Moving Forward
I am learning today that moving forward is often times easier said than done. It has been another one of those days. My eyes have been brimming all day long. I have had to stop, breath, sometimes turn in circles, and then move forward. I found that when I was focusing on something or someone else, it was easier. However, when business got slow, I found myself digressing. I know it is not easy.
It reminded me of those early days in the MTC. It was extremely hard. I knew that what I was doing was right. I wanted to move forward, but I missed my home and family. I wanted someone else to take care of me. It was hard to make the transistion. I remember wetting the pages of several letters perched upon my bed. I remember having to turn my pillow over at night so I would have something dry to sleep on. I remember making myself sick as the battle raged within me. But most importantly, I remember finding a secluded spot. In the MTC, we called it the Prayer Closet. It was just a normal janatorial closet. I would move the mop bucket around and find a place to knee. I then poured my heartache out to the Lord. I remember so well, the warm, loving peace that enveloped me. That same feeling is still there today. I often find myself longing for it.
I still shed tears, there were still challenging times ahead, today being one of them, but I kept moving forward. I have learned that all of us, as children of God can do the same. The only difference I find from those days and today is that instead of just pleading for personal strength, I have added my concerns for a loving spouse, adorable children, and my extended family. The love of God is real. His power is strong and there for the taking. I exhort you all to invoke it.
Love ya,
Dad
It reminded me of those early days in the MTC. It was extremely hard. I knew that what I was doing was right. I wanted to move forward, but I missed my home and family. I wanted someone else to take care of me. It was hard to make the transistion. I remember wetting the pages of several letters perched upon my bed. I remember having to turn my pillow over at night so I would have something dry to sleep on. I remember making myself sick as the battle raged within me. But most importantly, I remember finding a secluded spot. In the MTC, we called it the Prayer Closet. It was just a normal janatorial closet. I would move the mop bucket around and find a place to knee. I then poured my heartache out to the Lord. I remember so well, the warm, loving peace that enveloped me. That same feeling is still there today. I often find myself longing for it.
I still shed tears, there were still challenging times ahead, today being one of them, but I kept moving forward. I have learned that all of us, as children of God can do the same. The only difference I find from those days and today is that instead of just pleading for personal strength, I have added my concerns for a loving spouse, adorable children, and my extended family. The love of God is real. His power is strong and there for the taking. I exhort you all to invoke it.
Love ya,
Dad
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