An expression of our faith

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Afternoon Session of the April 2007 Conference.

This session was the re-dedication of the remodeled Salt Lake Tabernacle. President Hinckley gave a brief dedicatory prayer at the end, and several of the speakers shared memories about things that had happened in the building, so that was interesting and different. But my favorite talk was Sister Bonnie D. Parkin's, about gratitude. She started with this quote from Eliza R. Snow:

From this pulpit in 1870, Eliza R. Snow asked thousands of women a question that I’d like to repeat today: “Do you know of any place on the face of the earth, where [a] woman has more liberty, and where she enjoys such high and glorious privileges as she does here, as a Latter-day Saint?”

That struck me because Sister Annette Dennis said something similar recently and a whole bunch of people got all up in arms about it. So silly. In my opinion there's absolutely no other possible answer to Eliza R. Snow's question than, "No. Nowhere." The gospel of Jesus Christ is the thing that gives women the most hope, the most power, the most purpose, and the most knowledge of our divine potential—even when the people trying to live that gospel are clumsy and imperfect. That seems so clear to me!

In Sister Parkin's talk, I liked her emphasis on expressing gratitude. She said:

Gratitude is a Spirit-filled principle. It opens our minds to a universe permeated with the richness of a living God. Through it, we become spiritually aware of the wonder of the smallest things, which gladden our hearts with their messages of God’s love. This grateful awareness heightens our sensitivity to divine direction. When we communicate gratitude, we can be filled with the Spirit and connected to those around us and the Lord.

I know feeling grateful is important, but I've noticed when I talk about my gratitude (or write about it), I feel it even more strongly. Sometimes in my thoughts I'm too strongly inclined to rush past gratitude like "yeah yeah, I know I should be grateful for everything, but this specific thing is super hard!" Or "of course I'm grateful for what I have, but what I wish I had is ______!" Expressing gratitude in words forces me to slow down and live within it a little more. I've often noticed that even when I'm talking only to Sam (to whom I can complain about things I wouldn't complain about to anyone else, and he listens and I'm grateful)—but even with him, when I focus on blessings and gratitude—about our children, about our home, about our families—I end the conversation feeling more uplifted and hopeful than the times when I just relieve my complaining feelings by giving voice to them.

I also liked this thought:

Luke chapter 17 records the experience of the Savior when He healed ten lepers. As you recall, only one of the cleansed lepers returned to express his appreciation. Isn’t it interesting that the Lord did not say, “Your gratitude has made you whole”? Instead, He said, “Thy faith hath made thee whole.”

The leper’s expression of gratitude was recognized by the Savior as an expression of his faith. As we pray and express gratitude to a loving but unseen Heavenly Father, we are also expressing our faith in Him. Gratitude is our sweet acknowledgment of the Lord’s hand in our lives; it is an expression of our faith. 

I like thinking that gratitude is not just acknowledging what I've been given, but also having faith that all the things I've been given are good. Since this talk by President Nelson, I'm always looking for faith-filled actions I can take to "move mountains" in my life, and if gratitude really is a demonstration of faith, it seems like an obvious choice. When I'm feeling bad about something sad or hard in my life, maybe trying to speak or write or think gratefully about it—even when I can't quite feel grateful for it—will be the faith-filled action needed to unlock God's power and help me move forward to the next step.

Nice people

A non-exhaustive list of some of the people who have been kind to us, strangers in a strange land. Honestly so many people have been nice. I could include our entire branch and most of the people who have helped me out in various stores in spite of my mauvais français. Something about being new and unfamiliar with everything just makes me feel so raw and vulnerable all the time, so every time someone is especially nice I almost cry with gratitude. Thank heaven for good people all over the world!

1. The sweet owner at a children's clothing store where I was buying a dress for Clementine. She said she "loved to practice her English" and asked me all about life in Quebec, told me to visit the île d'Orléans, gave me some tiny macarons while we talked, and quickly steamed the little smocked dress because it had been folded and she didn't want it to have any wrinkles. She gave me her card and said, "Please call me if you have any questions or problems in the city. Not—you know—not just things about my store. But anything you might need. I would love to help you."

2. The man who came up to us excitedly after a meal at a restaurant and asked us in French, "you have eight children, yes? Four sons, four daughters? It is the same for me. My family—four boys, four girls. It is a beautiful way to grow up." He was so pleased about it, I saw him stop and tell the waitress too on his way out.😄 (Didn't have the heart to tell him we had a couple more boys at home…)

3. The lady who waved me down as I was driving along the street looking for parking in the van and told me about an open spot she'd seen one street over. "I see you often trying to park, and I think you are very brave to drive here in this vehicle." Ha ha. Thank you?

4. Our longsuffering downstairs neighbor, who has come up the balcony and leaned through the back door multiple times when only the children are home to tell them to please be a little quieter. "He's always so nice and apologetic," the kids told me. "He doesn't get mad, he just says, 'it's a little hard to concentrate, perhaps you could give a little less noise?'" Bless him for that. We have finally moved our magnatiles upstairs (they come crashing down, when they crash, with a terrific clatter and we finally figured out that it must reverberate magnificently through the floor) so we haven't heard from him for a few weeks now, and I hope it's been better! We have taken those neighbors a plate of cookies and two loaves of bread now, so I hope that will help keep relations smooth.😬

5. Frère Petryk at church, an older gentleman who is very short ("that tiny man," Clementine referred to him as, and then corrected herself to "he's a middle-sized man") and so, so friendly. He was the first person who came to meet us church, and he carries candies in his pockets for the children and jokes with them in the strongest, most twangy Quebecois French you could imagine. They all run up to him with saluts and bonjours now as soon as we get to church. 

6. The owner of the board game store who has made friends with Malachi and speaks enthusiastically in English with him about the latest games. He called Ky personally when he got a game in stock that they had talked about, and he lets Malachi rent games for a week to bring them home and try them out with the family. His store has been such a happy place for Malachi to go, and to bring Abe and Daisy to in a proprietary sort of way.

7. The lady at the English-language Morrin Library who sends me personal emails now that I'm a "member," to let me know about story time and local library-card discounts and other things I might not have discovered on my own.

8. The owner of the casse-croûte (a little restaurant or "snack bar") we visited near Montreal who sent an employee out to tell us that he thought we had a "beautiful family" and he would like to give us some free chocolate cake. This was after we had all trooped into the tiny dining area like a parade of monkeys, taken up three tables, spilled two cups of water, and failed to have a working debit card and so had had to run across the street to get cash at an ATM. It was surprising and humbling to suddenly have someone do such a nice thing for us. After we'd eaten the (amazingly delicious) cake (made fresh every day by the same lady for 20 years, the employee told us), the owner came out and told us again how "lovely" our family was and took a picture of us in front of his restaurant. We felt so special!

9. The firemen at the fire station on Rue Saint-Jean who let Teddy and Ziggy try on a helmet, sit in the fire truck, and even turn on the flashing lights! They spoke in their limited English to the little boys, and were very pleased with Ziggy's fireman costume (or "habit" as they called it😄). We see them out and about sometimes in their fire truck and they often give a little siren blast and wave to Ziggy.

10. Two men in Deschambault who became so invested in my getting out of a tight parking place that they wouldn't let me give up on it. I had parked for a farmer's market and been hemmed in by other cars while I was gone, and when I came back there were literally just inches between our van and the three cars all around me. I tried one angle and then another and finally decided there was no way to get out besides waiting for the other drivers to come back and move. As a curious crowd gathered (people gawk at our van here; I don't know why because there seem to be plenty of other biggish cars and trucks), two men positioned themselves at both ends of the car and started calling encouraging things and showing me how far I had to go with their hands. At that point I felt I had to keep trying, so with great embarrassment I inched back and forth, back and forth, back and forth about thirty times (I'm not kidding) to their encouraging shouts of "Allez-y!" When I finally cleared the other cars and swiveled over far enough that I could drive away, everyone clapped—for all three of us, I suppose!

The Church of Joy

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week we skip ahead to the present day and write about the October 2024 Conference that just happened! Back to April 2007 next week.

I took almost no notes during this conference! (We have no printer here, so I was drawing coloring pages for the kids half the time, and coloring ones they drew for me the other half!) But I felt so peaceful and hopeful as I listened. Even though almost everything here in Quebec feels so different, Conference feels the same, like being wrapped in a blanket of goodness. When I walked out to the store between Saturday sessions, I felt so sorry for all the people that didn't know about it; who thought it was just a normal day instead of Conference Saturday!

On Sunday morning before Conference started (it starts at noon here; that felt funny because I've never watched it at anything but 10 a.m. before!), I went to attend Mass at one of the churches I've been wanting to go to in the old city. It's one of the few churches that actually still holds services, but they are always on Sunday during our church, so I haven't been able to go before! I walked over through the narrow streets and the parks and the hordes of people shopping and walking, made my way with difficulty across the course of the Quebec marathon going on, lines of people cheering and clanging cowbells all along the street, and finally ended up in the church with a bunch of other people (mostly tourists, from the amount of English I heard) waiting for the service to start. After a while a man went to the front and said that Mass was cancelled because of the marathon, and everyone dispersed rather anticlimactically. I heard one woman say to her husband, "…And just when I thought we'd beaten the devil!" Ha!

But when I got home and heard the familiar sound of the Tabernacle Choir and the organ and the voice of President Oaks—I felt like we had beaten the devil! I felt such hope and confidence in God's plan and how perfectly it is set up to work. I felt excited about preparing the earth for the Savior to come again. This really is the Church of Joy!

Here are some talks and ideas that stand out in my memory (and I'm excited to read the other ones I've forgotten! I definitely remember better when I take more notes!).

• The first talk, Elder Andersen's, about hope was so good! I have always been interested in hope, and it seems especially important lately! I've learned a lot about hope by reading Elder Maxwell. Now I'm looking forward to learning more.

• I loved the speaker whose voice sounded like Elder Kearon's—Elder Hirst, I think, talking about how we are all God's "favorite children" and how we can experience His love. This has been a theme in many recent conferences, I assume because it's something people are struggling with today, but I just read a bunch of talks on the same theme from 2006!

• Elder Renlund (the two compounds that give dynamite its power are like the church and the gospel) was good as always. My brother texted, "Elder Renlund is quickly moving up to my favorite-speaker spot" and I thought, "moving up? He's been there for years for me!" Ha!

• Elder Christofferson on rebellion. While listening, I thought what you are not supposed to think during a Conference talk: "I know some people that really need to hear this talk."😁 I'm sure I need it too!

• Elder Kearon (quickly moving up to my favorite-speaker spot! It's going to be about a ten-way tie up there) has the most beautiful, memorable phrases. And he delivers his talks so well! Commandingly. You can hardly look away from him. "Welcome to the Church of Joy." I love that so much. 

• The "A.I. Elder Gong" joke got the biggest laugh I've heard in Conference in years! Our family kept chuckling to ourselves about it for a long time even after he was into the rest of his talk.

• Sam's friend and former co-worker Sister Yee was really good. Her voice is so soft, but she speaks with power. I was kind of laughing about the idea that Heavenly Father allowed her to ruin part of her painting so she could paint it better afterwards. Not because it is really funny—I can imagine just how sick and awful she felt when it happened—but just at the idea of Heavenly Father thinking, "Hmm, this really isn't looking that great; how can I give her another chance at it?" It's interesting to think about the implications of that for my life. What apparent failures (and even really dumb mistakes) could surprise me by leading to greater goodness later on? And isn't that exactly what God promises when he says He'll turn "all things for our good"?

• I remember more of these talks than I thought! (I am consulting the published summaries to help me.) Oh, Elder Uchtdorf's was so good. Nourishing the roots. Everything else will flourish as we go back to the roots: Jesus Christ and His gospel.

• At least three talks made me feel more hope for youth (hope I need, because I have many worries about many youth!). 

     Elder Eyring's felt like it had a lot of wisdom I couldn't quite grasp yet. His talks are always ones I need to study beyond just hearing them.

     Elder Wilcox's analogy about being Children of the Covenant—chosen specially to be the ship's crew, with higher responsibilities and higher compensation—was great

     Elder Egbo said "Keep fasting and praying and don't set a timetable on God. Trust Jesus with your child." I loved that so much. Can't wait to re-read this one.

• What will the next decade hold for me, for our family, for the church? Intriguing to think about. I loved Elder Stevenson's hopeful thoughts on it.

• Elder Holland's raspy voice reminds me how he is getting older, and how close to death he was. I love him. I'm so glad he is still here to speak to us.

• Is it possible for President Nelson to give anything other than a powerful, inspiring, life-changing talk? No. Apparently not. There was such urgency, such real purpose, in his words—we all felt it. I felt his words about "make discipleship your highest priority" go right down into my bones. There is no time for me to waste worrying about anything else besides following Jesus in every single aspect of my life! I want so much to be His true disciple in word and deed, someone He can trust, someone who always points others toward His love.

The miracle of the parking place

I want to tell you about the miracle of the parking. I'm always a little hesitant with things like this, things so close to my heart. Someone could scoff at them and that would hurt. But also I feel the Historical Record would be so incomplete without it! And I feel like shouting Hallelujah every time I think about it! So here I go.

Last you heard, parking here in Quebec had become unexpectedly manageable. And so it remained, but moving the car all day was definitely an infringement on Sam's working time, and that made me feel bad. He kept reassuring me it was fine, but what he was worried about was when the weather got bad. A little walk to move the car in the lovely sunshine is one thing. In the pouring rain (as he knew from a few days when he'd experienced it) or ice and snow (we could only imagine)—it is quite another. The Danger: Chute de Glace signs everywhere, warning about falling ice, were not reassuring. Not to mention that many of our streets become No Parking Zones on snowy days so that snowplows can get through, and that would make finding a place even harder. Sam and I talked it over a hundred times without any resolution, but the threat of it was looming over us with every day that passed. 

Before we came here I had double-booked another house for the last couple months, one out in the countryside about forty-five minutes away. It was a cute little place and if I hadn't felt led so strongly here to this house, we probably would have ended up there to begin with. I had put off canceling it all this time just in case. I wasn't quite sure how getting out of our lease agreement would work, but I thought I understood that it would be possible with 30 days notice. So we started considering the other house as a way to get us out of the city when bad weather came. But I just could not feel settled about moving. The kids didn't like the idea. We were comfortable here and growing to love it more all the time. And I was nervous too, about the logistics of changing things up, having to drive an hour to church and Costco, re-assigning rooms and whatever else. Still—there would be a driveway to park in!

Finally, after much agonizing, and re-reading of the rental agreement, I got up the courage to tell our landlord we would need to leave sometime in mid-October. He replied the next morning with a polite "So sorry to hear that; the penalty for cancellation is 30 days rent after you leave." I felt SICK as I realized he was right—we would have to pay for not 30 days after "cancelling," i.e. telling him we wanted to leave (like I'd thought), but 30 days after we actually "cancelled," i.e. left the house. So basically…if we moved we'd have to pay for both houses for a whole month. UGH. I had felt sick about making the decision to go to the other house but I felt even SICKER now knowing we couldn't do it without a huge penalty.

So now what???

Île d'Orléans

Twenty minutes away from Quebec City, there's a bridge across the St. Lawrence to an island called L'île d'Orléans. I kept hearing that it was a fun place to visit because it feels like the real countryside. They have kind of a microclimate out there and very rich soil that's good for growing crops, so there are a bunch of farms and orchards and vineyards there. (I think Samuel de Champlain first called it the "Isle of Bacchus," until they decided to change it to please the Duke d'Orleans.) 

Here is the island. It's fairly big compared to the size of the river in that spot (though when you are on the island, the other sides of the river still look really far away!). It has rapidly become one of our favorite places to go! It is so close, but it feels so far away! We have gotten some really good berries and vegetables at farm stands. One place sells blueberry pie that is absolutely amazing. Another place has goat cheese ice cream I just sit and reminisce about from time to time. We are planning to go pick apples at a farm sometime this month. And I wish we could go to one of the maple farms in the spring when they're making syrup! Such a lovely, idyllic spot!

These are a bunch of pictures of various visits we've taken to the island so far—some with all of us, some with Sam and me alone because I wanted to take pictures without a gaggle of impatient children waiting for me, some with just me and Malachi for one of our book lunches. I hope there will be many more!

From far away, you could almost think this was one of our church buildings, couldn't you? It's more ornate, though. There are five villages around the edges of the island, and every one has a pretty church in it. I love that about the towns here. You can always see a steeple soaring out above the trees.

Confidence that He is near

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Morning Session of the April 2007 Conference.

I remember some of the talks from this conference pretty clearly, but even more than that I remember some of the circumstances of where I heard them and what I was thinking about. It was a hard time for me and I remember aching to feel what comfort I could from the words of the prophets.

Elder Scott's talk on prayer isn't actually one I remember, but I was happy to re-read it because it's so good! Every time I read his talks I marvel at his experience with matters of prayer and revelation, and the clear ways he finds to share what he's learned. I loved this insight:

Should you ever feel distanced from our Father, it could be for many reasons. Whatever the cause, as you continue to plead for help, He will guide you to do that which will restore your confidence that He is near.

I had never looked at repentance as this, exactly: something that God wants us to do so that we can feel more confident He is near. It's interesting to think about that. He is near, always; we know that. He is aware of us and loves us. But our confidence about that may ebb and flow based on what we are doing—how much we are thinking of Him, how much we are receiving His love, how much we are sharing His love. So, when we pray, God can guide us to improve in all of those things and thus guide us to a greater feeling of closeness with Him. I love thinking of that as His motivation!

I also related to Elder Scott's description of how prayer can bring inexplicable peace:

…For some time I poured my heart out in urgent prayer. Yet try as I might, I could find no solution, no settling of the powerful stirring within me. I pled for help from that Eternal Father I have come to know and trust completely. I could see no path that would provide the calm that is my blessing generally to enjoy. Sleep overcame me. When I awoke, I was totally at peace. Again I knelt in solemn prayer and asked, “Lord, how is it done?” In my heart, I knew the answer was His love and His concern for me. Such is the power of sincere prayer to a compassionate Father.

I have had almost identical experiences where all I can do is marvel at the miraculous peace God can send. That peace doesn't last forever, and soon enough I must plead for it again, but it is real and astonishing and I can't think of anything that can really compare to it. I need to remember, when I'm in that preliminary state of "seeing no path" out of fear or worry, that I don't need to understand how peace will come—I can just trust that it will come when the time is right and if I pray for it!

Other posts in this series:

More than a few good things—by Rozy

Fête du Travail and other things

Our branch (congregation of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) here had a party for Labor Day which was a great mystery to me. It was something about corn, which is already confusing because it's called "Indian wheat" here. (I learned corn as maïs…but apparently it's sometimes blé d'Inde too.) The party was called "épluchette de blé d'Inde" and the missionaries told us it's a great favorite here, something always done in Autumn, but no one exactly knew why. Épluchette means "peeling" so I deduced it must be something like a "Corn Husking Party."

It actually made sense to me when I thought about wards I've been in and how they've had their Fall party traditions too…the "Chili Cook-off" for example. Some people just LOVE the ward chili cook-off! And here, what they love is the épluchette de blé d'Inde.

(I'm not casting scorn upon loving these things, by the way. I like them too! Fall parties are great! I just think it's funny that there are pockets of people among which a tradition is done every year, "it wouldn't be Fall without it," while in other places it's totally unknown and weird!)

Anyway, the "corn husking" (there was in fact corn to eat, and I did in fact help husk it, but it wasn't really what the whole activity was about or anything) was great. It was fun to see the people in our branch outside of church and get to really talk to them more, and to see that indeed the church is the same everywhere. It felt so different and foreign when we first got here, but then I started to see how many things were the same. The bishopric, for example, looking slightly out of place in their "casual" clothes, diligently cooking something up on makeshift stoves or griddles which took longer than expected to set up because someone had to hunt down extension cords. Or the men wheeling carts of folding chairs out from the gym and crashing them into the top of the double doors because someone put the chairs hanging on the wrong rung last time they were put away. Women running to hunt for mismatched hot pads in the kitchen because a bunch of people are putting their hot casserole dishes on the plastic tables. Kids coming up to help roll the round tables out of the church and getting their toes rolled over in the process. It was all so familiar, I felt very at home even though all the conversations around me were still in French! The church is like its own language.

Ziggy's birthday and the Aquarium

 

Ziggy turning seven is a puzzle to me. He has just been such a funny, quirky, friendly, imaginative, role-playing, neighborhood-wandering little monkey for so long! It seems he should never, and would never, grow up! But seven-year-olds are grown up! They are full-fledged school children! Impossible that Ziggy could be such a thing…and yet, as I think over the last few months, I see that he has been asking lots of questions…wanting to have more serious little talks with me, about repentance and what Jesus is like and who is "the meanest animal"…reading harder stories and writing more words…confidently facing things that used to make him nervous. And so I have to admit that yes. He must be seven! But with hopefully his inimitable Ziggy-ness to remain forever!

We went on a morning birthday walk with him, ending where such walks should always end:

At the boulangerie!

Raspberry pie for Second Breakfast at home 

For Zig's birthday activity, we decided to go to the Quebec Aquarium. I had very low expectations since I'd read some reviews saying it wasn't that big or that great. We have a pretty good aquarium at home so I wasn't even sure we should bother with this one! But we ended up loving it. The polar bear was SO playful and cute and it would have been worth it just to watch him! We stood watching him throw his toys around in the water, diving and leaping after them and tossing them in the air like the hugest most playful dog. We loved it!

Abe and Seb visit

When we said goodbye to Abe and Seb and left for Quebec, we were hoping maybe they could come visit us sometime while we were gone. Seb can fly free on standby because of his job with United, and it's great, but it's not really the same as having a ticket! You have to be flexible, and you have to be at peace with maybe getting stuck somewhere for longer than you'd like! It's a little nerve-wracking when you have a schedule to keep to. 

Still, there was a week in August before school started where Abe thought he could take a day off work and then maybe work from Quebec for a few days. (His MTC job is all online, working with missionaries in other parts of the U.S. and Canada.) And Seb thought he could switch shifts with a few people to get some days off. And Seb is able to get Abe on flights free too if they fly together! So they picked a week, and Seb pored over the standby schedule. There are no direct flights from Salt Lake to Quebec, so they would need to get to a hub somewhere that could get them to Newark or Chicago, and then from one of those two airports to Quebec. And they needed to do it all in one day so Abe could be somewhere to work (remotely) the next day! I know Seb was really worried about making it all work out. He figured out how to get to the right places at the right times so there would be two flight options in case they missed one. And then he figured out contingencies in case they ended up getting stuck overnight somewhere. Worst case scenario, he thought, they could turn around and fly back to Salt Lake and just try to come visit us another time.

So we were prepared, when the day came and the boys texted us at 5 a.m. that they were at Salt Lake airport, that they might not make it all the way to us. All day we got little updates. "On our way to Houston!" (Houston? We'd thought they were going to San Francisco!) "Waiting for a flight to Newark." "Only a few more seats available. Not sure we'll make it on this one." And then finally, "On our way to Quebec City!!" They got in at 11 pm, late enough for us to watch the fireworks before heading out to the airport to pick them up. And we were SO happy to see them!!

Daisy (and Clementine) and Teddy (and Ziggy) vacated their beds so the big boys could have beds. And the next morning very bright and early, I heard all the little kids in on Sebby's bed, jumping on him and asking him questions and excitedly trying to tell him about every single thing they had done in the past two months. They were so happy to see him! And he was so happy to see them! It was so cute for the next few days to see everyone jostling to be the one who sat with Seb, who held Abe's hand, who called them both to dinner. 

Seb had brought birthday presents for Clementine and Daisy in his suitcase. It was so cute! 

Abe had to work some of the first day, but he had a break for lunch so we made sandwiches and went up to the Plains of Abraham for a picnic.

Ziggy's ham!

The kids took up the whole swing set (and then some!)

It was rainy in the morning, but it started to clear up later that afternoon, just as we were getting out of the car to go ride the Québec-Lévis ferry. We had a pretty walk through the basse-ville to get there.

Clementine's birthday, DIY Ballet, Fireworks

We had two birthdays right in quick succession when we got to Quebec. (If Seb had been here with us, we would have had three! Not that he didn't have a birthday of course…but he didn't have one HERE.) I was excited about the birthdays in a new place because I thought it would be fun to see what different little exciting things we'd have to come up with to do.

On Clementine's birthday, Sam and I took her off first thing in the morning for a little "birthday walk" to a boulangerie. (O, that this were a tradition we could have at home!) There's a pretty park we walk through on the way to the bakery (La Boîte du Pain) and Clementine posed, without being asked, next to every flower bed.

As we were walking, to our surprise, we met Malachi coming home from his run. So he got to come with us to the bakery.

The effort to receive

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Relief Society Session of the October 2006 Conference.

This session was so good! I'm amazed that I don't remember it, because these women gave three of the best talks I've ever heard about God's love. I thought it was interesting that Sister Parkin used the word "entitled": "each one of us is entitled—and needs—to feel the Lord’s love in her life daily."

There are few things in life we are “entitled” to, I think. The fact that this is one of them should give us confidence in seeking and asking for it. It’s not selfish to want to feel God’s love. It’s necessary and worth pleading for! But we also have to do our part to feel it.

All three talks give great counsel on how to feel that love more fully. Sister Hughes talks about remembering.

I’m certain that each of you has felt, at one time or another, encircled in Christ’s arms. But if you are like me, there are times when you are fearful, when the stress and busyness of life seem to overwhelm you, when you feel adrift from the Spirit. Perhaps you even feel as though you have been abandoned. When I encounter those feelings, the best antidote is my memory of the moments when Christ’s peace has come to strengthen me.…

I recognize how true it is that life often feels like a great pile of obligations, frustrations, and disappointments. But the Lord is there, always the same, His arms still outstretched. When we feel overwhelmed, we have to remember the peace He has spoken to us on previous occasions. His peace brings comfort and strength; the world cannot give that to us.

As faithful women of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we have been blessed with the Holy Ghost. As we invite the Savior into our lives, the Holy Ghost will bear witness to us of the love which the Father and His Son, our Savior, have for each of us. But feeling Their love is dependent not only on our desire but upon our actions as well. And the actions we need to take are known to us: genuine prayer that is specific and humble, followed by quiet listening for the Lord’s answers; regular scripture study and time to ponder what we read; and, finally, a willingness to be introspective about ourselves and to trust in the Lord’s promise that He will “make weak things become strong unto [us].” As we study and ponder, we are entitled to the promptings of the Spirit, and as we grow more attentive to these promptings, we come to recognize each day the workings of the Lord in our lives. We will find Him, as Elder Neal A. Maxwell stated, “in the details of our lives.” And when that recognition comes, we feel His peace and recognize that we are truly encircled in the arms of His love.

The thing that struck me this time was that even receiving love is a form of effort; a sign to God that we desire more of His love. Ever since President's Nelson's talk about faith moving mountains, I've thought about faith in terms of "action that unlocks miracles." It's not that we demand or deserve miracles on our timetable. But when we act in certain ways, we enable power to flow from God into our lives. (Elder Renlund speaks of that as "activation energy" required for blessings.)  

So, when we find ourselves feeling abandoned by God, we need to exert the deliberate, conscious effort to receive love—clinging to trust that He is there, looking for evidence that it's true, calling up past memories of miracles. These actions and desires, small and weak as they may be, can unlock our ability to feel His love again.

Sister Hughes ends with this:

My prayer for each of us is that we will remember when the Lord has spoken His peace to us and has encircled us in the arms of His love. And just as important, will you, if you haven’t felt that love for a while, seek to see it and feel it as you go about the ordinary tasks of your life. As you do this, over the days and months and years of your life, the memories of those interactions with the Lord will become sweet gifts to open a second time—or many times—to bolster you when life is difficult.

Other posts in this series: 

Eternally encircled in his love—by Rozy

Old Quebec "en tout temps"

Malachi, on his morning runs, was really the first of us to explore outside the immediate neighborhood. He was struck by the street musicians and people he saw selling things out in the pedestrian streets of Old Quebec and decided he want to go out and do card tricks there himself the Saturday morning after we arrived. So Sam dropped him off at the Chateau with a table and chair, and then went home to work while the little ones napped and the girls and Teddy and me walked around the Old Quebec ourselves.

(We never did get a picture of Malachi at his table, sadly. But he did make, as he described it, "Twelve Canadian dollars and fifty Canadian cents.")