A Small Moment of...

Source: proclamationpictures.blogspot.com via Vashti on Pinterest

These past 9 months I have had all of my children at school and have had 6 hours to myself. I feel blessed to have had this opportunity to find myself apart from my family. I could have chosen to work, but I didn't. I knew I needed to be home and that God had a purpose for me not working and would bless my husband with a job that would provide all we needed.

My 6 hours of time became sacred and I chose to reflect on my life and take inventory. This has been a difficult process, but I knew I needed to do it. I had to be prayerful and ask God to help me see where I was, where I was headed, and where I needed to be. I can't explain it, but the more I trusted and turned my will over to Him each day in this process, the more He has opened my eyes and widened my perspective on my life.

He has placed me on a specific path. A path like no other. One I never would have dreamed I would ever be on. It's not a path I would have ever chosen for myself, or maybe I would. It's a path full of rocks, boulders, holes, and weeds, but there is more to it than that. It's a path full of beautiful tender mercies and it's really changing me; helping me to see my full potential and worth in God's eyes as well as seeing through His eyes the worth and potential of others on the same path. It's indescribable! I just know I am supposed to take this journey. I want to take this journey.

I know Christ is saying to me, “Trust me, learn of me, do what I do. Then, when you walk where I am going,” He says, “we can talk about where you are going, and the problems you face and the troubles you have. If you will follow me, I will lead you out of darkness,” He promises. “I will give you answers to your prayers. I will give you rest to your souls.” ("Broken Things to Mend", Jeffrey R. Holland, April 2006 Conference.)

I have walked with Christ and even been carried by Him on many occasions. I have surrendered my problems, pain, and will to Him. Submitting my will required a broken heart and a contrite spirit; a daily act of humility in which I ask of God what He wants of me. Then focus my thoughts on Him, opening my mind to impression that come. I've put my this to the test and had an experience like none other.

I'll get to it, but first I wanted last night's Family Home Evening Lesson on "Being a Missionary." It ties into my experience.

Each Monday night our family gathers together for "Family Home Evening" we take this special time to strengthen our love for each other, draw closer to Christ, and encourage righteous living.
Each person in our family gets the opportunity to teach a lesson on a gospel topic of their choosing. We pray together, sing hymns, share scriptures, personal stories, watch videos, play games, and eat yummy treats. Each person has a job in one of these areas mentioned. Last night our youngest had the lesson. He had learned at church how to be a missionary and with help from me we planned a lesson on missionary work.

Here's what was shared:

Song: "I hope They Call Me on a Mission"

This scripture was shared... "When a man speaketh by the power of the Holy Ghost the power of the Holy Ghost carrieth it unto the hearts of the children of men." (2 Nephi 33:1)

Our youngest read this story:

Vítor lived with his mother and sister at his grandma’s home in Brazil. Vítor’s grandma became ill and could not leave her bed for many weeks. She was lonely in her room by herself.

Vítor decided that he could keep Grandma company. Every day when he came home from school, he took a copy of the Liahona into Grandma’s room and read her stories from the children’s pages.

After he read all the copies of the Liahona that his family had, he began reading the Book of Mormon and the Bible to her. Grandma was not a member of the Church, but she loved hearing Vítor read to her. She was happy to learn about the gospel.

Grandma asked many questions. If Vítor did not know the answers, he asked his Primary teacher or looked in the scriptures. Grandma called Vítor her little missionary.

Grandma told Vítor that she had learned a lot from him. She promised that she would attend church with him when she got well. What she had learned made her want to get better and study more about the gospel.

When Grandma was well, she kept her promise. She went to church with Vítor to learn more about what he had taught her. It was not long before Grandma was baptized and confirmed. Vítor had helped her learn that the gospel is true.

When Vítor grew up, he became a full-time missionary in the Boston Massachusetts Mission. Before he left, he went to the temple—with his grandma.

I shared the following video about Sid Going who was asked to play for New Zealand's national rugby team, but turned the offer down to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

After the video, our discussion was about preparing for a mission and what blessings we receive when we choose to follow Jesus Christ and teach the gospel vs. choosing worldly pursuits. I challenged my children to read the Book of Mormon and gain their own testimony of it. I invited them to share their testimony of Jesus Christ to their friends and be missionaries now.

I then bore my testimony of missionary work to my children and we closed our Family night by singing,

"Called to Serve."

Here is my personal experience as a missionary...

I had never served a mission before, but the Lord has been preparing me to be a missionary for quite some time. If you've been following this blog you know that I have had a tremendous amount of trials and suffering for the past 5 years. Through those trials many people touched my life through service and love. Most of them were members of my church. Their services brought smiles and encouragement that lifted my soul to a higher plane. They don't even know, but their warm hugs and phone calls gave me a feeling of happiness during the darkest times. I have learned that there is no real end to trials. They are a part of life. We can't have the sweet without the bitter. We need the bitter in order to remember the sweet. Through all of the bitter moments of my past, I have found immeasurable sweetness which helped me process the bitter. In other words, the bitter is what brought about the happiness in my life.

Why is that?

Often times friends of mine who are not members of my church will express the question, "Why are you so happy when you have suffered so much?"

I am happy, because my trials have given me a new heart. Through tears, sorrow, pain, and soul searching I've discovered the importance of those who have touched my life and those who still will. I have developed a deep and abiding love for my Savior, Jesus Christ who atoned for all of my pain, sorrow, and mistakes. I have allowed him to lead me through the valley's of doubt and into a beautiful mountain tops of courage, faith, and hope. Jesus Christ has changed my heart. My happiness is because I know him personally and want others to know him the way I do.

I had been studying my scriptures for weeks and praying for a missionary experience. Then one day a few weeks ago, I had a strong impression that the Sister missionaries were going to call me. I hung onto that feeling all day. Never doubting it, just accepting it was going to happen.

At around 4:15 pm, sure enough the sister missionaries texted me, asking if I could go visit a family with them who was investigating the church. At first I hesitated to text back. I was afraid, thinking, "I wouldn't know what to say. I had never served a mission and felt inadequate to share my belief with strangers."

I prayed to know what to do. The feeling came to go and teach.

I texted the missionaries back and said I would go. They responded letting me know they were going to teach the family about the trinity (the Godhead).

I looked up some scriptures in the Bible and Book of Mormon on the God head. The doubts then came again. I prayed for strength and courage and was determined to go and do as the Lord had commanded me. I drove to the house of the family and prayed one more time to have all doubts leave and asked God to unloose my tongue so I could speak from my heart and soul.

I met the missionaries on the doorstep and was welcomed into this families home. There was two children present, a boy age 9 and a girl age 8. The children were thrilled to see the missionaries. There eyes lit up with joy! They brought out their scriptures and wanted to read. Their mother asked about our belief in the Godhead. The mom had been a Baptist all of her life and was taught to believe in the Trinity. However she felt very strongly that God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit were 3 separate beings. She wanted to hear our testimony about the Godhead.

When it was my turn to share, the words came easily and with conviction... "I know God, Jesus Christ, and The Holy Ghost are three separate beings and I came to know this through prayer."

I continued on to share my experience with prayer...

I have had several trials over the last few years and while struggling to understand the reasons why I was suffering, I felt the desire to turn to God for help. I knelt down in prayer and asked what God's will was for me?

As I started to pray, peace washed over me and warmth resonated in my heart. This feeling was undeniable. I have felt it many times before, but never with so much power as that moment of prayer. I knew I was praying to God my Heavenly Father and I knew he had a son Jesus Christ, who had atoned for my suffering and the Holy Ghost was the testifier of this truth.

I shared the scripture Luke 22:41-42,

"And he was withdrawn from them a stone's cast, and kneeled down, and prayed, Saying, "Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine be done."

Christ wasn't praying to himself here. He was praying to His Father. You can come to know for yourself this truth, through prayer.

I also shared how I knew God loved us. I told them of the time my older sister was serving a mission for the church in Aruba and my mom had been worried about her. She hadn't heard from her and decided to pray to know if she was okay. The next morning my mother was awakened to a call from the Prophet of our Church, Gordon B. Hinckley. He said he had visited the missionaries in Aruba and that he had met her daughter and that she was a great missionary!

My mother was full of gratitude for such a blessing and answer to her prayers.Through this experience she knew God loved her. I too felt of His love as she shared this experience with me.

One of the sister missionaries then shared Stephen's testimony of the Godhead in Acts 7:55-56:

" But he, being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God, And said, Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God."

He witnesses through the Holy Ghost that God and Jesus Christ are 2 separate beings.

More questions were asked and I found that I was not tongue tied or scared in any way to speak what I knew to be truth. Everything just came to my mind crystal clear.

Before ending our visit, the missionaries challenged the family to read the Book of Mormon and pray about it. I chimed in and invited the family to church. The mom said, they'd try to make it. Her daughter then asked if she could read from the Book of Mormon to us. My heart rejoiced! I listened as she read and felt so much love and peace wash over me. After she read the missionaries asked if we could pray together and ask if the Book of Mormon was a true. The girl offered a simple prayer, asking if the Book of Mormon was true. When the prayer ended we all sat in reverence for about a minute. Then the boy chimed in, "Well I got my answer...it's true!"

I was amazed to have witnessed such a beautiful experience of child-like faith and all we did was share what was in our hearts. No fancy words or memorized script, just pure, solemn testimony of truth made manifest in our own lives. We taught what God had placed in our hearts.

Such truth I witnessed again a few nights ago...

I finished reading the Book of Mormon.

I had read it over and over through out my life, always remembering to test this promise at the end...

"And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.

And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things." (Moroni 10:4-5)

Yet this time, for the first time in my life I didn't need to put it to the test and ask God if this book was true. I knew it was true. That same feeling of warmth and peace I had felt before during the darkest time of my life and while teaching that family washed over me once again, and I couldn't deny it.

I prayed to my Heavenly Father in gratitude for this knowledge and hoped I could be an instrument in His hands to continue to share it with others.

If you want to know more about what I believe, please don't be afraid to talk to me or the missionaries that show up on your door step.

Ask the Missionaries! They Can Help You!

Credit

My first sincere prayer was at the age of 10.

I remember the summer of 1990 well. our family went to my dad's company picnic. There was a lightning storm that night. If you've ever experienced a lightning storm in Vegas, then you know what I am talking about. It was wall to wall lightning all around us. I felt as if it was closing in on me and trapping me. Everyone seemed oblivious to it; just laughing and having a great time. Nobody acted scared or worried. I on the other hand had been paralyzed with fear. I remember sitting on my dad's lap; holding onto him tightly. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heart beat. I felt safe with him and the thumping rhythm of his heart calmed me down. As long as I was holding on to him, I knew the lightning wouldn't hurt me.

We returned home and the storm raged on throughout the evening, except it was a different kind of storm. One just as violent, but it was no longer threatening the outside world, this time it was attacking my father's heart.

I remember waking up on a hot summer's morning ready to enjoy a delicious breakfast, but there was no breakfast waiting, instead my oldest brother and his wife were there and everyone was sad. They told me our dad had suffered a major heart attack during the night. He was in the hospital preparing to have open heart surgery. At the time, I don't think I really understand much. I just knew my dad was sick and he might die.

We were in the process of moving to another state, everyone was trying to help my mom and I didn't know what to do. My dad needed to flown by plane to the hospital where we were going to live. It was a scary time for our family and everyone was fasting and praying for a miracle. I believed in God. My parents taught me how to pray when I was a toddler, but I don't really remember having a real connection with God and never really listened to hear if he was going to talk back. In fact I never heard Him talk back to me; I just felt warmth, comfort, and peace, which was a sign to me he was listening. I remember feeling those same feelings when I attended church every week. One of my favorite songs was "A Child's Prayer." When I sang it, those feeling became blanket wrapped around my soul. I knew God loved me and that song was like a hug from him.

While my dad was in the hospital. The song became my prayer. Some nights, I sang it and cried myself to sleep. Then the idea came to me to write the lyrics down on a construction paper heart and give it to my dad in the hospital. I wanted him to know I was praying for him and I knew God was watching over him.

During this time, I felt I had to grown up and help out more. I did my best to not get in the way and to help my mom with the new house. Everything was new to me and I felt lost and afraid for the future. My prayers, which had once had been repetitive, changed. I had no doubt God was listening and took every opportunity I could to pour out my soul to God, trusting in Him to heal my dad. It took time, but God answered my prayers.

My dad survived and is still alive today. I am so grateful for a loving Father in Heaven who listened to a child's prayer many years ago. I know that experience changed the way I communicate with Him now. Prayer is my lifeline. It saved me during uncertain times and it saved my dad.

When you pray there is no call waiting or voice mail. God is always eager to talk to you. Are you as eager to talk to Him?

A friend of mine suggested I read a book by Ardeth Kapp, called, "Better Thank You Think You Are." I took the opportunity to read it while I was at my children's piano lesson today. One part stuck out to me that I want to share here.

"Today more than ever before, we are surrounded by electronic equipment that can, if we let it, keep us separated. Even while we are within reach of each other we can be out of touch, the message not getting through, "I love you. I care about you. You are not alone."

But when it comes to prayer, the lines are always open. "I hear you." "What desirest thou?" An prayer is a gift we must take advantage of. Many of our blessings "are made conditional upon our asking for them." (LDS Bible Dictionary, "Prayer," 753)

Is there something you want to ask God?
Kneel down and speak to him from your heart. I promise He is listening.