Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupré

Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupré is the name of a cathedral (and the town by the cathedral) not far from Quebec City. ("Sanctuary-Shrine," its website says. And basilica. So…not a cathedral? I don't know.) We see signs for it every day, and we see the spires of it in the distance when we drive to L'Île d'Orléans or up the river toward Tadoussac. But we kept putting off actually visiting it…because it was so close and easy, I guess. I kept weighing it against other excursions and thinking, "Well, we can go to Sainte-Anne anytime…" Finally when the Fall weather was at its best I thought, "Won't we be sorry if we miss it altogether!" So we packed our obligatory picnic (truly, you have never known such picnickers as us on this trip…it borders on the absurd) and went.

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Healing power and hope

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

I remember Elder Oaks' talk from this session with a great weight of memory. When I read it, I immediately travel back to that time. It's not a happy time, not easy to write about. At the time of this conference, Sam and I were divorced. Yes, we divorced for a brief time. There is so much backstory and context I could put around that statement, but it's not something I've ever wanted to hide—just something that's hard to bring up out of nowhere, especially since our life has (thanks be to God!) moved on to such a happier place now. (And if you're thinking, "Well, I'm sure it wasn't her fault!"—it's not true. It was my fault.)

So when I heard Elder Oaks say his first words—"I have felt impressed to speak about divorce"—I knew he was talking to me. But not in the usual, benign way, "the Lord inspired this message and it feels like it could be just for me!"—no. You see, my parents are friends with Elder Oaks and I knew they had written to him about my circumstances. So I was pretty sure this talk was actually written because of me. As I listened to it at this difficult time, I didn't disagree with any of his points. I wasn't even offended when he said things like…

The kind of marriage required for exaltation—eternal in duration and godlike in quality—does not contemplate divorce.

and 

I strongly urge you and those who advise you to face up to the reality that for most marriage problems, the remedy is not divorce but repentance.

and

Think first of the children.

I knew he was right. I even agreed with him, in theory. But I felt great and far-reaching despair because I assumed I had already failed, already forfeited my chance at obeying these doctrines.

The story of the next few months and years is too much to be told here—I would tell you in person, if you asked me. For now I will just say that Elder Oaks' advice that in a marriage, both spouses

should balance current disappointments against the good of the past and the brighter prospects of the future

—felt literally impossible to follow for me at that time. I saw no brighter prospects and I could hardly believe in them. Only unbroken dimness ahead as far as I could imagine. I'm sure Satan was working as hard as he could to make me believe that was all there would ever be, and I believed him, for a time. But now I can see that Elder Oaks was right. There was a much brighter future ahead. And I also believe in this promise as I could not dream of believing it then:

Under the law of the Lord, a marriage, like a human life, is a precious, living thing. If our bodies are sick, we seek to heal them. We do not give up. While there is any prospect of life, we seek healing again and again. The same should be true of our marriages, and if we seek Him, the Lord will help us and heal us.

Re-reading this talk brings, as I said, a great weight of memory with it. In spite of all I've learned since that time, I'm still learning and processing my experiences. I still feel sadness thinking back on them, though the sadness has mellowed. Oddly, I found peace this time in reading the talk that came before Elder Oaks' talk, by President Faust about Forgiveness. He quotes Brigham Young as saying:

Every trial and experience you have passed through is necessary for your salvation.

I know this doesn't excuse sin and it doesn't take away agency and consequences. But it is comforting doctrine. I can see many so ways I have grown since this, and in part because of this, difficult time. Those lessons were necessary for my growth. There were significant blessings along the way. And Sam's and my marriage has grown too. I look back now, as I could not then, with the perspective that President Oaks described for couples who worked through marriage difficulties:

[They] emerged with their marriages even stronger. That prospect began with their mutual commitment to keep the commandments, stay active in their Church attendance, scripture reading, and prayer, and to work on their own shortcomings. They “recognized the importance and power of the Atonement for their spouse and for themselves,” and “they were patient and would try again and again.”

And I can be thankful for this most important lesson of all, one I began to learn from divorce many years ago and and am still learning now through my continuing experiences:

All who have been through divorce know the pain and need the healing power and hope that come from the Atonement.

I do know that. And I am grateful to know that. These experiences are leading me, as Brigham Young said, toward salvation, and I am so thankful that they are!

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Isle aux Coudres and the beautiful fall leaves

I've been trying not to panic over enjoying Fall here (or rather, over not enjoying Fall enough while it lasts) because it's fine, we are enjoying it, it will last however long it lasts and I'm trying to embrace the idea of winter as its own beautiful season too. Do you feel reassured? :)

However, considering how much I love Fall* in Utah, I knew I would love it here too and that's enough to have galvanized me into getting the family out-and-about even more than I would normally want to. Or, as Malachi described it in his letter home—"This week we picnicked like as we might have been teddy bears or something. We embarked into the cool fall weather to eat outside at least 3 times in 6 days." Yes. This is true. I just don't want to live a life of Quebec-Fall-regret!

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Whale watching

It was so lucky we could reschedule our whale-watching trip when we had such rainy, foggy days! I don't suppose we could have seen anything beyond the boat in the fog, and we would have been so miserable and wet! As it turned out, the clouds cleared in early afternoon as we drove up the coast to Les Escoumins, and by the time we arrived the weather was sunny and clear!

I was surprised when I found out there were whales in the St. Lawrence River at all! Apparently they sometimes (rarely!) swim all the way even to Quebec City, but they love the estuary area up where the St. Lawrence widens and the fresh water from the river and salt water from the ocean start to mix. (You can see the fjord at Tadoussac, a little southwest of the red dot here. Whales and dolphins like that spot too.) I guess there are lots of plankton and other things to eat in these areas because of the turbulence of the mixing water.

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Charlevoix

We went on a little trip up the St. Lawrence River to the Charlevoix region. It was funny to go on an overnight stay to a different house while living at our Quebec house. For some reason it made us feel even more like Quebec is "home"—to go away, miss our house and our neighborhood, and then return to it.

Our main purpose for going was to go on a whale-watching boat—I had heard that this was a good place to do it and it just sounded fun! But it was fun to get to stay a little longer and see a little more than we would have had time for on just a day trip to Charlevoix, too.

It was a foggy, rainy day when we left.  The road goes up along the river for a while, but then it goes up through some mountains. It got SO foggy as we drove through the mountain roads! It was a little scary and I was glad Sam was driving, not me.

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Parc national de la Jacques‑Cartier

There is a national park only a half hour away from Quebec City and we'd been wanting to get out there. Finally we found a time to do it! When we got there, the main road into the park was closed and we were sad because the hike we'd wanted to do wasn't accessible. But the ranger recommended another hike and we ended up loving that one, so it was just as well. The weather was so nice! Not too hot. Not humid. Just beautiful.

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Now is (still) the time

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

Probably the line from the most recent General Conference that hit me the hardest was President Nelson's counsel that "now is the time for us to make our discipleship our highest priority." Then I ran into a second witness—Elder Hales from 2007:

Now is the time to become a disciple of Jesus Christ, which means accepting His invitation to “come, follow me.” This is the decision we made in our premortal lives. Now we must make it again here in mortality, every day, in every situation by taking the Savior’s name upon us, remembering His atoning sacrifice, and keeping His commandments.

If it was the time in 2007, and it's the time now (and luckily also "it is neither too early nor too late for you to become a devout disciple of Jesus Christ,")—it seems pretty clear that this should be something I'm paying attention to!

Other posts in this series:

What does it profit?—by Rozy

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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.

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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."

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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!

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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???

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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!

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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

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