Swimming in the Summertime

My grandmother owned the most awesome swimming pool. She owned an apartment complex in Inglewood, California. Her large apartment was at the front of the complex, the other apartments were near the back, and between them was a large gated garden with a patio and a pool. The patio and pool area was surrounded by large, leafy palm trees and beautiful bird of paradise flowers, and the seating area had cool pool decor, like fishing nets and buoys. When we went to visit her, I could hear people laughing and enjoying the pool. Splash, laugh, splash, laugh. It all sounded wonderful. I wanted to go swimming. I begged and begged to go.

One day, when I was about four, my parents and I were visiting Grandma. My Aunt, Uncle and cousins were visiting too and....wait for it....we were going swimming! In the pool! I was SO excited! I had my suit on and followed my Dad down the long path, through the gate to the pool area. He opened the gate, and there it was...the beautiful sparkly blue pool! I couldn't wait...I ran towards it, so excited...and jumped in! Splash! I can remember hearing yelling as I was running, 'Stop!' and, "Paul, stop her!" but...I was four. I didn't know how to swim. And now, in the water, I realized I didn't know what to do next. I'd only heard the splashing and laughter, I'd never actually watched anyone swim. So I came up to the surface and as my head popped above the water, I could hear yelling. My Grandma yelled, 'Paddle!' and I heard another splash. I tried to think, as I sunk back into the water what 'paddle' meant and tried to do it. But it wasn't helping much. And so as I bobbed back up, I realized that while splashing was fun, the whole pool thing was maybe not so fun, and As i began to sink again, I got a little scared, and just then, two big strong arms wrapped themselves around me, and my Dad lifted my head out of the water....and even though I was scared, I smiled and was happy because I could feel the safety of his arms around me,

Now I will tell you something I have learned about myself since that day. I have learned this because I have asked and my Heavenly Father has shown it to me. And I have learned from the insight. First, I learned that that entire scene had been played out before in my life. Not in my life on this earth, but in my life before I came to the earth. My pre-earth life. In our pre-earth life, we learned about the great Plan of Happiness. How we would come to earth, gain a mortal body, learn and be tested. And we learned that hopefully we would make wise choices, that would allow us to return and live with our Heavenly Father. The scriptures tell us we shouted for Joy at the thought of coming here to earth. I recall my pre-swimming pool self, and I know that my pre-earth life self was much the same...I was excited! I wanted to come here...I was eager for life on this earth. What's more, as I was surrounded by my Heavenly Father's perfect Love, I had perfect confidence in my ability to swim. I knew God loved me, and would help me and I knew I could gain instruction about what to do. And so I couldn't wait to be here on this earth.

So now, here I am in this big, glorious pool called life. Sometimes we splash and play. Life is fun, we're enjoying ourselves. We have learned to swim. I've learned to plan, to dive correctly, to be careful. Those lessons have made the experience better, more enjoyable. And other times, I discover that I'm in over our head, I don't know how to swim, my arms are growing heavy and I am sinking. But I wanted to be IN the pool! I'm almost ready to sink again. And that is when the joyous miracle happens: I have learned that when I do the best I can, and then ask for His help, my Savior makes up the difference. He brings peace to my weary soul. He lifts me up so my head is above the water and I can feel the sunshine on my face. It is at those moments, when I rely on Him most, that I feel the warmth of His arms, and it gives me Joy.

Behold the outstretched hands of Christ, Our Lord, who came to save.
Whose love and grace redeem our souls and lift us from the grave.
Though bruised and battered as we stray, His guiding hands caress.
He washes and anoints with oil,
Then in His arms we rest.

Behold His wounded hands and feet! Come touch, and see and feel
The wounds and marks that you may know His love for you is real.
Then as you fall to worship Him and wash his feet in tears,
Your Savior takes you in his arms
And quiets all your fears.

(from Behold the Wounds in Jesus Hands by John V. Pearson and David R. Naylor)



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Lift up the hands that hang down....

Baggage claim is probably not an unusual place to meet your future mother-in-law for the first time, but it might seem like a strange place to get a lesson in kindness and compassion. In an odd sort of way, it's an appropriate place to offer help to others ("May I help you with your bags?"), and yes, even to give comfort. I like the idea that as we claim our own 'baggage' we should lift the burdens of others.

Robert's nephew's wedding was just a few days off, and his mother and brother had come to town to attend. This would be my first time meeting them both. I was comfortable and nervous at the same time. But that's another story.

As we entered the baggage claim area, Robert's mother called our attention to a young woman waiting to claim her bags. She explained that they had sat together on the plane. The woman was returning to her home after having buried her mother, who had died of cancer. Mom said, "My heart just breaks for her, she has had to face this all alone." Then I watched Robert move to the woman's side and as he assisted her with her bags, he offered condolences, compassion and hope as he shared his cancer journey (which at that time was limited to the cancer of his late wife) and tender encouragement. The whole thing took just moments. She turned and I saw a smile on her tear-stained face. But as he turned back to me, he had a sort of sheepish look on his face. He whispered to me, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to leave you standing there, I just had to say something to her to reassure her." I assured him that it was a good thing to do and I wasn't offended in the least, in fact, I was pleased he had done so. You see, I already knew that about Robert, and it is no surprise that this has been the pattern of our lives ever since; to lift those around us and give tender love and support to others. I am certain that Robert is better at it than I am.

As my boys prepared to serve their missions, a particular song became a sort of theme song in our home. The words explain how, although sometimes we are timid about sharing the Good News of the Gospel, the Lord gives us the strength to speak, and by so doing we too are changed. The song is meant to be about missionary work, but it applies to so much more in life. As we listen to, lift and help others in their journey, the testimony we bear of truths we know become stronger and we too are lifted and strengthened as a result. Many times, a question I have faced has been answered as the Spirit gives me words to say to help someone else. It makes me want to dance for the joy I feel...that God loves me so much to guide me as I help others and by so doing help myself. I never want things to always be the same, I want to savor and enjoy every moment (every experience) that comes into my life on this earth. I want, no, I need the strength and peace that comes from lifting others and from bearing testimony of wonderful eternal truths. I find so much peaceful joy as we visit with our children and grandchildren, with our friends and even with strangers. I am certain that God loves me, that He has a plan for me and for my family. He has shown me over and over again that His plan is SO much better than anything I can imagine in my little mind, and His tender mercies remind me that I- we- are in His hands.

And so, this morning, as the phone rang and a stranger somewhere in New Jersey explained how she had gotten Robert's number from the Cancer Survivor's Network, I know it will be a joyous day, because I hear him say, "The thing that gives me the most strength is my faith in God and keeping a positive attitude." And I remembered the woman in the airport and her smiling, tear-stained face.

Lifting the hands that hang down in sorrow,

Strengthening knees that bend in despair,

Reaching the hopeless hearts who do not know His love,

Seeing their lives begin to change, I know I'll never be the same.

How can I keep this gift to myself when I can lift somebody else?

I am a witness of His miracles and His mercy.

I put my future in his hands knowing He's made me all I am.

When I put my faith in Him the truth begins to speak.
His power is real, It moves me until I will not be still.

~("I Will Not Be Still", by Tyler Castleton, Staci Peters, and Greg Simpson)

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In the Garden after Dark

I cut a hole in my garden gloves accidentally. It's what happens when you deadhead roses in the dark. Luckily my finger wasn't in the end of the glove when I cut it! I was anxious to trim the roses because, well, because I knew that doing so would bring more roses. But there's more to it than that.

My knowledge of how to care for roses could be fit into a thimble. And why learn? Robert knew everything anyone would want to know about roses. He knew how to fertilize, prune and carefully cultivate them. ‘Our’ roses, for they became mine too after our marriage, did well in the Arizona heat. The 17 plants in front of our home would produce fragrant blossoms every year. The beautiful blossoms made me smile. I love roses, and I love them without knowing a thing about how to grow them.

One Saturday in March, I asked Robert to teach me about roses. He carefully explained each process, I hoped I would remember all that he taught. Then Robert grew tired, so he went inside to rest, and I worked in the backyard garden. I sat at the edge of the garden box, forcing myself to plan the spring garden. I couldn’t concentrate, and soon my mind wandered. Wearily, I finally allowed all the fears that had been swirling about in my mind to assemble into a threatening cloud in my mind.

Robert’s cancer had returned. I knew it, he knew it. We talked of it in distant phrases, but tried to keep hope alive. We had found a new treatment that offered a tiny hope for a cure. Robert taught me to care for the roses that day, but we hoped he would continue be the one to take care of them, as always. I looked up. Dark clouds had gathered overhead, matching my mood. I began to pray. I told the Lord about my sadness while I worked. I wanted to know “What if…?” As I was whining to the Lord, I noticed that some of the tomato plants hadn't dried up and even had blossoms and fruit on them (this is a bit surprising, I'm not an expert gardener by any means), so I decided to leave the tomatoes in and see what would happen. I also noticed that the broccoli had gone to seed and wondered if I should try to glean the seeds and if I did that, would they actually grow? And all of these thoughts were included in my prayer; I decided I really needed God’s help with everything, even the garden.

Then I felt my mind being led, and I recalled the metaphor of The Gardener. I remembered similarities between this garden, pruning, weeding, pulling out the dead and withered plants; and the garden in my heart. That garden was beginning to wither too. What would the Lord do for me, I asked? What would happen to Robert and I? And what about the garden at my feet? I just wanted the garden to grow. I wanted my happy life to grow, too. I wanted everything to grow with a minimal amount of work and pain and struggle. I had no sooner thought or prayed that, when the thought was impressed upon my mind: "Your garden will be successful. Yes, it will require some work from you, but you will find peace and comfort here and when you see the beauty of it, you will be reminded how much I love you." Peace wrapped around my heart like a warm blanket. I recognized this tender mercy. Tears sprung to my eyes as I was reminded of God's great love for me.

I happily went to work, preparing the garden. I pulled the dried dead plants from the earth, and raked the soil so it was smooth and ready for new seed. I moved a reclining chair into the garden area. I hoped I wouldn’t need to retreat to the garden, but I happily prepared so that I could find peace there if I needed it.

A few weeks later the garden had been planted and was doing well. Every time I watered it, I remembered my experience. This remembering was good, because Robert was in the hospital again. He had undergone eleven hours of surgery in the hopes that all of his cancer could be removed. But it was not to be; there was more cancer than could be seen on any scan. Robert was going to die very soon. The surgeon wept as he told me, “He will probably just waste away.” I thought of the dry and withered plants in the garden and cried too. Two days later, while Robert was still recovering, infection tried to invade, and he was taken back to ICU. In the late, late hours of an endless day, I trudged to my car in the hospital parking lot. I needed to return home and sleep. Robert was to undergo yet another procedure very early the next morning. I slept for what seemed like an instant, and awoke in the dim light of dawn, to return to the hospital. I wanted to give Robert a kiss before they wheeled him down the long hallway once again. As I began to back out of our driveway, something unusual caught my eye. Roses. And not just a few roses, there were literally hundreds of them. The rose bed in front of the house had erupted into a fragrant explosion of colorful blooms. I stopped, trying to take it all in, remembering the day we spent together right there in that place. And then the words returned to my mind, "When you see the beauty of it, you will be reminded how much I love you."

And that is how I came to be in the garden after dark, deadheading the roses. The peace I received that morning was wonderful. I wanted, no, I needed more. I understood in a way I never had before, how my garden is my life; there will be withered plants, there will be thorns and noxious weeds, but after all of my meager, pleading and prayerful efforts, there will be roses. Evidence of God’s great love for me.

"Every falling tear is always understood; Life is hard, but God is good."


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Even when it hurts

When I first walked in to Robert's hospital room after surgery, the first thing he said was, "I made it! I'm here, and I'm so happy to be here." Those words recalled a conversation we had had days before, when I asked (in a moment of insecurity), "If something happened during surgery, and you were given the choice, would you choose to come back or would you go on?" His answer was that he wanted to stay here on earth longer, that there was much he wanted to do and enjoy here on earth, that he wanted to spend more time with me, with his children and grandchildren. (I have to tell you that I was relieved, I wanted him to stay, too, but I also wanted for him what he wanted and what the Lord wanted, but that's another blog post.)

Our conversation reminded me of the words to a song I have sung, "I love this life, even when it hurts, even when I'm weary from the race. The power of Heaven lifts me up in this day of Grace."
Here we are on earth, with mortal bodies that, in a time before, we were excited and happy to obtain. More importantly, we chose to come and get these bodies. Now, here we are with our mortal bodies, and one of the conditions of mortality is that we will have pain. It will come- physical pain, emotional pain, all kinds of pain.

But as I write this, my mind wanders through some other pathways; we have come to earth so that we can learn and grow- to increase in intelligence. Here I am sitting in a hospital next to my sweet husband who is experiencing extreme physical pain. Doctors and nurses bring contraptions and machines, drugs and therapies to relieve his pain and hopefully restore his health. All of those treatments were developed because people wanted to learn, grow and increase in intelligence so that they could alleviate the earthly pain of others. IF there were no earthly pain, 'men' Would not have been driven to learning these things. The plan is pretty tremendous, isn't it? Give men agency and let them choose for themselves how to handle mortality. I am SO glad someone chose to discover medical treatments that help my sweetheart! I love this life! We get to learn! We might feel pain, but we can also choose to find peace and joy.

And that is the conundrum of earth life; that God created us that we might have joy, to find joy, even in the midst of pain and trials. For me, the key has been to keep an eternal perspective, to constantly remind myself that 'all these things' are for our experience, that I have been given all that is necessary for me to learn and to have joy while on this earth. I try to keep my trust in the Lord Jesus Christ—trust in His love, mercy, and power, and trust in His timing. I have learned that I have more joy when I resist thoughts of anger, bitterness, or despair, and when I act with faith in Christ to do His will, no matter what comes. I daily remind myself that the Savior sees the end from the beginning. His will is the very best thing that could ever happen.

"I love this life, even when it hurts, even when I'm weary from the race. The Power of Heaven lifts me up in this day of Grace."

The Savior of the World

What's your favorite Christmas song? Do you like the 'tinsel' songs like, "Winter Wonderland", or do you like the spiritual ones, like "Silent Night"? Or maybe you like the completely silly ones like, "Grandma Got Run Over by a Riendeer"? One year I told my kids (ages 4 to 14 at the time) that one was my favorite and they said, "Mom, that's not even a nice song!" LOL What can I say? Most Christmas songs have great meaning to me (ok, except the Grandma one), so I can't usually pick just one. But lately, I've settled on one I always like to sing at Christmastime. My kids would say it's not really a Christmas song, but...well, let me explain.

Several years ago (wow, it really has been several years, now), I was blessed to be asked to be part of an amazing presentation our local church was giving of a musical called "Savior of the World". You can usually find the presentation being done in Salt Lake City every year around Christmas time, but many of the smaller, local congregations have given the presentation as well, and that is what we were doing. I was thrilled...mostly because it was a musical presentation and I was asked to be the musical director (um, did I mention I love music?). I was looking forward to learning new music specifically about Christ (yep, I was secretly hoping to find a new Christmas song). And the music is AMAZING! Every song is scripturally based, and each began to take on a deeper meaning to me as we rehearsed.

As a (then) single woman, my heart's desire was to have an eternal sweetheart, I could relate to the first song, sung by Elizabeth and Zacharias, "I"ll give God forever....give my plans, and give my dreams"...the song was about the patience they struggled to cultivate while they practiced their faith that God would deliver on his promise that Elizabeth would bear a child, but each of us can relate to having a desire of our hearts and learning to rely on God for the answer, and it was especially poignant for me. Elizabeth's own prayer was answered in a most thrilling way. I, too, wanted to "...Give God forever and then give one day more." It's a beautiful song, it still means a great deal to me, but it doesn't quite fit the bill as a new Christmas song.

Then we move to the scene of Mary and Joseph discussing the her miraculous pregnancy...the young man playing Joseph was my own son, and Mary, a beautiful young woman who later became his wife (happy, happy, joy, joy!). Their duet is beautiful, they sing, "O Lord, My God, Come to me this day, let me see, help me know....teach me to hear they voice". I could relate to the struggle Mary and Joseph must have as they worked together to listen and obey God's voice while those around them might not have been supportive. But Mary and Joseph persevered, and with joy, they sang "...I will Praise thy Holy Name". I want to sing that, too! The song is everything a Christmas song should be, but even with my loved ones singing it, it is still not my favorite.

Rehearsals for such a production begin many months before the actual performance. Many things happen in our 'real' lives during those many months, and my life was no exception. One evening, just before a final rehearsal began, I got a call that another of my sons was in the Emergency Room. I went to him. It was scary. Really scary...he was in pain. I cried for his pain. Eventually he fell asleep. I began to relax and while I pondered, I heard and felt the music being sung that night at rehearsal, "Come, Lord Jesus to the wounded. Broken heart and bended knee, Worthy Lamb, thy love unbounded, bid our souls to rest in thee." Peace filled my soul as I was reminded of the most wonderful sacrifice, the redemption offered to everyone. At a time when my heart was frightened, I found incredible peace (yes, even Joy) in the testimony that Christ has and will again, "Come in glory to the earth"....but...that was not a Christmas song.

The story continues...in the presentation, we see the stone rolled away from the tomb and witness many of those who believe Christ is resurrected and those who still have doubts. There are times when each of us have doubts about life We practice faith in Christ, but sometimes we have unbelief. Sometimes. The words of Thomas are for all of us, "I searched with my eyes, but I was blind. By His mercy, eyes of faith I find. Lord, what I asked a-fearing Thou answered with they love. O Lord, My God, I will believe." This is for me: I WILL believe. I DO believe. And I feel renewed, in Christ and I am overjoyed!! (But...this is not the Christmas song, either).
I am like all of those who first saw the Savior on Earth. I am like the Shepherds who ran with Joy to see the humble Baby in a manger and wondered what He would do for me. I am like those who stood at the empty tomb and believe that He lived and yes, I also am like Thomas, who had some doubts. I am sometimes like those who walked with him on the road to Emmaus and didn't realize He was walking beside me. But most often, I am like Mary who came looking in the wrong place for the Risen Lord and instead found him right beside her calling her name- He knows me! And then, in the deepest feelings of my heart, I KNOW:  "Jesus, Once of humble birth, now in Glory comes to earth. Once he suffered grief and pain, now he comes to rule and reign. Come, Lord Jesus, Come!" (and that is my newest favorite Christmas song).

Merry CHRISTmas!

Grateful (yes, in December)

Ok, I'm dreadfully behind...at least as far as blog posts go. :) When it comes to being ready for Christmas, I'm pretty much good with it, but I've been thinking a lot lately about gratitude, and since Thanksgiving was last month...see, that's why I'm behind.

So I've been thinking about gratitude. A lot. And not just lately, but for the last few months or so. I could go into some long explanation about it, but...let's just say I've really come to understand how incredibly important gratitude is for our souls, for our spiritual selves, and to give to others. Way back at the beginning of December, I was walking in to a store when I noticed the Bell Ringer Person (you know, Salvation Army bell ringers?). I thought to myself about how last year there was a big uproar about stores not allowing the Bell Ringers to be outside, so I thought that it was neat that this store had one. I went inside, all the time wondering if I actually had any cash to put in the bucket. I don't carry cash much, and I didn't buy anything inside, so when I came out, all the cash I had was six quarters and three pennies. I dropped it in the bucket, feeling almost silly, but the girl smiled and said, "Thank you! Merry Christmas!" Oh right...CHRISTmas. Wow. It made me smile...I felt good and then it spread..... I felt Joy! I thought about it all day and felt Joy all day, over just a little thing...over $1.53 to be exact. I thought about how her gratitude was part of the Joy I felt all day. It made me think about all the THINGS I have...and all the blessings (you know, the ones that aren't things), and that dropping my little coins in the bucket was part of showing the Lord how thankful I really am for all those, um, things that aren't things. I have SO much! There's the Good News of the Gospel to start, my Savior. There are so many wonderful people in my life! So much that brings me Joy, so very much to be thankful for.

A few weeks ago, my sweetheart started a new treatment for the cancer that has plagued him since just a few weeks after we were married. Before that happened, he had to undergo the usual tests to see exactly what was happening. And the results of those tests were pretty much amazing. The largest cancer spot that was there is shrinking...the smaller ones are now no longer visible on a scan. It was too much...it was everything we hoped and prayed for, and now the Dr. says it and...I'm numb. It took days for it to register....and then I could hardly contain myself once it did. Shrinking!! SO much to be grateful for, and I almost missed it. How many other little things...little teeny, non-life-and-death kinds of things, do I miss being grateful for?

I love this song...and every line is a lesson, so I can't even just quote one or two. Read the lyric for yourself:

GRATEFUL

(by John Bucchino, as sung by Brian Stokes Mitchell)



I’ve got a roof over my head
I’ve got a warm place to sleep
Some nights I lie awake counting gifts
Instead of counting sheep

I’ve got a heart that can hold love
I’ve got a mind that can think
There may be times when I lose the light
And let my spirits sink
But I can’t stay depressed
When I remember how I’m blessed

Grateful, grateful
Truly grateful I am
Grateful, grateful
Truly blessed, And duly grateful

In a city of strangers
I"ve got a family of friends
No matter what rocks and brambles fill the way
I know that they will stay until the end

I feel a Hand holding my hand
It’s not a Hand you can see
But on the road to the Promised Land
This Hand will shepherd me
Through delight and despair
Holding tight and always there

Grateful, grateful
Truly grateful I am
Grateful, grateful
Truly blessed And duly grateful

It’s not that I don’t want a lot
Or hope for more, or dream of more
But giving thanks for what I’ve got
Makes me so much happier than keeping score

In a world that can bring pain
I will still take each chance
For I believe that whatever the terrain
Our feet can learn to dance
Whatever stone life may sling
We can moan or we can sing

Grateful, grateful
Truly grateful, I am
Grateful, grateful
Truly blessed And duly grateful
Truly blessed And duly grateful

So here's my Pre-Christmas promise (ahhh, maybe I'll say I'm ahead of the game and call it an early New Year's goal?), to remember, every day, to count my gifts, for I do believe that whatever life brings us, our feet can learn to dance. We can feel JOY, we can be thankful, even in our trials. And for that, I am truly grateful.

What it's like to feel JOY

Today was the children's program at church. Each year, the children prepare a special Sacrament Meeting program, based on a theme with songs and short talks. Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles, sometimes even neighbors and friends are invited to attend and watch the children share the things they are learning in Primary. I will never forget the first Primary Children's Sacrament Meeting Program I participated in, as a child. My grandmother was going to come! We were still rather new converts to this church, and this would be her first experience attending our church with us. I think my Mom was worried about what Grandma would think. I was just worried about singing the songs well and giving my part. That year, we opened the program by singing, "I Am A Child of God". I could feel the truth of the words of this song every time I sang it, and Grandma did too. 'I am a Child of God, and He has sent me here; has given me an earthly home with parents kind and dear.'  I will always remember the way I felt as I sang, the truth in the words of the song and the happiness I felt and knowing the gospel filled my soul with JOY. For years afterward, Grandma spoke of the way she felt as soon as the children began singing that song, how it touched her heart, and bore witness of the same message. The Primary Children's Sacrament Meeting presentation is one of my favorite Sundays, even when I'm one of the leaders!

This year's theme was "I Know the Scriptures are True". Our little Primary children did a great job!! They sang beautifully, most remembered their parts and didn't get too nervous when they stood and looked out at the entire congregation. We had asked some of the children to share their favorite scripture stories. Lots of the boys liked the story of Daniel in the Lion's Den. There were a couple of shy ones, who would speak right into the mic, then get super quiet and whisper the rest of their part when they heard the amplification. We had a little box for the youngest (smallest) children to stand on, so they could be seen over the podium...nearly every boy jumped off that box when they were done giving their part. I could see their parents in the congregation smiling and cringing at the same time. I know they hoped their boys would act reverently, but, well...as any mother of six boys will tell you (oh, yeah, that's me!), little boys have a hard time ACT-ing reverently when they FEEL happy.

We closed the program with the children singing a song, "Scripture Power"...it's a fun little song with a catchy tune and beat and the children love it. They especially love the chorus, when they punch the air, sometimes with their scriptures in hand, and sing, "Scrip-ture Power keeps me safe from sin! Scrip-ture Power is the power to win! Scrip-ture Power; every day I need the power that I get each time I read!" There was one little boy who just couldn't contain himself, he shouted between the phrases "Scripture Power!", and at the end, several boys literally landed in their seats! I looked out and saw parents, grandparents and lots of others, smiling with tears in their eyes....and remembered the way I felt that very first Primary Program many (many) years ago, and I knew they were feeling that too. They felt JOY. These little boys, jumping off the box, pumping the air and singing (shouting?) 'Scripture Power'...they were feeling JOY too! I had a secret thought about how those little boys would someday, hopefully, be JOY-ful missionaries, and how much JOY they might bring to others with the Gospel. Isn't it great?!

So that's my thought to ponder this week; when I feel JOY, I feel energized and confident. I feel like singing!! (well, that's just me...I like to sing!) I want to take time each day to recall those feelings and why I chose this gospel...and be JOY-ful!