He Bled in the garden
Then rose from the tomb
He did it to save us
From what we would do
We needed a Savior
A perfect soul
To pave us a path
That could lead us home
He's felt all our pain
He's cried all our tears
So when times get hard
He'll always be near
This past weekend was by far a weekend I will never forget. I was blessed with the chance to spend time with my little brother and other family that I have missed. I felt the spirit exceedingly strong this weekend, as I was humbled to the realization that my plan is not the Lord's plan. As I premeditated plans I desired to occur each day, it seemed as if nothing was working in my favor and frustration consumed me. However, as my plans failed, greater opportunities arose where which incredible incidents would have never been experienced.
We were blessed to meet some great new people whom we would have never met if our plans worked out the way we desired them to and as a result blessing us with the amazing opportunity to visit my little brother before we left. I'm so thankful for the Lord's patience with me and this weekend was evidently the answer to my prayers. I have doubted whether I should move away from my family in order to go to Utah for school. I had prayed and fasted about this decision and yet I had done everything I could to try and talk myself out of leaving my home, but this weekend was just what I needed to know that everything would be okay. It seems like this week at school was so much easier and everything seems to be falling into place as doors and windows keep opening for classes, work and housing in Utah. As someone who likes to plan things and what, when, and how everything will happen, it has been a humbling experience for me to just let things happen. Even though these situations have been just a small spec of color in within the big picture, I am still grateful for the opportunities and experiences Dwina and I had this weekend.
Thought of the Day: Don’t put limitations on God. He will provide no matter how impossible it may seem. It the Lord wants it to happen it will. “The lessons we learn from patience will cultivate our character, lift our lives, and heighten our happiness. Patience is the ability to put our desire on hold for a time- is a precious and rare virtue. We want what we want, and we want it now. Therefore, the very idea of patience may seem unpleasant and, at times, bitter. Nevertheless, without patience, we cannot please God; we cannot become perfect. Indeed, patience is a purifying process that refines understanding, deepens happiness, focuses action, and offers hope for peace.”- Dieter F Uchtdorf
The Room – Story about what Jesus does with our Sins
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for one wall covered with small index card files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings.
As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “People I Have Liked.” I opened it and began flipping cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.
And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match.
A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I have Betrayed.”
The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. “Books I Have Read,” “Lies I Have Told,” “Comfort I Have Given,” “Jokes I Have Laughed At.” Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I’ve Yelled at My Brothers.” Others I couldn’t laugh at: “Things I Have Done in My Anger,” “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.” I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.
I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my short life to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my own signature.
When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts,” I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.
An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them! In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards.
But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore “People I Have Shared the Gospel With.” The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than 3 inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.
But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?
Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.
“No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, no,” as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.
He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.”
I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
When I mentioned to a friend about Jake going on his mission for 2 years and told him I won't be able to see him or talk on the phone with him for those 2 years. I was ask why would a young man be crazy enough to leave his family for 2 years to go and teach about a religion and why would his family let him go? 
Photo by: Sheryl Seiler
Friends are a blessing when good times turn bad.
