Memories...

During the unpacking process this week, I found our blog book that we printed about two years ago.  I couldn't stop reading it and smiling, looking through all our memories since dental school began four years ago. I love seeing cute little Evelyn, and reliving and remembering our experiences in San Francisco.  It has instilled in me a renewed diligence to not only capture photos, but thoughts and dialogue about our life experiences.  Good, bad, whatever...I'm going to write them down.  This really is a unique time of our lives that we will never go through again, and it is passing so quickly. It also holds so many life learning experiences for us and precious little moments of my kids' childhood!

(I mean, look at this little 16-month-old! That could NOT have been four years ago!)

I also loved reading the comments from you, our wonderful friends and family out there!  I know sometimes I probably sound a little overly optimistic, or depressing, or sentimental, (or whatever I'm feeling at the time) but I'm just trying to write it like it is. It makes me feel so happy and a million times less lonely knowing we have such great people out there who are supporting us!  Thank you so much, and forgive my poor word choice, grammar, punctuation, etc.  I have been out of college five (!) years now, and with three kids I can barely whip up anything that has a word with more than two syllables! :) I am really just trying to create something that will be special for our family someday:

When our children were very small, I started to write down a few things about what happened every day. Let me tell you how that got started. I came home late from a Church assignment. It was after dark. My father-in-law, who lived near us, surprised me as I walked toward the front door of my house. He was carrying a load of pipes over his shoulder, walking very fast and dressed in his work clothes. I knew that he had been building a system to pump water from a stream below us up to our property.

He smiled, spoke softly, and then rushed past me into the darkness to go on with his work. I took a few steps toward the house, thinking of what he was doing for us, and just as I got to the door, I heard in my mind—not in my own voice—these words: “I’m not giving you these experiences for yourself. Write them down.”

I went inside. I didn’t go to bed. Although I was tired, I took out some paper and began to write. And as I did, I understood the message I had heard in my mind. I was supposed to record for my children to read, someday in the future, how I had seen the hand of God blessing ourfamily. Grandpa didn’t have to do what he was doing for us. He could have had someone else do it or not have done it at all. But he was serving us, his family, in the way covenant disciples of Jesus Christ always do. I knew that was true. And so I wrote it down, so that my children could have the memory someday when they would need it.

I wrote down a few lines every day for years. I never missed a day no matter how tired I was or how early I would have to start the next day. Before I would write, I would ponder this question: “Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us or our children or our family today?” As I kept at it, something began to happen. As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us that I had not recognized in the busy moments of the day. As that happened, and it happened often, I realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show me what He had done.

More than gratitude began to grow in my heart. Testimony grew. I became ever more certain that our Heavenly Father hears and answers prayers. I felt more gratitude for the softening and refining that come because of the Atonement of the Savior Jesus Christ. And I grew more confident that the Holy Ghost can bring all things to our remembrance—even things we did not notice or pay attention to when they happened.

The years have gone by. My boys are grown men. And now and then one of them will surprise me by saying, “Dad, I was reading in my copy of the journal about when …” and then he will tell me about how reading of what happened long ago helped him notice something God had done in his day.

My point is to urge you to find ways to recognize and remember God’s kindness. It will build our testimonies. You may not keep a journal. You may not share whatever record you keep with those you love and serve. But you and they will be blessed as you remember what the Lord has done. You remember that song we sometimes sing: “Count your many blessings; name them one by one, And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.”

-Henry B. Eyring