This Fathers' Day weekend I am so grateful for a dad who listens. Over the past 2 weeks we have spent hours on the phone. My dad is understanding, supportive, and willing to take any measures to ensure his children's safety and wellbeing. Now more than ever, I know I was blessed beyond all measures to have someone who doesn't cast judgement, even lately when I feel like I have slipped so hard.
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| a mission picture I found for the first time this morning - with Colea, Benji and Sister Saint Laurent |
But I did three things. Not because I was necessarily trying to change anything, but because in their individual moments of spiritual spontaneity they just felt so so good.
One: I took a summery evening to explore the temple grounds. Those gardens outside the glimmering walls with the inscription, "HOLINESS TO THE LORD," are doubtless one of my favorite locations on this earth. There is an aura of peace there that stills my troubles every time without fail. The feeling of godly love is perplexingly tangible even to those who have wedged themselves in a fortification of numbness.
Three: I recounted in my mind the words of my patriarchal blessing. So much of it resonates so deeply within me, reminding me of the special role God has given me, of the direction and of the potential that I have every capacity to claim my own. I had to remind myself-- this applies to me NOW in just as real a sense as it applied to the fourteen-year-old Katie who cried for joy with the patriarch's hands on her head... in just as real a sense as it will apply to the forty-year old mommy and Mrs. Katie. I had to remind myself there is no such thing as hiatus of God's acceptance nor of opportunity for blessings.
I never quit praying. I may have turned a couple-degrees' worth of a cold shoulder, but I never turned my back on God and I never will. I refuse. Even in the midst of difficulties, He has been so, so good to me. I simply can't deny it.
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