#ministering

Wait until God instructs you to serve someone who has hurt you, bless someone who has betrayed you, and minister to the very people who have salted your name. Are you humble enough?

Her: oh ill just come to you then!

Me:

So on Sunday I got to meet officially my Ministering Brothers (for any non-members, that’s basically two guys who are assigned to be your friend and help you out if you need anything.) So they came over to my apartment to get to know me and it was a pretty good experience, we made small talk about our missions, majors, and hobbies.

Then one of them turned to me and asked “How can we best minister to you?”

Which, there are a lot of ways to answer that question, I started with some generic stuff, but I felt that saying more was not a bad idea. So I turned to one of them and said, “Also, I’ve noticed that you are quite the advocate for being inclusive to LGBT people at church,” he had given a talk about charity and spent a significant amount of time on the topic, and made at least 2 comments about it in Sunday School classes that I had noticed, “so, if you could just keep doing that, that would be great.”

He nodded appreciatively, then asked, “What’s your experience?” Which I think was a genius way to respond and invite me to open up without making me feel pressured into saying anything I was uncomfortable with. 

“I”m Bi,” I told them, knowing that I could trust them to be understanding. The response was “cool, our roommate is bi.” 

We proceeded to talk a little about the difficulty of being a queer member of the church, the relative progress that has been made, and the hopes we have for the future. We didn’t get into anything specific, but it was just good to know that these were people who I could talk about this stuff with. 

“We all have our struggles,” one of the brothers said, “And some of us are out and open about them and some of us aren’t. And both are ok.”

“And no matter what, Heavenly Father knows what our struggles are, and He will help us.” I replied with a smile.

And then we continued discussing hobbies and interests and getting to know one another. 

“ TENDER MERCIES FROM HEAVEN, A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE”

This Christmas Season has been quite incredible with tender mercies from my Heavenly Father of which I am so grateful. So grateful in fact, that my heart has been overflowing with love this entire season.

My children live all over the nation and as I have thought about each of them with a melancholy heart missing them so, it is natural that my thoughts in turn, focused on my two sons on the other side and how much I miss them. Each of my children are so good, kind and loving to me, that I am constantly in awe at the love they pour out towards me, even though I cannot see them as often as I want to. They make my heart happy.

This past month I have had a myriad of special things happen to me that are highly unusual in my world. They are simple things really. Normally one would not think twice about such things, however as these little blessings continued to happen in an unusual abundance I wondered what was going on and felt very special. They were little things like getting massive discounts on movie seats and treats, receiving an $80 coupon for a coveted item at my favorite shop, a very special letter came in the mail about my daddy who crossed through the veil some 20 years ago (now that was something!), a completely unexpected gift from a general friend who was waiting for me as I walked out of a building, ministering angels (those who wear bodies) from an exquisite art show filled with love of the Savior, to simple kindnesses from others in whose paths crossed mine. Of course, I try to be kind and loving in return – always, however all of these things piled up upon each other, continuing to happen to me as I muddled through each day with a prayer deep in my heart and love and kindness for my sweet Jesus on my mind.

Things culminated as I was at the JSMB building writing (working) listening to the choirs that came from all over the valley to perform and sing Christmas Carols in the beautiful one-hundred-and-eight-year-old ornate lobby while sitting on the velvet settee with my work spread out all over the marble table. I saw a sweet elderly sister missionary cross the lobby floor after speaking with someone. She looked so beautiful as I watched her walk toward the elevator. She was in a lovely white ankle flowing skirt and blouse with the most gorgeous multicolored crocheted vest worn over the blouse. The yarn loops were loose so the white beneath could be seen. The lavenders, light greens, soft blues and white were stunning. I remember smiling as I saw how beautiful she looked and then she was gone. I continued to write and work on my Irish case. I decided I was going to quit at 4:30 and reward myself with a spiritual uplift of watching “Mr. Kruger’s Christmas” in the gorgeous large theater room with the plush seats. I felt that would be a rewarding way to end the workday.

I walked upstairs and headed down the hall to the theater with a very loving full heart and lo and behold, the missionary that greeted me was the sweet lady in the colorful vest and lovely flowing white skirt! I was quite surprised at this after seeing her downstairs a little earlier. Up close, I could see a colorful owl pendant that was about 2 inches in length in the same colors as her vest, pinned in the center of the vest to hold it closed. It was beautiful! I spoke up and told her how lovely her outfit was and especially the vest with the owl pendant to top it off. She thanked me and told me her daughter in Alaska crocheted the vest for her and she had received so many compliments on the vest and owl today, so many so that she was really surprised. I responded that I could understand why and her daughter must love her very much. I proceeded to tell her how special owls were to me.

You see, after my second son Luke had had a tragic accident at the dairy and had crossed through the veil to Heaven, I received little messages of his safety and love. In fact, it was made known to me that both my sons were watched over, cared for, and very very fine and happy-after all, it was Heaven! The cemetery was one block from my house. For many many nights, I had trouble sleeping. I would wake about 2 AM, and remain awake for several hours. In the quiet of the night, I could hear a hoot owl calling. The night was so still and calm and peace permeated the air rich with consoling tranquility. I fell in love with the wise old owl immediately. I had to find him, to see him, so I could thank him for this sweet music in the middle of the night when I was alone with my grief. I was on a quest! Day after day, when I had a moment alone, I went for walks in the cemetery trying to spot the owl. One day, just a jaunt up from my son‘s grave was a row of very old pioneer graves, about four or five tall narrow stones with a type of pineapple shaped top, all in a row. These stones had been there for about a hundred-and-twenty-five years. As I walked towards the boys’ graves passing the old stalwart tall stones with the pineapple tops, there was the hoot owl! He was perched on the second stone watching ME. I stopped dead in my tracks. I was alone in the cemetery-not another person in sight. He had obviously seen me long before I saw him. He was beautiful, white feathers speckled with browns of varying shades. I quietly begin talking to the wise old owl. I thanked him for watching over my boys and staying up all night to protect these children of mine. He kept looking at me, then blinking those big black eyes of his, looked to the right towards Luke’s grave and back at me. I told him how consoling his hoot-call was in the night, music to my ears, and I felt at peace with the turn of events. I knew this beautiful creature understood me and was a messenger for my boys, Luke and Matthew, telling me not to worry that all is well and as it should be. This wise old owl blessed my heart.

I shared this story with my new friend and we both shed a few tears. I went to find my seat in the auditorium and was waiting for the Christmas film to start when I saw the sweet lady come my way. I was surprised that she was coming straight to me. When she reached me, she promptly stated with a smile on her face, “Open your hands.“

I could see her hands closed tightly. I thought she was smuggling me chocolate, haha! When I opened my hands she dropped her beautiful colorful owl pendant into my hands. Tears immediately sprang to my eyes as I shook my head and firmly remarked, “I cannot possibly accept this pendant from you. Your daughter in Alaska made this vest for you and this pendant is perfect! It is special to you! Everyone loves it and it goes with your lovely outfit!“

She instantly responded, “I was prompted to give this to you and you will take it.“

At that moment I knew my two sons, Luke and Matthew, were right there and telling me this gift of the owl and all the tender mercies (which I thought at first was simply good luck since I was an Irish lass) were from them and they were trying to convey they received permission from our great Lord and Savior to come and visit me (yes, ‘lil ‘ole ME!) this season and give this humble little mother a Christmas gift of love from them. (Which in turn, I realized just how much Heavenly Father and sweet Jesus love me to give me this gift of my sons near me.)

Many people have served as ministering angels in their behalf over the past few weeks, but it took this sweet senior missionary to go the extra mile communicating with me and acting on her prompting, for me to realize what was going on. I will always be beholden to her for listening to my sons and being close enough to the Holy Spirit to hear and act. She is a wonderful example to me.

Since this event last week, tender mercies have continued to happen to me, and my heart is still filled to the brim with such love that it cannot be contained and spills over. I just pull into myself and feel the love of my sons, my Lord, my children who graciously remain on this side of the veil, grateful for all of my blessings.

It is so easy during the Holidays to feel sad and lonely, but this season I feel so much love and so blessed, so so grateful for these tender mercies from Heaven. I watch daily for opportunities to pass this love along in some small way and give to another in an effort to show my gratitude and love to my Heavenly Father and sweet baby Jesus. For all of these things I am so grateful.

Devotional for August 4

It is finished: and he bowed his head, and gave up the ghost.

Jesus the author and finisher of our faith. — I have glorified thee on the earth: I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do. — We are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. And every priest standeth daily ministering an offering oftentimes the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins: but this man, after he had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right hand of God; from henceforth expecting till his enemies be made his footstool. For by one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified. — Blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us, which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to his cross.

I lay down my life, that I might take it again. No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. — Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.