Sandy Hook: "Evil did not win."

I meant to post this last week, between David's anniversary and the Sandy Hook anniversary - very close dates - but I'm just barely getting to it now. What a sweet and wonderful message this video brings to us. May you feel the spirit strong as you watch and listen. Our loved ones live on in heaven and want us to enjoy our lives on this earth.

On Scars

Today we mark two years since the painful scar of David’s death.  Our hearts will never be the same.   But the scars are healing a little bit each day.  I feel closer to my Savior through this experience. 

I have had so many healing balms since December 9, 2011.  We all have.  I am so grateful to see the many ways our Heavenly Father has blessed our family in the past two years. 

A few months following David’s death, a few of us attended a conference for the families of organ donors.  One of the speakers was Molly Jackson, who lost her two year old daughter, Lucy.  Her speech was about scars, and can be found here:

http://www.agoodgrief.com/blog.php?id=910

I wanted to share it here and I’ve bolded some of my favorite parts.

 

 

Tonight I'd like to talk about scars. Some seen, most unseen. I know everyone in this room has them. I want to tell you a little about mine.

Of course I have the usual scars one accumulates during childhood--a small scar on my upper right eyelid from the gash I probably deserved after falling off the bed and onto the medal bed frame at 2 yrs. old. I was monkeying around of course.

Or the scar on my knee I earned in college while midnight rollerblading the streets of Provo and hitting an unforeseen patch of gravel.

I have the small and unseen scars of past unrequited loves and deep disappointments, loneliness, and hurt.

But nothing compares to the scars I live with now. The scars that only those of us who have lost a loved one can understand. Sometimes we're the only ones who can ever see them or recognize them in others.

Before I tell you too much about how I got my deepest scars, I want to share a quote with you from a book I recently finished called, Little Bee. Little Bee is a Nigerian girl who witnessed and survived horrific tragedy in her country, as well as enduring 2 years inside a British Immigration Detention Center. She implores the reader, ""I ask you right here to please agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret."

The soul-searing pain and opening of my psychological wounds began on a beautiful Sunday in May of 2008. After primping for church and finally making it out the door with my soon-to-be 2 yr. old daughter, Lucy, we sat restlessly in our pew for as long as we could manage before needing to taker her energetic bundle out to the foyer for distraction and consoling.

When we realized she wasn't going to settle down and got her strapped in her car seat to leave, I handed her a small Tupperware of thinly sliced apples. That's when she began to choke. That's when i called for my husband and he administered the Heimlich maneuver. That's when my eyes locked with hers for the last time. That's when friends and medical professionals poured out of the church building to assist us and eventually the life-flight helicopter landed and whisked her body away.

That's when I knew I would never be the same. The irreversible wounds would become scars I'd carry the rest of my life.

But the deepest cut came when I held my daughter in my arms and the organ harvesting team wheeled us down the hallway to the yellow line where I gave my daughter's body away. I knew that scar would be the most beautiful.

I heard later, after Lucy's grandmothers reverently dressed her for the burial, of the long and precise scars on her body where her perfect little organs were extracted to save the lives of other scarred and scared souls.

Not only do her recipients share her organs--they share her scars.

For every grieving face I see her tonight, there is another living face out there in the world--sharing the scars of your loved ones.

In 7 short weeks I am due to give birth to a little girl on my Lucy's birthday. Bringing her into the world will be painful and no doubt, leave some scarring. But the beauty that comes with this new life will be worth the pain. A healing balm.

I knew everyone here tonight has scars. Deep wounds that are still very tender and raw...still bleeding even. Others perhaps have "tightened" and hardened over the years--but they are there.

I want you to remember our earlier agreement we made with Little Bee about our scars being beautiful. Sometimes people have to look away because they see too much beauty and we can't blame them.

So be proud of your scars. And the MORE-THAN-HONORABLE scars left on the bodies of those we love and buried.

THERE WILL BE HEALING. You will experience your own healing balms in your life that will help soothe the sting.

Have faith that your scars will become more elastic and you will be able to bend and stretch and live your life with greater range of motion--embracing the scars you share with your departed and knowing you hold a beauty, wisdom, perspective, gift, and knowledge--that the scar-less will never know.

I am grateful for the scars David’s body has from his organ donations.  We have been in contact with some of these people who are grateful to be alive today because of his gift.  We hope to share their stories in the months to come. 

I love you David, and I’m so thankful to be your sister.

Being Thankful while Grieving

Happy Thanksgiving to all we love and care for! This time of year can be hard to those who are grieving the loss of a loved one. My father in law is helping his dear brother right now who recently lost his wife and he shared this article with us. I really appreciated the sentiment of the author and also the comments that the readers left beind. So if you have some time, click through to the original post and read the comment section.

Its hard to recognize the blessings that come our way through loss, but eventually they are felt. I am thankful for that strength.

Love to all

http://identityrenewed.com/2013/11/21/15-things-i-wish-id-known-about-grief/

After a year of grief, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve also made some mistakes along the way. Today, I jotted down 15 things I wish I’d known about grief when I started my own process.

I pass this onto anyone on the journey.

1. You will feel like the world has ended. I promise, it hasn’t. Life willgo on, slowly. A new normal will come, slowly.

2. No matter how bad a day feels, it is only a day. When you go to sleep crying, you will wake up to a new day.

3. Grief comes in waves. You might be okay one hour, not okay the next. Okay one day, not okay the next day. Okay one month, not okay the next. Learn to go with the flow of what your heart and mind are feeling.

4. It’s okay to cry. Do it often. But it’s okay to laugh, too. Don’t feel guilty for feeling positive emotions even when dealing with loss.

5. Take care of yourself, even if you don’t feel like it. Eat healthily. Work out. Do the things you love. Remember that you are still living.

6. Don’t shut people out. Don’t cut yourself off from relationships. You will hurt yourself and others.

7. No one will respond perfectly to your grief. People–even people you love–will let you down. Friends you thought would be there won’t be there, and people you hardly know will reach out. Be prepared to give others grace. Be prepared to work through hurt and forgiveness at others’ reactions.

8. God will be there for you perfectly. He will never, ever let you down. He will let you scream, cry, and question. Throw all your emotions at Him. He is near to the brokenhearted.

9. Take time to truly remember the person you lost. Write about him or her, go back to all your memories with them, truly soak in all the good times you had with that person. It will help.

10. Facing the grief is better than running. Don’t hide from the pain. If you do, it will fester and grow and consume you.

11. You will ask “Why?” more times than you thought possible, but you may never get an answer. What helps is asking, “How? How can I live life more fully to honor my loved one? How can I love better, how can I embrace others, how can I change and grow because of this?” 

12. You will try to escape grief by getting busy, busy, busy. You will think that if you don’t think about it, it’ll just go away. This isn’t really true. Take time to process and heal.

13. Liquor, sex, drugs, hobbies, work, relationships, etc., will not take the pain away. If you are using anything to try and numb the pain, it will make things worse in the long run. Seek help if you’re dealing with the sorrow in unhealthy ways.

14. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to need people. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.

15. Grief can be beautiful and deep and profound. Don’t be afraid of it. Walk alongside it. You may be surprised at what grief can teach you.

What are things you’ve learned about grief that you wish you’d known when your loss first happened?

"I Will Not Fail Thee, nor Forsake Thee"

President Monson, Oct 2013 Conference:

When the pathway of life takes a cruel turn, there is the temptation to ask the question “Why me?” At times there appears to be no light at the end of the tunnel, no sunrise to end the night’s darkness. We feel encompassed by the disappointment of shattered dreams and the despair of vanished hopes. We join in uttering the biblical plea, “Is there no balm in Gilead?”¹We feel abandoned, heartbroken, alone. We are inclined to view our own personal misfortunes through the distorted prism of pessimism. We become impatient for a solution to our problems, forgetting that frequently the heavenly virtue of patience is required....

From the bed of pain, from the pillow wet with tears, we are lifted heavenward by that divine assurance and precious promise: “I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.”⁷ Such comfort is priceless....

Our Heavenly Father, who gives us so much to delight in, also knows that we learn and grow and become stronger as we face and survive the trials through which we must pass. We know that there are times when we will experience heartbreaking sorrow, when we will grieve, and when we may be tested to our limits. However, such difficulties allow us to change for the better, to rebuild our lives in the way our Heavenly Father teaches us, and to become something different from what we were—better than we were, more understanding than we were, more empathetic than we were, with stronger testimonies than we had before.

This should be our purpose—to persevere and endure, yes, but also to become more spiritually refined as we make our way through sunshine and sorrow. Were it not for challenges to overcome and problems to solve, we would remain much as we are, with little or no progress toward our goal of eternal life. 

Celebrating You

Happy Birthday Dear Brother. 
We aren't celebrating today quite like we did last year, but I'm going to be sure to do some random acts of kindness in your name.  I finally finished our memory book all about you.  You have so many friends and family who love you, and try to be better each day because of what we learned from you. 

 

It was hard for everyone to try and capture everything about you , as you are impossible to put into words.  But, we did our best and it will be a treasure to look at photos and read all of our memories of you. 

 



 

It goes without saying that I wish you were here, to celebrate 34 years since your birth.  Look at how cute we were so many years ago.  I love you with all my heart and will spend today celebrating life and all that it has to offer. 

 

much love,

Laura





Before and After, by Jimae

Before and After

by Jimae Kenney, Mom

Forever the demarcation

In the life that I call mine

The day to day occurrences

Before and after on that line.

Before we were a family

Held together by joy and love.

Our day to day activities

Appreciation for gifts from above.

Before I was always focused

On what to do today-

What time do I have to be there

And what do I need to say?

I felt like I was in the service

Of my family and fellow man.

I was good at what I committed to

Completing tasks and caring for others

Almost faster than I ran.

After life was forever changed

We were still a family unit

But the depth and breadth of our understanding

Were magnified in our comprehension of it.

The heavy scent of flowers-

The sounds of bagpipe strains-

The cold and ice of winter

Bring back the empty pains.

Especially now at Halloween

Your favorite time of year-

The tricks and jokes you were up to

Leaving us all to fear.

Oh the memories of your spirit

How caring and loving you were.

And now you’re gone we hold inside

The warmth of your strength so sure.

And with that comes a peace,

A stillness in our hearts-

Though broken, they are stilled

A song that cries within our parts.

Before I had thirty two years

Now, after is only two

My continuum of understanding

And memories of you

Encourage me to continue

To go forth each and every day

With renewed understanding of the plan of life

And constantly in my heart I pray

For understanding of the truth

Of knowledge that is our sacrifice in seeing-

As we release our beloved son To the Heavens

Of our father and brother of greater being.

So, is this how our Heavenly Father felt

When he gave his only begotten son?

Did the grief and pain underlie

All that is ever done?

After

So, now today, I often wonder

Did I teach you all that you needed to know

To get through time and eternity

And what to do so you will continue to grow?

Did you learn what you needed to be?

Truth be told, upon that day –

Two years ago our life was forever altered

Now all of us can say

We are to take these things we know-

Those things we need to do

To be the people on this earth

To act in place of you.

Embracing the Full Weight of Loss

I read a blog by a woman, Molly Jackson, who lost her daughter when she choked on a tiny piece of apple.  Molly has started a blog called "Hope Smiling Brightly, life after loss".  I enjoy reading about her advice on how to heal after someone close to you dies. 

Molly participated in a documentary called "After the End, a Journey through loss to hope."  I saw the preview and it looks pretty great.  Here is what Molly had to say about it:

I hope you'll share his article, and more importantly, the movie, with those you know who might need it. All of us will need it at some point. We all will have to learn to embrace the full weight of loss so we can let it create a space for healing. And we will likely have to do it more than once. 

I'm so thankful for all that my loss has taught me. I'm not thankful for my loss. I'm thankful for what it has taught me. I'm thankful for the opportunity I had to be a part of this fantastic film project. I'm thankful there are people out there willing to share their stories, willing to live and love fully--not in spite of their loss, but because of their loss. I'm thankful there are people with the talents and the drive to create projects like these. I'm just so thankful to know that I am not alone. 

And I agree with Molly, sometimes all you need to be able to keep going is to know that you are not alone. 

Blessings of Compensation

As I think about Tiffany and her two sweet girls, Brooklyn and Zelda now facing the fresh pain of losing their Daddy, I recall a beautiful letter Grandpa Bodell wrote for Joshua and Jasmine soon after David's accident.  There are many words of wisdom here for the sweet little spirits left to grow up without their Dad on earth.  My heart breaks just thinking about the pain they are facing right now.  I know it is hard to imagine, but I think somehow, Heavenly Father blesses these children with added measures of blessings for their trials. If these kids can turn out as great as our Grandpa, then they will be more than okay one day.

I love what Elder Wirthlin had to say about the "Blessings of Compensation" 

"The thing we can do is understand the principle of compensation. The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude."
You can find the entire talk here:  https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2008/10/come-what-may-and-love-it?lang=eng

All my love to Joshua, Brooklyn, Jasmine and Zelda.

 


December 19, 2011

Dear Joshua and Jasmine,

It is with a heavy heart that I approach this but I feel I want to share my love of your Father that I have always had for him. As for all my grandkids it’s hard to tell anyone of the love that I have for each of you. You are special.

You see, I was five years old when my Daddy was taken back to live with our Father in Heaven, so I can understand a little of your hurt and sadness that you are going through, and will go through the rest of your life.

There were times as I grew up that I asked, “Why haven’t I a Father that I can talk to, to help me make up my mind—I need help—I need a father to help. I was blessed to understand why at my young age. I still had someone to go to, to help me find the answers. Yes, I can remember the wet pillows as I would go to sleep. As I would wake for a new day I would find that life was there and I knew that I had two Fathers there to help me through the day— my earthly Father and my Heavenly Father. I grew up knowing that I was able to have two fathers that loved me and cared about what happened to me.

You are blessed, as I was, with a great woman for a mother that loves you. Listen to her. She will be blessed as I was. Your father will always be close to inspire and do what is best for you. Things will come throughout your life that you will look back and see where your Dad has blessed you even though he hasn’t been here on this earth.

Your Dad was kind of like me, your great-grandfather. He liked doing things and building things that would make others happy. He loved to do things that would make kids happy. He was kind to everyone. He hated the bully ones. He didn’t like to see someone get picked on.

I’m thrilled to know that we can go on learning together. Maybe we will be able to build a world together.

I know that the time seems long before this can all happen. But I am sure it will if we can live a “Christ Like” life.

You are so young that it is just words to you now, but as you grow you will understand how much we love you and how much we are “glad you came to our house to live”. Thanks for choosing us. Your Father was one of the best, if for no other reason, and there are many of them, he made it possible for us to have you.

With all my love,

Great Grandpa Bodell

Grieving is a lifelong experience

Many of us Kenney's met new friends last week as we attended the funeral services for our cousin, Ryan.  Our hearts and prayers have continually gone out to Ryan's wife Tiffany and their two sweet girls, as well as Ryan's parents and sisters.  We will be eternally in debt to the Gates family who rushed to our sides the moment they heard of David's accident. 

While I do not wish this type of grief on anyone, I am grateful for the knowledge of this gospel, and the peace it brings to my heart.  If there is anything I have learned in the past 21 months, it is that we are not alone.  I am grateful to have the opportunity to pay our Savior's love forward to another family in need. 

I first came across this article within the week of David's death.  I know it spoke to me as this new grief felt like a huge piano being dropped in on the play called my life. I think for the most part, the piano has been moved to the upper right corner of the stage, still there, always adding to the music of my life. 

much love to the Conley and Gates families.....

STEVEN KALAS:

When you lose a child, grieving is a lifelong experience

When our first child is born, a loud voice says, “Runners, take your marks!” We hear the starting gun and the race begins. It’s a race we must win at all cost. We have to win. The competition is called “I’ll race you to the grave.” I’m currently racing three sons. I really want to win.

Not everyone wins.

I’m here at the national meeting of Compassionate Friends, an organization offering support and resources for parents who lose the race. I’m wandering the halls during the “break-out” sessions. In this room are parents whose children died in car accidents. Over there is a room full of parents of murdered children. Parents of cancer victims are at the end of the hall. Miscarriages and stillbirths are grouped together, as are parents who have survived a child’s suicide. And so it goes.

In a few minutes, I’m going to address Compassionate Friends. This is the toughest audience of my life. I mix with the gathering crowd, and a woman from Delaware glances at my name tag. Her name tag has a photo of her deceased son. My name tag is absent photos.

“So … you haven’t … lost anyone,” she says cautiously.

“My three sons are yet alive, if that’s what you’re asking me,” I say gently.

She tries to nod politely, but I can see that I’ve lost credibility in her eyes. She’s wondering who invited this speaker, and what on earth he could ever have to say to her.

My address is titled “The Myth of Getting Over It.” It’s my attempt to answer the driving questions of grieving parents: When will I get over this? How do I get over this?

You don’t get over it. Getting over it is an inappropriate goal. An unreasonable hope. The loss of a child changes you. It changes your marriage. It changes the way birds sing. It changes the way the sun rises and sets. You are forever different.

You don’t want to get over it. Don’t act surprised. As awful a burden as grief is, you know intuitively that it matters, that it is profoundly important to be grieving. Your grief plays a crucial part in staying connected to your child’s life. To give up your grief would mean losing your child yet again. If I had the power to take your grief away, you’d fight me to keep it. Your grief is awful, but it is also holy. And somewhere inside you, you know that.

The goal is not to get over it. The goal is to get on with it.

Profound grief is like being in a stage play wherein suddenly the stagehands push a huge grand piano into the middle of the set. The piano paralyzes the play. It dominates the stage. No matter where you move, it impedes your sight lines, your blocking, your ability to interact with the other players. You keep banging into it, surprised each time that it’s still there. It takes all your concentration to work around it, this at a time when you have little ability or desire to concentrate on anything.

The piano changes everything. The entire play must be rewritten around it.

But over time the piano is pushed to stage left. Then to upper stage left. You are the playwright, and slowly, surely, you begin to find the impetus and wherewithal to stop reacting to the intrusive piano. Instead, you engage it. Instead of writing every scene around the piano, you begin to write the piano into each scene, into the story of your life.

You learn to play that piano. You’re surprised to find that you want to play, that it’s meaningful, even peaceful to play it. At first your songs are filled with pain, bitterness, even despair. But later you find your songs contain beauty, peace, a greater capacity for love and compassion. You and grief — together — begin to compose hope. Who’da thought?

Your grief becomes an intimate treasure, though the spaces between the grief lengthen. You no longer need to play the piano every day, or even every month. But later, when you’re 84, staring out your kitchen window on a random Tuesday morning, you welcome the sigh, the tears, the wistful pain that moves through your heart and reminds you that your child’s life mattered.

You wipe the dust off the piano and sit down to play.

Copyright: Las Vegas Review-Journal

You Are Not Alone Lyrics (Michael Jackson)

Im a big MJ fan...

Where Can I Turn For Peace/ Be Still My Soul

To our dear Tiffany and all who love her and Ryan. May you feel His love today and forever.

The Plan of Salvation

A friend of a friend lost her son this week and I wanted to find something to share that would hopefully bring them some solace. In searching, I decided to post this link here on David's blog for all of us as well. Perhaps we can learn something for ourselves in our own continued grief ...

WALKING ON JUPITER

I cam across this beautiful essay written by the father of Mitchell Jones, a 10 year old Utah boy who passed away last March.  While it has been longer than that since David's death, I could completely understand what he is talking about with the world feeling so heavy.  I thought I would share.  You can see the original essay on facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/mitchellsjourney?hc_location=timeline

Still love and miss you David, every single day.

WALKING ON JUPITER
A few weeks ago I walked by Mitchell’s room and noticed through the half-opened door his mother sitting on his bed with a look of sorrow and a longing for her little boy. She had a pain in her countenance only a mother who lost a child could know. As I quietly walked toward the door my eyes blurred and I stumbled over my heart as it fell to the floor. 

Without making a noise I took this photo with my iPhone and disappeared into the shadows so she could have her moment uninterrupted. My wife sat on his bed deeply contemplative – stripped of a tender child she loved with all her soul. I could only imagine what thoughts were crossing her mind as she sat in the very place we tucked him in at night, where we gave him hugs and kisses, had long conversations, and played video games. This was the very place we held our son’s hand weeping that we couldn't save him from death and telling him we were so very sorry; the place he said “it’s okay mommy.” This was the place our precious son passed away in the deep freeze of a winter night while his faithful puppy had curled around his head as if to comfort him.

I’ll never forget that night … the night Mitchell passed away. I can still see her kneeling on the edge of his bed as she draped over him sobbing, hugging him, holding his lifeless hand … wishing he wasn't gone. That was the day my wife and I left earth and took up residence in an unfamiliar place. That was the day our world changed.

There are days … sometimes agonizing moments … the gravity of grief is so great it feels like I’m walking on Jupiter. It’s a place where your chest feels so heavy even breathing is difficult. I have come to learn that once you lose a child you leave earth’s gravity forever. You may visit earth from time-to-time, but Jupiter is where your heart is. And from what I can tell, we will live the remainder of our lives in the gravity well of grief. 

There are many well-meaning people, as if to throw an emotional lifeline, who try to remind us life is but a “speck” in the eternal scheme of things. Or that they’re sorry for our “temporary loss” as if the wave of a hand and a simple utterance will assuage our sorrow. And while I understand the eternal nature of the soul – being mortal, life is the longest thing I know. The years ahead seem to stretch out into infinity and seem so very long without my son. I miss him terribly.

Jupiter, with its crushing gravity, is home. At least for now.

Author Bill Bryson said his book A Short History of Nearly Everything, that the universe is not only larger than we imagine, it's larger than we *can* imagine. When I read his words, that very notion blew my mind. To consider that the universe is so big that we don’t have the capacity to comprehend it … it gave me shivers. Bill Bryson’s comment reminded me of a passage in Isaiah where God said “My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways …. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” 

While walking on Jupiter I have learned that to have a knowledge of God (even a relationship with Him) doesn't protect us from pain and sorrow - but it can give meaning to pain and suffering. 

One day my heart will leave Jupiter for a better place. Between now and then, the gravity of grief is a necessary crucible of growth. After all, it isn't our bodies that need to grow, but our souls.

And as I gaze into the night sky and contemplate the sheer immensity of space and mankind’s utter nothingness in the context of the universe – I feel a whisper in my soul that we are the reason all of that was created in the first place.

Hope

"Hope sustains us through despair. Hope teaches that there is reason to rejoice even when all seems dark around us......Such a mature hope comes in and through our Savior Jesus Christ. To all who suffer-to all who feel discouraged, worried, or lonely- I say with love and deep concern for you, never give in. Never surrender. Never allow despair to overcome your spirit. Embrace and rely upon the Hope of Israel, for the love of the Son of God pierces all darkness, softens all sorrow, and gladdens every heart."  ~ President Dieter F. Uchtdorf

With Easter quickly approaching, I know I'm spending a lot of time thinking about the resurrection that will one day come.  I am so grateful for the hope we have in Jesus Christ and the knowledge we have that we will see and hug our David again. 

Homeward Bound

HOMEWARD BOUND

In the quiet misty morning 

When the moon has gone to bed, 

When the sparrows stop their singing 

And the sky is clear and red, 

When the summer's ceased its gleaming, 

When the corn is past its prime, 

When adventure's lost its meaning, 

I'll be homeward bound in time. 

 Bind me not to the pasture; 

Chain me not to the plow. 

Set me free to find my calling 

And I'll return to you somehow. 

If you find it's me you're missing, 

If you're hoping I'll return, 

To your thoughts I'll soon be list'ning, 

In the road I'll stop and turn.

Then the wind will set me racing 

As my journey nears its end, 

And the path I'll be retracing 

When I'm homeward bound again. 

Bind me not to pasture; 

Chain me not to the plow. 

Set me free to find my calling 

And I'll return to you somehow. 

In the quiet misty morning 

When the moon has gone to bed, 

When the sparrows stop their singing, 

I'll be homeward bound again

.

What's On The Other Side?

My mother in law came across this book a few months ago and got it for me for my birthday. I just wanted to share with you a part i read today -

"Because of the importance and urgency of the work of the Lord in the spirit world, there are times when faithful men and women are called to that work before we may think that they are ready to die. Similar to Church callings here in mortality, deaths are sometimes unexpected and come at what we may think are inopportune times. Elder Neal A. Maxwell gave an insightful observation of this fact. He said: "On the other side of the veil, there are perhaps seventy billion people. They need the same gospel, and releases occur here to aid the Lord's work there. Each release of a righteous individual from this life is also a call to new labors. Those who have true hope understand this. Therefore, though we miss the departed righteous so much here, hundreds may feel their touch there. One day, those hundreds will thank the bereaved for gracefully forgoing the extended association with choice individuals here, in order that they could help hundreds there."

http://deseretbook.com/Whats-Other-Side-What-Gospel-Teaches-Us-Spirit-World-Brent-L-Top/i/5005476

http://cdn1.deseretbook.com/images/product-images/55/1255/5005476_Whats_On_the_Other_Side_detail.jpg

See You Again

 My friend showed me this song and it made me think of David. I know I will see him again. :) looking forward to that day

"See You Again"

Said goodbye, turned around
And you were gone, gone, gone
Faded into the setting sun,
Slipped away
But I won’t cry
Cause I know I’ll never be lonely
For you are the stars to me,
You are the light I follow

[Chorus:]
I’ll See you again, oh
This is not where it ends
I will carry you with me, oh
Till I see you again

I can hear those echoes in the wind at night
Calling me back in time
Back to you
In a place far away
Where the water meets the sky
The thought of it makes me smile
You are my tomorrow

[Chorus:]
I’ll See you again, oh
This is not where it ends
I will carry you with me, oh
Till I see you again

[Bridge:]
Sometimes I feel my heart is breaking
But I stay strong and I hold on cause I know
I’ll see you again, oh
This is not where it ends
I will carry you with me, yeah yeah

[Outro:]
I’ll See you again, oh
This is not where it ends
I will carry you with me, oh
Till I see you again
Till I see you again,
Till I see you again,
Said goodbye turned around
And you were gone, gone, gone.

This is Not Your Home

Hi everyone! I feel I owe an apology for abandoning the blog for the last six weeks. The truth is...I just needed a break. It was so wonderful working on the blog every day for a month - but it was emotionally draining and after the 10th I had to step away.

I'm not really sure what the future holds for this blog, but I have a feeling the Lord has a plan and I'll just trust in that process. Every day people have still been coming here. I don't know who you are, but I'm glad there is a purpose.

Today I wanted to create something for you - it's a song that's been important to me over the last year. The title is This is Not Your Home by Hilary Weeks. I love this song because it gives me permission to grieve - to cry, to feel the pain, to beg for help. But it also teaches me that I cannot stay in that state for too long. I must remember my sorrows are a part of God's wonderful plan and I must keep perspective.

As much as I hate what happened last year - I have something to learn. I had a lot of tears and that's o.k. Things are getting easier and that is also o.k. I have been blessed with beautiful reminders of David's life. I have a strong testimony that he still lives and is close to us daily.

Heartache, Sorrow, Pain,. .
Now I must dry eyes
Wipe my cheeks
Reclaim my heart
Piece by piece by piece
'cause I need to breath again
I have to let the sunlight in
God didn't make my soul to be your home
No, this is not your home.

One Day Closer

  I just saw this quote and it made me think of my uncle David. Hope it makes you smile.