It's A Miracle . . .

The very first blog I ever read was Becky Irvine's. I loved reading her blog then and I still love reading it now. But one thing she did that I enjoyed was look for the miracles in her life and write about them. Whether they were large or just small tender mercies, I always enjoyed hearing her experiences.



So this morning, while sitting in church, I began to think of miracles that have recently occurred in my life and decided I needed to do a better job recording them so . . . here is #1.



A few weeks ago I bought some jewelry as a gift. As I was saving it to give later, I put it in a small bag and then placed the bag in a "safe" place. But, when I needed to retrieve it, I could not remember where it was.



This isn't really surprising. I am always playing the game, "Where are my reading glasses?" (usually on my head) "Where are my car keys?" (anywhere from outside on the porch to inside the washing machine), or "Where is my purse?" (you don't even want to know). So the fact that I was once again needing to find something I put down, was not very alarming.



But after I searched everywhere I could think to look, I began to worry. It is true I could replace the jewelry, but it was fairly expensive and I had ordered it over the Internet, which meant if I had to re-order, I would need to wait for it to be delivered and I wanted to give it away the next day.



I offered a quick prayer for help, and continued looking--still without success. Then I talked with one of my daughters who asked me if I had prayed. I told her I had, but not necessarily with "full purpose of heart." So after hanging up the phone, I knelt in prayer.



This time I explained the situation. I told how I had purchased the jewelry as a gift and although I could replace it, I would prefer not to waste the money that was already spent. I expressed my belief that I could receive help, and prayed for direction in finding it.



All through my prayer I kept thinking that it had to be in my closet. That just made the most sense. So when I finished my prayer, my intent was to search the closet again. However, instead I walked into my bathroom and opened my linen closet. I was a bit perplexed as to why I was there, but thought to myself, "Okay, I guess I will look here first, and then search the bedroom closet." Just as I was about to close the cupboard door, I noticed a small black sack in the back, up against the side of the closet. I opened the sack, and there inside was the jewelry.



I was so very grateful for such an immediate and powerful answer to my prayer. I felt as if an unseen power took me by the shoulders and directed me to the bathroom, since I thought rationally I should be walking in a different direction. I have no idea why I would have put the jewelry in there, but I was so grateful Heavenly Father heard my prayer and took the time to answer it.



I have had answers to prayers before, but this is one I am sure I will always remember. To me . . . it was a miracle.

Cheating Death on I-15!

They say when having a near death experience your life flashes before your eyes. That may have been the case for us last Friday while driving from Utah to Arizona, if it hadn’t been for the large truck that was blocking our view. In fact, it was coming straight at us!

We left American Fork around 8 a.m. and headed home after spending the week visiting family. Wes had flown up to drive home with me, but he was sick (still is, poor boy) so I drove while he slept. Our plan was to follow our regular route (Panguitch, Kanab, Page and home) but I became so involved in a book on CD that I missed the Panguitch turn off. Deep in thought over who was betraying who, and whether or not the hero and heroine would ever survive the Colombian drug lords and have a future together, I drove right by. However, we quickly applied the “This is better” policy and decided to continue on through Las Vegas, a town my daughter, Michelle, had never before seen. Instead of the normal boring trip home, this was going to be an adventure!

And that “adventure” nearly cost us our lives.

Just north of Las Vegas, on I-15, I looked up and saw a large semi truck heading north on the freeway blow a tire. At this time Wes was driving (he took over after I missed the turn:-) and I am so very thankful! I yelled to him to look as we watched the truck careen out of control, go off the road, cross the median (which was a steep hill covered in gravel) come up another smaller hill and onto our side of the freeway. The truck bounced from side to side, and swerved back and forth as the driver struggled to keep it upright.

Wes hit the brakes thinking the truck would pass across the freeway in front of us, but as the driver took a turn north and headed up the freeway in our direction, he pressed his foot hard on the gas pedal, and swerved off to the shoulder of the road, allowing the renegade truck to pass right where we had been. Barely missing being hit head on, we were pelted with gravel and debris for several seconds.

It is interesting to me that while watching it all unfold, I never felt we would soon be the guests at a closed casket funeral. I was totally calm. However, as soon as it was over, the debris settled and we were safely stopped along side of the road, I started to shake. Even days later we are not quite sure how we avoided being hit.

It truly is a miracle we were not killed. It is even a greater miracle that no one else behind us was hit either. The driver eventually brought the truck to a stop leaving only a trail of gravel and stopped cars with terrified passengers in his wake.

But the experience did fill us with gratitude. We were left be grateful for yet one more day of life to be lived, to be with family and friends, to laugh and to love and of course to find . . . joy in our journey.

Thank Goodness for Divine Intervention!

I have always read and loved the stories in the scriptures about the Lord helping Moses free the children of Israel, giving Ammon the strength to cut off the wicked Lamanite’s arms and of helping Nephi get the plates from Laban. But I had never completely believed that the Lord would help me achieve the seemingly impossible in my church callings until I was called to be the stake primary chorister.

When the high councilman extended the calling to me to serve in the stake primary I laughed. I honestly thought he was joking. I didn’t lead music, I didn’t know the primary songs and I couldn’t sing. When I realized he was serious, I expressed my concerns to him. All he did was lean forward in his chair, look me in the eyes and say, “Don’t worry, Sister. The Lord will bless you with all the talents you need to fulfill your calling.” With that he stood and left, assuming I guess, that I had accepted.

I decided that learning the songs wouldn’t be too difficult, and I could teach myself how to lead music, but I knew there was no way getting around my bad singing voice. The highest note I could hit was a B flat and most of the primary songs are written for soprano voices. I learned to work around my lack of talent, however. Whenever I needed to present a new song at a leadership meeting, I enlisted the help of others who could sing.

Then one day, the primary president asked me to teach a song by singing a line of it and having the teachers repeat it. This meant that I would have to sing alone in front of all those in attendance. What made me even more terrified was the knowledge that many of those attending the meeting were well known in the stake for their musical talents. I immediately began praying fervently for help in fulfilling this assignment, even though I had no idea how the Lord would help me.

After practicing the song many times, I reached the conclusion that I would only be able to sing it if the pianist played it in a lower key. She agreed to do that which helped calm my fears. When the dreaded day arrived I stood to teach the song. I was amazed at how clear my voice sounded. Instead of the customary breathy squeaks, I heard clear strong notes. Afterwards I had several people come and tell me what a nice singing voice I had.

Following the meeting I went to thank the pianist for playing the song in a key low enough for me to sing. She looked surprised and then said, “I'm so sorry. I forgot. I played the song in the key it was written.” It was only then that I began to realize just how much of a miracle I had witnessed. Never in my life had I been able to sing notes that high.

The next morning I was still thinking about what happened. I decided that I would try singing the song again and taping it this time so I could hear my voice. I turned on the tape and began to sing. When I played the tape back, however, it was very apparent that my old voice had returned. Now, several years later, even though I have never again been able to sing as well as I did that night, I will always be thankful for the time when I found out for myself that the Lord really will bless us with all the talents we need to fulfill our church callings. And that knowledge has brought great . . . joy to my journey

Day of blessings and miracles

Yesterday, Saturday, February 7, was a day of blessings and miracles. I began the morning by attending the sealing of one of my former seminary students, Ciara. I can remember when Ciara was born. Her mother and I served together in the young women's program and were expecting babies at the same time. We later moved away, but then Ciara's family also moved to our stake and I had the privilege of teaching her in seminary when she was a freshman. It has been fun to watch her grow, go away to college, serve a mission and now be married to her sweetheart.

I was so happy to be able to attend the sealing, but what brought even greater joy was to look around the sealing room and see five of my former students there. Besides Ciara, there was her older brother Jordan and three of Ciara's good friends. I was talking to the friends after the sealing and one of them, Natalie, said to me, "Isn't it so wonderful to all be here together in the temple?" It was. So much so that when I saw them all there it made me cry. What a wonderful sweet blessing that was.

In the afternoon, I was able to help set up for the reception. This brought such deep feelings of gratitude to me for the women in my ward. We joked that it was a "United Order" reception, in that many people brought the decorations they had, and all together it was absolutely beautiful. There were so many wonderful women, willing to dedicate their time, money, and resources to make the reception a success. I was so touched by all their selfless service.

And then in the evening we received a tremendous miracle. The weather report called for rain beginning around 6 p.m. and the reception began at 6:30. Everyone involved had prayed during the week that the rain would not come during the reception--as it was being held out doors. Michelle (Ciara's mother) told us she explained in her prayer that she didn't mind cleaning up in the rain, but asked that it not rain during the reception.

The reception ended at 8:30 and at about 8:20 we started feeling little sprinkles. By 8:30 it was a downpour. The next hour of cleanup was wet and cold, but there wasn't anyone there who did not appreciate the miracle that had occurred, especially when we heard that around 7:30 it was pouring rain only a half mile from where we were. What a sweet blessing that was and what a wonderful day I had.

Lastly--as long as I am writing about blessings, I want to add one my father received. While on his mission in Argentina nearly 60 years ago, he tracted out a home where he left a pamphlet with the teen aged daughter who lived there. He then was transferred and never knew what happened with the family. Several years ago, while teaching at BYU, he met an MBA student from Argentina who told him his mother was the girl he left the pamphlet with. She joined the church, married and raised her family in the gospel. Well, a couple weeks ago, my father read in the Church News that this same young man was just called to be a mission president.

So you never know what influence you might have on others. Leaving that pamphlet that day was such a simple thing, that did not appear to bear fruit, and yet, sixty years later, people are still being blessed because of it---and will continue to do so.

And there you have my day yesterday, and the many blessings that brought great . . . joy to my journey.

I Believe in Miracles

Those who read my last post know my husband is home today recuperating from surgery and looking like the star of a Rocky movie. Last night, as the swelling in his face increased, so did his pain. Only half an hour after taking his pain medication, he was asking for more--which I did not give him. (I felt bad about it, but I also didn't want him getting sick on pain meds) So, instead he asked for a priesthood blessing. I called our neighbor, who called another friend and they came over. Providentially a third friend also showed up at the same time so all three participated.

Afterwards they visited for a few minutes and then the men went home. Wes stayed up though, checking emails and getting a snack. Half an hour after he would have been able to take his pain medication again, I asked him if he wanted any. He declined. He said that the second the men placed their hands on his head the pain stopped and he hadn't felt any pain since that time. He had a relatively good night's sleep and is now insisting on going to his church meetings tonight--despite the fact that both his eyes are nearly swollen shut.

Men! Gotta love 'em! But how thankful we are for priesthood blessings and that we live in a day of miracles!