A bit ago, my husband and I had the opportunity to attend a Q&A with Elder Holland. Suffice it to say it was more than an amazing and rich experience, but more, I left feeling so impressed at Elder Holland’s—and for that matter, his wife’s—ability to administer to the one. Whenever anyone in the small gathering said anything, he dealt with their feelings so tenderly, and cried with them, and loved them in empathetic tones reminiscent of the Savior, when he blessed the children one by one, and when he healed so profusely and intimately in the Gospels.
I left knowing how much our Heavenly Father loves each of us, and knowing how much he is mindful of us individually. He knows exactly what each of us need, daily, and all we need to do to access this power is listen, and ask, and act.
My dear friend’s sweet mother received a terminal cancer diagnosis in early October. They learned that the time was short and they would likely only have a couple of months left together on this earth. My friend was understandably distraught as she contemplated the reality of death in her life and listened to the Saturday morning session of General Conference in tears. President Uchtdorf’s talk, “Of Regrets and Resolutions” prompted her to go and see her mother immediately, a small task she hadn’t felt emotionally up to. She spent a bit of time with her mom, and gratefully, because her mother passed away that night, during the Priesthood session of Conference. Forever will my friend be grateful of the mindfulness that Heavenly Father had for her specifically, and that she acted upon it, able to see her mother one last time, alive.
This morning I drove up to the temple in the solid black of winter mornings and because I’m not the best with really good praying in the morning (or at night for that matter), I tend to pray in the car. A lot. I woke up with a heavy and fearful heart that was tinged with unknowing. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by possibilities, sometimes the thought of my easy, lovely life scares me, sometimes things seem too good, sometimes I find myself holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, preemptively worrying about nothing, so I prayed against that, for light.
I felt the peace flow into me immediately and was struck again and again at the mention of my blessings being sealed to me. They are mine, and mine forever. Whatever happens on this earth, the components that mark my easy lovely life—my babies, my husband, my family, the truths—aren’t going anywhere.
And later, I left the temple in the encroaching gray light, the promise of morning. A pinky sunrise.
I know that Heavenly Father loves us. I know he is mindful of us in every regard. I know that what’s important to us is important to him, not matter how little it may seem in regard to the eternities