Heart Felt
As you know, I have spent the past few blogs talking about my memories. When I pass the day or share them with my children, they sound different than they do when I type them out, I don't know why. I hope my thoughts this evening come out right.
For as long as I can remembers, I spent a part of my summer vacation on the farm with my grandparents. Over the past several hours, thoughts have been shared about the memories of those special days. Hiding in the horse trailers, turning my hands black while driving the old red tractor, climbing to the highest branches of the old willow, carving initials among the high branches of the birch tree, swimming in the canal, playing old 45's, hiking to Lake Cleveland, and many other varied activities.
Today I started reflecting on the memories of my older years.
I remembered attending church each Sunday that I was there, sitting in the back on the padded chairs instead of the pews. I remember being required to attend Sunday School and Priesthood even when I did not feel like being the visitor among those of my own age group. I remember Home and Visiting Teachers visiting the house to make sure things were alright. I remember being junior companion to a Home and Visiting Teacher, who made visits under disguise to make sure things were alright. I remember the first day trip after returning from my mission and being asked to administer a blessing, even though I could not remember the words in English. I remember the sacrifices that were made for both grandparent to attend an endowment session and the sealing on my wedding day.
Amazing memories aren't they. Yet, there was a time that I still wanted to hear. I realize later in life that all my life I had been given this incredible witness of heart felt truth, but I did not receive it. I vividly remember the day I felt moved to call and ask for verbal conformation. I remember the power of the Spirit as Grandma put the phone on speaker while she and Grandpa each took turns sharing their heart felt testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ and his gospel. That testimony burns in my heart today. I know that where ever they are, whatever they are asked to do, they will always find time to check up on me, my life, and my family like they have done since the day I was born. For this, I am grateful. I hope that I am able to leave a witness that is just as powerful when the time comes. It is upon the foundations of their witness that I have built my own. How about you?
For as long as I can remembers, I spent a part of my summer vacation on the farm with my grandparents. Over the past several hours, thoughts have been shared about the memories of those special days. Hiding in the horse trailers, turning my hands black while driving the old red tractor, climbing to the highest branches of the old willow, carving initials among the high branches of the birch tree, swimming in the canal, playing old 45's, hiking to Lake Cleveland, and many other varied activities.
Today I started reflecting on the memories of my older years.
I remembered attending church each Sunday that I was there, sitting in the back on the padded chairs instead of the pews. I remember being required to attend Sunday School and Priesthood even when I did not feel like being the visitor among those of my own age group. I remember Home and Visiting Teachers visiting the house to make sure things were alright. I remember being junior companion to a Home and Visiting Teacher, who made visits under disguise to make sure things were alright. I remember the first day trip after returning from my mission and being asked to administer a blessing, even though I could not remember the words in English. I remember the sacrifices that were made for both grandparent to attend an endowment session and the sealing on my wedding day.
Amazing memories aren't they. Yet, there was a time that I still wanted to hear. I realize later in life that all my life I had been given this incredible witness of heart felt truth, but I did not receive it. I vividly remember the day I felt moved to call and ask for verbal conformation. I remember the power of the Spirit as Grandma put the phone on speaker while she and Grandpa each took turns sharing their heart felt testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ and his gospel. That testimony burns in my heart today. I know that where ever they are, whatever they are asked to do, they will always find time to check up on me, my life, and my family like they have done since the day I was born. For this, I am grateful. I hope that I am able to leave a witness that is just as powerful when the time comes. It is upon the foundations of their witness that I have built my own. How about you?
Comments