his recommendations for individuals that could assist her in the work, and working together to address needs. She sought counsel from Eliza R. Snow and Emmeline Wells, who were powerhouses who knew how to build programs. When asked for her feedback on naming a General Primary President, she sought inspiration and recommended Louise Felt, never once feeling slighted that she had not been asked. She did not assume that because the Lord had spoken to her, He didn’t have anything else to say to others. After receiving revelation, she worked in harmony with other individuals who possessed different talents, perspective, stewardship, and revelation to help the program become what the Lord intended it to be. I love how Rogers’ experience demonstrates the value of our current council-based system for seeking revelation to do God’s work. Listening to others and working through councils multiplies the voices and perspectives that are considered as leaders approach the Lord for direction. As President Nelson reminds us, “good inspiration is based upon good information,” [5] and it is vital that we listen to diverse voices as we make decisions, as it forces us to expand our vision of what God’s answers can look like. Rogers reminds me of the value of humility in my church service, and how much better the results can be when I seek for unity with other leaders and interested parties to combine our personal revelation. Finally, I love how Rogers continuously recognized the necessity of revelation in looking for solutions, and how clearly she recognized the ways that God spoke to her. Revelation came because Rogers had already set a pattern of seeking inspiration and learning to identify and act on it. The revelation about the Primary organization was hardly her first experience listening to the Lord’s voice. In her Life Sketches , she recognizes again and again ways that the spirit nudged her throughout her life – the spirit bringing words to her mind that changed her perspective; receiving inspiration to know who to ask in times of trouble; and overwhelming feelings of peace that came when she counseled with the Lord. Because she had learned to listen to the spirit and act upon it, she was in a position to receive the revelation needed to establish the Primary program. Sometimes inspiration would freely flow, and sometimes God would remind her that He wanted her to study things out and propose solutions, but when it came, she knew what to do. Sister Michelle Craig’s 2019 conference address about receiving personal revelation provided practical advice for this process. I appreciated Craig’s counsel about intentionally carving out spaces in our lives where God can speak to us and keeping an open mind about what God is going to tell us [6]. Since hearing this talk, when God’s plans for me have differed from my own, I think about her observation about the Lord providing “a way” for Nephi, not “the way,” and I feel more willing to trust that God knows what He is doing by placing me where I am, and more capable of seeking what I am supposed to learn and accomplish there, rather than worrying about why I am not where I feel I should be. Rogers inspires me to strive to better understand how God speaks to me. And the more I hear President Nelson speak lately, the more urgent this process feels to me. He frequently challenges us to increase our capacity to receive revelation, and has used every women’s session of General Conference since being set apart to encourage women to ask for and act upon revelation from the Lord. In October 2018, he urged the women of the church to “pray to understand your spiritual gifts – to cultivate, use and expand them, even more than you ever have. You will change the world as you do so.” He also promised us that as we prayerfully study the Book of Mormon, “the heavens will open for you. The Lord will bless you with increased inspiration and revelation.” [7] In the 2019 women’s session, President Nelson reminded us that, “The heavens are just as open to women who are endowed with priesthood covenants as they are to men who bear the priesthood,” and continued, “I pray that truth will register upon each of your hearts because I believe it will change your life.” I especially loved his description of the process for seeking revelation about what priesthood power means in our lives. He says, “You won’t find this process spelled out in any manual. The Holy Ghost will be your personal tutor as you seek to understand what the Lord would have you know and do. This process is neither quick nor easy, but it is spiritually invigorating. What could possibly be more exciting than to labor with the Spirit to understand God’s power – priesthood power?” [8] While I still consider myself a novice at understanding what God wants to tell me, I can say the process of seeking revelation has become more meaningful to me as I am willing to view it as a learning process, rather than an informational transaction. As President Nelson stated, finding answers has often not been quick or easy for me. Frankly, much of the revelation I receive takes the form of God giving me meatier and more productive questions than the ones I started with. But the process of striving to understand God’s voice and build a relationship with Him has taught me truths about myself and how God feels about me, encouraged me to seek voices I would not have otherwise heard, forged meaningful relationships that have brought me closer to God, and made me a more effective disciple. To me, both messages burst with the truth that God wants us to more actively seek for revelation in our lives, and celebrate the joy, power, and influence for good that come when we do so. Women’s life circumstances vary greatly, and because of the many opportunities we have been given, we have more creative space to build our lives than we possessed in the past. Because we have so many paths to pursue, people that depend on us, and demands on our time, revelation is crucial to ensure that the way we live our lives lines up with the unique ministries God has given us. I feel that the prophet pushes us so hard to receive personal revelation because we cannot do the work God wants us to do if we are simply drifting along and handling whatever demands our attention most loudly. If we aren’t actively and regularly seeking understanding of our purpose, we will miss opportunities to find joy in doing God’s work. God had a work for Aurelia Spencer Rogers to do, and because she valued and sought revelation, she was able to do it. Her ministry has blessed thousands upon thousands of lives, and it reached its perfect state because she took action and actively sought revelation to bless those in her sphere of influence. [1] Aurelia S. Rogers, Life Sketches (1898). Available at https://archive.org/details/lifesketchesofor00rogerich [2] Sarah Granger Kimball, Autobiography, The Woman’s Exponent 12:7, September 1 1883, available at https://contentdm.lib.byu.edu/digital/collection/WomansExp/id/10845 [3] Emily H. Higgs, May W. Cannon, Sadie G. Pack, “Liberty Glen Camp.” The Young Woman’s Journal, Volume 24, page 31-34. Published 191. [4] “The Word of Wisdom,” Revelations in Context, available at https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/manual/revelations-in-context/the-word-of-wisdom?lang=eng [5] “Revelation for the Church, Revelation for our Lives.” Russell M. Nelson, April 2018 General Conference https:// www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2018/04/revelation-for-the-church-revelation-for-our-lives?lang=eng [6] “Spiritual Capacity,” Michelle Craig, October 2019 General Conference, available at https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2019/10/15craig?lang=eng [7] “Sisters Participation in the Gathering of Israel,” Russel M. Nelson, October 2018 General Conference, available at https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/general-conference/2018/10?lang=eng [8] “Spiritual Treasures,” President Russell M. Nelson, October 2019 General Conference, available at https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2019/10/36nelson?lang=eng

Throughout my life I have read from this book many times. This book is about families. The stories of immigrant families. Families fleeing war, death threats, slavery, and wanting a refuge and a better life for their children. Families that love each other, families that split apart. Families that are separated for centuries and then find each other again. It’s about culture, heritage, and genealogy. It’s a book about the Americas, but mostly it is a book about Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ is a healer, a protector, a liberator, a friend. Every time I read it, it is full of new things I had never thought about before. I love the the Book of Mormon. It is a peaceful place in the world. It is a reminder of what is important and how to treat others. There is a children’s song that sums up the Book of Mormon perfectly “Lamanites met others who were seeking liberty, And the land soon welcomed all who wanted to be free. Book of Mormon stories say that we must brothers be…” Michelle Franzoni Thorley is a self-taught artist who has claimed power through embracing her Mexican-American heritage and her experiences as an LDS woman artist. She is passionate about plants, family history, and the stories of women. Her work and words can be found on Instagram at @florafamiliar.

For my entire life, I would say that one of my core identities has been “I am a believer.” As a result, I have been called naive, brainwashed, stupid, and more. But, for me, there is just no doubt that my Father and Mother in Heaven exist, that They love me, and that They are all powerful and benevolent. So . . . where’s the problem? I had always thought that faith—for me—was simple. I believed in God. And I thought that the older I got the more faith I would have. It seemed as straightforward as getting taller. And that plan held me for a good number of years. But, then, the clearest, most powerful, answer to prayer I ever received also led me to the hardest place of my life. (Understatement.) The fallout from that means that rather than just being a believer I feel more like a battle-scarred PTSD believer. I believe—I just flinch and take cover at any loud noises from the universe. This journey forced me to reevaluate my faith. And the questions came . . . Do I have faith? Yes. I thought so. Before . . . I felt betrayed by my willingness to follow God’s plan for me. And so I had to dig in deeper. I had to ignore the circumstances and examine only myself . . . because, ultimately, my faith is only for me. It is MY faith. My identity. Who I would be in this world. But I needed to know . . . What is faith? To be a person of faith, what do I need to believe? What does a universe look like without faith? So I started asking, and answering. Do I still believe that God exists? Yes. This may seem straightforward—unless you have been to India. I talked to a new friend who told me that visiting India gave her a faith crisis. She could not reconcile the God she had believed in with the state of humanity she saw all around her. I knew exactly what she meant. Before I actually lived in India, I use to travel here once a year for about a decade. I found that visiting India gave me a soul-scrubbing. Time here was a wake-up call of humility. It was clear to me that the universe was more expansive/complicated/grand/insane than I had ever realized. After time in India, it was clear I knew absolutely nothing about the mysteries of God and the workings of the universe. I had nothing under control. And I think this is actually closer to our real state of being than the facade I built the rest of the year—that I was an adult capable of paying the bills, holding a conversation, and managing my junk. When an electric light switch always flips on when you hit the switch, you begin to think you’ve got it. For me, India was the peeled back true scene—I got nothing. So, literally, THANK GOD that our Heavenly Parents exist and life can be in their purview rather than any laughable attempt at being under mine. (And this even goes for my own life—not just an entire subcontinent.) Which leads me to . . . Do I believe my Heavenly Parents are all-loving, all-powerful, benevolent beings? Yes. Again, not as simple as what you might first think. When you see the chaos and suffering of a place and of individuals, can you still believe in an all-powerful, all benevolent God? I can. But only because I was able to come to terms with the fact that my definitions of what might be important in this life, are clearly NOT their definitions. And as soon as I was not the one in charge of defining things, then I could submit to divine definitions. So, my western ideas about moving bit by bit to a more comfortable existence was clearly NOT the point of life. If Heavenly Parents are all-powerful, benevolent beings, then it was okay if some people lived without electricity and some people had electricity. I don’t mean okay as in “okay, no need to help, it’s their karmic destiny to suffer” but I mean okay as in “do what you can to help others while understanding that this life is a small moment . . . and there is a more nuanced system than just your own evaluation of what a good or bad deal in this life might be.” And, this brings up— what kind of person am I?!?! That while all these people live such truly hard lives, I have a life of privilege, and I am still thinking I feel scarcity? That I got a raw deal? Am I just a true jerk? Which leads me to . . . Do I believe They love me? Yes. This was actually the most unmoving of all my questions. I have experienced the love of my Heavenly Parents too many times to have any doubt of this. I am loved. Just like They love everyone. Even in my jerkiness, or any other-ness. I am loved as I am. But, then, I hit the kicker. Do I believe in Their plans for me? Their vision of me? Of what I could manage and thrive in? Um, no. Not always. Actually, not at all. And that answer put me into all sorts of trouble. The first is that I had an identity freak out. THIS IS NOT ME. I am a believer. What happens when that identity is no longer the truth? It is a very uncomfortable place. In fact, I would say I went for a solid year not believing in Their plan for me. Like, thinking God was straight-up crazy. (I am frank with God in my prayers and also frank in my apologies for statements like that. It is true, I have felt that way. I have thought God is crazy. I also recognize that a mere scrap of a human being thinking that of the Almighty Supreme Beings of the Universe is beyond ridiculous. However, sometimes, I AM beyond ridiculous. And I figure authenticity means more in prayers than partially-fabricated niceties.) Why is God crazy? Because somehow my Heavenly Parents think I can do THIS. For many of us, the fill-in-the-blank THIS can take any number of forms. THIS is whatever our soul-stretching situation happens to be. Health, family, finances, abuse, mental health, war, deprivation . . . it can be anything. And getting to the other side of THIS can literally kill us, absolutely emotionally kill us, can debilitate us . . . and sometimes we don’t even get to the other side. That is a very raw place to be in. And, for me, brutally unsustainable. It was the worst place I have ever experienced. Not the actual experience I was having, but the lack of trust in my Heavenly Parents. In fact, it started with not trusting my Heavenly Father. HE had been the one to answer my prayer, so all THIS was on Him. And, then, in the course of researching and writing and thinking about our new book A Girl’s Guide to Heavenly Mother , I realized that wasn’t fair. If I actually believe the doctrine that God is our Heavenly Parents united and I believe They model that perfectly, then it wasn’t fair to blame only Him. I could blame Them both. (!) But, I had a very strong spiritual experience with my Heavenly Mother where I saw the merest glimpse of Her majesty, power, AND LOVE for Her children . . . and I couldn’t blame either of Them. It was time to examine my process to see how I got to this place of destitution. And so I stepped back and thought . . . how was I able to get an answer to a prayer in the first place? Oh, right. I turned to God. WITH GOD, all things are possible. I, quite literally, did not have to do THIS on my own. I did not even have to be that person They thought I could be, on my own. In fact, I simply could not. I was reading a book by Marianne Williams and she says, “The physical body is at work every moment, an array of mechanisms with a brilliance of design and efficiency our human efforts have never begun to match. Our hearts beat, our lungs breathe, our ears hear, our hair grows. And we don’t have to make them work— they just do. Planets revolve around the sun, seeds become flowers, embryos become babies, and with no help from us. Their movement is built into a natural system. You and I are integral parts in the system, too. We can let our lives be directed by the same force that makes the flowers grow— or we can do it ourselves. To trust in the force that moves the universe is faith. Faith isn’t blind, it’s visionary. Faith is believing the universe is on our side, and the universe knows what it is doing.”¹ And with that realization, I felt my whole universe shift back into focus. I had clarity. And I was reminded about a fervent plea I put up, once upon a time. I had been grouchy. I wanted to know why my courtship had to be such a ludicrously demanding process. And I was praying and saying, “Father, WHY did you do it this way?!?! You could have done it like this . . . and this . . . and then everything would have been so much more peaceful. Why did you do it like THIS?” (THIS being a place of trial and pain and cognitive dissonance.) And, this is the answer I got then, that I thought would be burned in my soul, that I would remember forever (but I didn’t). “I could have done it like that. And you would have gotten your husband. THIS way, you get him and ME.” And I was stunned. Because, Heavenly Father was right. Because of the insanity of the situation, I had been forced to turn to God in a more robust way than I ever had. I quite literally found I couldn’t breathe my way through many days and situations without a constant prayer in my heart. I was fasting once a week. I was pleading with my Father to be with me. AND HE WAS. Let that sink in. HE WAS. My answer to prayer was that it was not the process that mattered, it was that I got a relationship with my Father in Heaven. It changed who I became. But, after I turned to God, and made the choice, did I KEEP turning to God? I don’t think so. I got busy being in survival mode—and that had led to this place of destitution. So why do I have faith? What does this mean? A friend of mine once gave a superb talk in sacrament meeting about having faith to follow God. And he talked about a couple of examples in his life where he was promised something or followed God’s prompting, and then things didn’t turn out quite as he would have thought he had the right to expect. He was set apart before he left on his mission with a prayer that said his family would be blessed for his service—and his parents divorced while he was on his mission. He felt prompted to send his mother all the money he had left for food one month—and the money never reached his mother. And he talked about the reason we do things is not because faith is a transaction— I do THIS, so I get THIS. We live with faith because it changes who we are. And, I think that’s the whole point. I, quite simply, cannot be the person I am intended to be without my Heavenly Parents’ love, guidance, and gift of Their Son. The definition of GOOD—a good place, a good decision, a good quality of life—is not actually what we have or experience, it is WHO WE ARE BECOMING. So how do we become faithful? I think, because I did not turn to God in the way I should have, my THIS did not make me a better person. I am working on that. And so I turned to people to see how they had done it. A friend had a similar faith-trying experience. Interestingly, she said her niece had just declared her to be a “woman of great faith”— and this did not surprise me. That is exactly why I wanted to talk with her. So I asked her about her faith, and she immediately had wisdom. “For me, faith is my belief and my actions . . . ” and that struck me. Faith is not JUST believing as I had been defining it, but ACTING on that belief. I have been traveling a lot this year and I have seen many places of faith. One such place was a monastery on top of a very tall mountain. The choice, alone, to put the energy and resources into building up there was stunning. That is not just faith believing, but faith ACTING. It took some monks a lot of years to haul a lot of rock to build this place of faith. And so I considered— How do I act in faith, TODAY? I am trying a few things: I started acting like I had faith in me. I started acting like I was the person my Heavenly Parents somehow think I am. I started handling the hard parts with the faith that I COULD handle the hard parts. Frankly, I am faking it. I know I am not that person . . . right now. But I am trying to believe in Their vision that perhaps I can become that person, that I will survive to be that person.   I spend time (even long-distance or over email or whatnot) with people who see me as a believer. This reinforces that I was once. And can be again.   I go to church. It seems simple, but it puts me in a place where there is a collective belief. A collective faith. The monks were onto something to put their church high on the mountain so all in the valley could turn upwards and be reminded. In India, a congregation of Latter-day Saints is 430 miles away—a flight or overnight train or 15-hour drive. I have missed it. Now, while traveling, I am able to prioritize attending church—not easy, but rewarding.   I started a god-journal. I needed a place to remind myself (for the days when I did not believe so easily) that I am loved by Heavenly Parents and that They care about my life. Little things that felt like I had been touched by the divine— like how we found my daughter’s stuffed dog in the airport when I thought it was long gone or I was late and found a parking place. And big things like how my sisters were able to come visit. Because, I forget. And these little moments just slide by into long ago (like things that happened ten minutes ago to a month to years) and I forget to carry that cocoon of divine love with me. If I can forget such an answer to prayer as the bold declaration of “this way you get ME,” what else am I forgetting along the way? How can remembering bolster me?   And, gratitude. I was always taught to start a prayer with saying thank you, but now I really pause and think and make a long list—and keep going—of very specific things I can be grateful for. Sunshine. (We got a lot of that.) Hygienic food. (Always a boon in my life.) A healthy child. (Healthcare in India is not close to reliable.) Beads. (Because, well, I am.) A sometimes-functional internet. (That lets me connect with people who live in other places and enables my work.) Google docs. (Ditto.) The color coral. (I smile now just thinking of that color.) And the list can go on and on . . .   So, am I a believer again? Perhaps, today, all I need to do is choose to say, “Yes.” And then TURN TO GOD. ¹  Marianne Williamson A Return to Love . HarperOne

Jesus can help us make real changes in every season of our lives. His words are the same, but each time we read them, our lives are different. Translating His words into the context of our lives requires persistence and patience across days, months, and years to become the best version of ourselves. When I was a grumpy 14 year old, I wanted to be happier so I decided to read The Book of Mormon, Another Testament of Jesus Christ . I plunked through it on my own and  six months later I discovered an invitation at the end of the book that felt like it was sent to me personally. Moroni said if I would remember God’s mercy to all of His children and me and then ask Him to know if the words I had read were true, the Holy Ghost would show me the truth. I asked Him and His response was unexpected. I had a flood of flashbacks to moments when I had been less cranky at home, laughed with my parents more, reached out to someone at school who needed a friend, volunteered for hard things, talked to God more honestly. Most of God’s evidence is anonymous so we have to consider Willa Cather’s wisdom, “Miracles rest on our perceptions being made finer so we can see what was with us all the while.” Every time we choose to open the words of Christ, we open our heart to Him. God’s subtle Spirit translates His text into our daily lives and gives us eyes to see His divine authorship in our story. And then we become the miracle.

Out of the thousands of books I have read, I love this one the most. I have read and re-read this text many times and learned new principles to apply to my current struggles every time. The Book of Mormon reminds me that God loves each one of his children, that Christ is the Savior of this earth and that through righteous choices, people can live happy, fulfilled lives in this life and the next. The best way to read this book is by keeping an open mind, asking questions, and praying about it. You can read Moroni 10:3-5 which is the Lord’s promise to those who want to know the true nature of God and His Gospel. May you enjoy this book and the truths it holds. It will change your life for the better.

In 2016 I had a series of events that created spiritual doubt and skepticism in me. I never struggled with my faith before, but found myself skeptical of certain principles and worried that the Latter-day Saint faith was more based off of “blind faith” than truth. Then in 2017 I came across online reading about the Church and its history that completely rocked my world. My already crumbling foundation was ripped from under me. I literally could not believe in the Church anymore. It was as if someone had proven to me the high unlikelihood of the Church being true. I tried talking with my husband about my concerns, but he didn’t see things the same way. It quickly put a horrible wedge between us and our marriage. It was clear that we were going to be in a mixed-faith marriage and needed to figure out how to navigate that. I felt extremely misunderstood. I know he did too. Our communication suffered greatly in the beginning and it tested our limits. I also quickly learned that online support group forums were not going to be healthy for me or our marriage. I couldn’t allow myself to become bitter. But I also didn’t feel like I had anyone healthy to communicate with about all of my concerns, to help me navigate this new life, or to figure out what in the world I even believed in at that point. I knew I was still a good person, but I was aware of how lonely, lost, and broken I felt inside. I had no foundation. Very quickly, I even began to conclude that there must not be a God. Or if there was one, it was a God that didn’t care about or love us. How could one justify watching and allowing all the terrible things in the world? In 2018, my health began to decline. It started out with small strange symptoms, that quickly snowballed into a drowning of overwhelming darkness. I truly felt like I was dying 24/7. I didn’t sleep—muscles burning and constant panic attacks left me feeling completely brain dead. Doctors couldn’t find anything wrong on my blood tests, but I knew that something was seriously wrong. I intuitively began looking into more holistic health approaches, which ironically went against everything I had founded myself upon the year prior since I only trusted in what science could prove. But western medicine wasn’t giving me the answers I needed, and I knew I was ill on so many levels. Looking back I now recognize where angels and God were directing me towards my path of healing. I had surgery to remove breast implants that I had earlier, and afterwards found myself better in some areas but worse in others. I had entered a dark place I didn’t know existed, and I frequently considered suicide. It was here that I had to dig deep to find faith in something bigger than me. I needed God to be real. As I made tiny steps of faith—and I mean tiny—the evidence of God was made known to me. In my darkest days, His light and miracles shone through and pierced my sinking, lost soul. One of my most sacred moments was when I was able to reconnect to the Atonement and Jesus Christ. It was a very personal experience that showed me just how much the Lord knew me individually, and how I would learn. How real the Atonement is, and His ability to heal. It rebuilt my crumbled foundation stronger than ever and I began to hold onto Jesus as my lifeline. It was the hardest healing journey I have ever gone through, but I had miracle upon miracle that lifted me up and quite literally molded me into a completely different person. I am healed from all of my symptoms, and have emerged from this experience stronger than I could have ever imagined before. But one thing I can and always will testify of is that Christ lives and does heal. He needs to be our foundation first and foremost. All other principles are supportive to His love and His Atonement. If we can deeply root ourselves in Christ, all other questions and doubts will eventually fall into place.

I left the Church due to an unhappy marriage and divorce and certain people in the local Church leadership. I never lost my testimony of God or Jesus Christ, just distrust in the Church.   Then I met my soulmate and love of my life. We were happily married for 30 plus years.  He had some experience with the Church but was not a member. We were extremely close and happy. We occasionally attended other churches but they seemed hollow to me. About 25 years into the marriage he became sick and it progressed to the end. I cared for him in those years. We discussed many times our desire to be together in the next life. I know people who are not members of the Church who truly believe they will be together. Because of growing up in the Church, that was hard for me to believe. I kept denying that the end was so close, but I finally asked him “If I get busy after you pass and do the temple work for you, will you accept it so we can be together in the next life?” He fully agreed.   That is what brought me back to church activity. I can’t bear the fact that we wouldn’t be together, so his work is done and I am active in my ward which fully supports me. My children and siblings have been fully supportive also. I must say I am thankful to the Savior for his Atonement and love.