M, L & M

Today God sent me two angels, oh there was no earth shaking, blinding light, or loud voices. Instead what appeared to be an ordinary couple, who testified with such power, humility and authority that the Holy Ghost came with such magnitude it stole my breath away. And I was taught from on high! Slowly truths I had been seeking became crystal clear in my mind and heart. The beauty, the clarity, the understanding, and the pure love flooded my soul, and silent tears poured down my face. It was so deeply felt that I was left within seconds, with those hiccuping-kind of sobs. The final song, I couldn't even sing, and the closing prayer ended, and that moment of truth for me was complete. 

Ever-sensitive Clark knew something had happened, but we both knew I wasn't capable to give it words yet. Later as we drove home and I'd had some time to process, we talked about the meeting in general. We were there for our friends report after they just returned from three years serving as the Chile Santiago East Mission President. I was very surprised the ward had a full program, complete with two additional speakers and a choir number as well. The chapel was packed with many returned missionaries anxious to hear them speak. As you can imagine they weren't left with anything remotely close to sufficient time...especially for me. I had sat at the feet of this great man many many times and been taught, and I guess my soul hungered for what I knew would be coming. 

We have all experienced those speakers who, when left with insufficient time, do one of two things. Either they ignore the time constraints, or they shuffle their notes, pausing often, while obviously trying to decide in that moment...what to cut, and what to leave in. And then there are those, like the Morgans yesterday, both  master teachers in my opinion, who graciously spoke from their hearts, bearing powerful testimony to the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon and the living Christ. I am not sure what they had planned to say, or if what they did say was indeed what they had planned, however it felt very much like they both said exactly what the Lord had given them to say, in exactly the amount of time they had to do it in. It was remarkable. 

And yet, there was more, for me. As Marty began to speak about Moroni, I immediately envisioned the age-old painting of Moroni kneeling at the open earth, hands clasped in a manner of prayer, resting upon the gold plates he had obediently just finished compiling. 
He was ready to surrender them to the Lord, knowing his mortal life would soon be over, and this charge he had been given to record, and then compile, was finished.

Today, I understood why this picture had always held an element of unease for me.
Why did he appear to be praying over the sacred records? 
Why didn't an angel come from God to receive such a precious treasure? 
And then as Marty spoke today, these truths distilled on my soul, just like the dew from heaven in the morning light of a new day.

Moroni knew the power of these engravings. He also knew he could no longer protect them. He knew only God could do that. I can clearly see now with his remarkable faith and infinite trust in the Lord. Perhaps he may have he begged the Lord to "help Thou my unbelief" and pleaded with Almighty God to give him the strength to bury these plates and walk away. Asking God to allow him the ability to return them to Thee...and the power necessary to separate himself from them, and trust Thy will.

How incredibly difficult that moment must have been for him. He had poured his testimony and life into those plates. He had guarded them with his life. He had lived as a recluse to fulfill his God-given responsibility concerning them. And he had been blessed to see our day when these sacred records would be both translated, and available to the entire human race. And he saw us receive them...and what we did with them! He was given to know the power they held for us today.

And then I recognized those two wonderful speakers and friends, as the Angels they were today because my mind caught hold of the very truth I had been searching for and the understanding I had just been given that filled my heart to overflowing.

When we brought Bryce home from the hospital after his attempt, we instigated a Heaven-inspired plan of having him live a 24-hour plan. Plan 24 hours and then live 24 hours. It resonated with his heart and we have seen great success for him. However as we came to live that plan with him, I began to recognize some of the down-sides of this plan for me. I realized I was truly incapable if committing myself to anything beyond that 24-hours ahead of me. At first when I recognized this in myself, I thought it was a way of not overloading myself as I continued to heal, and support Bryce's healing and recovery. After more time had passed I slowly realized I was never as happy as I had thought I would be having, witnessed so many miracles with Bryce. And finally I realized that the daily, sometimes,hourly choice between faith and fear, were exhausting me. 

My reserves were pretty low, despite others reminding me to take care of myself. I thought I was. Then the reality hit me...I had lost hope. By living only 24 hours at a time, I had no hope for the next 24 after that, and after that, and after that. And so I have been pleading with the Lord to help me have hope for the future again, to help me to have strength through His Son's Atonement  to continue to choose faith over fear. 

So when I heard Marty talk about what Moroni felt and chose to do regarding the sacred plates, suddenly it was as if I were kneeling at that open earth, knowing my pleas to God were to have the strength to give Bryce, his life and choices, to God. I had to trust Bryce to God completely. I no longer had the ability to protect him, I didn't have the strength to leave hope out of my life, and I had done all that the Lord had required me to do.

While I understood the powerful analogy, I also knew I would continue to play a unique and supporting role in his life and Eternity, I heard His message. Trust Me please. Soft and deep those words penetrated my broken, wounded Mother's heart. And then the tears began in earnest. 

Today, I know the end of Moroni's story- he was called to be the very Angel God sent to Joseph Smith to pass on these sacred records.. And today I have that wonderful Book of Mormon to bless my life with it's power. And today I know that my Angels came to help bind up my broken heart, to give me back my hope, to strengthen my faith and trust in my loving Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ.

I have been blessed with many Angels in my life, and today I was again. I realize how often Heavenly Father sends angels among us, they aren't white and shining, but the hearts are pure before God. And I love and appreciate each one of them. And maybe someday, somehow to someone I may be one of His angel on His errand to minister in His way, is my prayer.

Independence Day

Forty-four years ago I remember waking up to a cacophony of birdsong, in the humid heat of early morning. I remember thinking... I don't think I'll need my Kangaroo skin coat here.... because I was in Hawaii! We had arrived late to our Hotel so I was anxious to indulge in the sights, sounds, and smells of my favorite flower. The Frangipani (Plumeria) grew on massive trees, and heavy with blooms during our short stay, and I was loving it! It soothed my wounded aching heart, as I felt I had found a little piece of home. As we headed toward the airport we began to see all these little American Flags along the windy little roads from Laie to Honolulu. Unfamiliar with America's Independence Day it took awhile for it dawn on us we were in the middle of the island's celebration, ha! we thought someone was throwing a party for us!  Later we landed in Los Angeles and the display of Patriotism was even more evident on the mainland. It was interesting to me to see such patriotism. I reflected that while growing up in Australia, we adored our Queen Elizabeth, but we were really just part of her Commonwealth. The Australia we know today- took many more years to evolve. Now when I go home I am delighted to see so many Australian flags flapping against the cobalt-blue sky, everywhere it seems.

Photo courtesy of Cousin Robyn Sewell Mangold....thanks Robbie!

But at almost-16, all those years ago, I was not happy about moving here permanently. Goodness the 'Yanks' didn't even spell right, like leaving the 'U' out of colour, and Saviour...not to mention how harsh they sounded with their crazy accent....driving on the wrong side of the road made no sense at all...and well let's just call a spade a spade...I didn't want to be here! Life as I knew it had come to a screaming halt...I remember as we drove away from my home in Adelaide, my cousins, Aunt's, Uncles, Grandparents, my friends, everything I held dear...I yelled from the back of the car, "I hate you, you are going to regret this!"  Just what every parent wants to hear when they are making such a sacrifice, in part, for the hateful child screaming in the car....NOT!

And for the record I was the ONLY one complaining! 
My life was over...nothing would ever be the same...I knew this was a huge error in judgement! But no one was listening to me in the least. The first six months were torture...I remember riding home from my first week at school thinking...I am just not going to speak ever again. I continued to endure relentless teasing about my accent...and got laughed at when I said the wrong word...In YW I asked one of the girls to pass me the 'rubber' instead of the 'eraser' .....how was I to know the slang word for a condom was in America???? Life was a real challenge....coordinating clothes for school every day was overwhelming after wearing a school uniform my whole life. I had one new friend in Providence tell me "Yeah wait til your hair and the snot in your nose freezes on the way to the bus." Oh seriously couldn't wait for that to happen! 

Gradually I assimilated, but deep in my heart I have never recovered fully. Multiple times I have gone to the courthouse to listen to the required oath for citizenship. Each time I left knowing I couldn't honestly take that oath. It is deeply personal that I still regard Australia as my home and the land that holds my heart. Don't get me wrong I love America and the beautiful life I have been blessed with here. But Australia will always be my home.

And so on this Independence Day I truly do appreciate all I have had, continue to have and will have in the future, in this great country.  I also have a healthy respect and deep gratitude for my Angel Mother who made this sacrifice to move us to America- mostly for better gospel-related opportunities for us kids. It ultimately meant she was separated by an ocean from her dearest friends-her family, and others. And while very few of her children still embrace those gospel ideals she sacrificed so much for, she is a constant example or righteous endurance to me. And I love her for that. 

And so today, I am profoundly grateful for the American I married...Lover is my everything. I am also profoundly grateful for all my half-american children, and quarter-american grandchildren. I remember Dani telling me, shortly after she had married her sweetheart Paul, and became an instant Mother to his Paul and Liam, that when Liam realized Nanny is Australian...he said "Well then that makes me 1/4 Australian, right?" Sure does in my heart Liam!

So Happy Independence Day today (since really everyone in the world has a July 4th right?)
and I am truly grateful for where my journey through mortality has taken me. And I am so grateful you are a part of this fabulous adventure, regardless of where you call home or are now! Enjoy!