Today marks the ten year anniversary of my baptism into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I approached my baptism ten years ago with a great deal of deliberation but even then I could not ever imagine the significance and importance it would make in these past ten years. It is not something that I have ever taken lightly. I understood from the beginning that this decision would come with a great deal of speculation and criticism but for ten years I have been able to walk in confidence with my decision because of the many spiritual confirmations that I am exactly where I need to be.

When I met Kyle, I was so taken with his sheer joy. His smile emanates from within Him and the more we talked about his faith, the more I realized that his happiness had a great deal to do with his beliefs. The year we dated before he left on his mission we talked every night on the phone and I would grill him relentlessly on every aspect of his faith that I could think of. He didn’t always have immediate answers or answers at all to every question but he was willing to study it out and try his best to explain to me many of the misunderstood beliefs.

Each time he would come back with such sincerity that it was hard not to let down my walls and truly listen. Even so, I never let on that I was intrigued. I strung him along with question after question and he never knew that I was waiting for the right time to officially express interest.

You see, I still couldn’t discern whether I was interested because of him or because of the beautiful beliefs themselves. I decided that I would have to wait until he was far away with our only contact being snail mail.

A month after he left, my desire to learn more remained and I sought out the missionaries.

My very first lesson with them I was asked to be baptized and surprisingly, “yes” came out of my mouth. We were sitting in a small library at a church building with another member who had joined the lesson. The room was bright and warm in contrast to the dark and gray Seattle sky. When the yes came out of my mouth, even I was taken aback. The look on the missionaries faces were of sheer delight and I remember thinking, “Did I just say ‘yes’?!?”

I am often plagued with indecision and I couldn’t believe that I had so quickly responded in the affirmative. It was as if my spirit had leaped out, confirming what my heart truly desired.

The weeks that transpired only confirmed that initial choice as I was taught about a living Christ and my relationship to Him and my Father in Heaven. I was still so nervous getting baptized, even after saying yes, but then the missionaries showed me a video of the current prophet and president of the Church at that time testifying of Christ. It was a simple testimony. He bore witness that He really was who He said He was. He really did all that was written of Him. He suffered for each of us, died and rose again so that we too may all live again. He is the Living Christ and offers us the hope of life eternal and true and everlasting joy. The video ended and we sat in this quiet, sparse room and the missionaries asked a simple question, “How did that make you feel?”

As I sat there, I grew speechless from emotion. My whole body surged with confirmation of truth. I finally uttered the words, “I believe him” and I did. I believed that Savior really was the promised Messiah, not just for people who lives thousands of years ago, but for you and me. I believed that He really did heal and suffer and die and rise again and that in modern times He continues to reach out to us in guidance through prophets and a living church.

I left that room that day confident in the direction I was heading.

 

These past ten years have not been absent of questions and trials. Things aren’t always rosy and perfectly bathed in light, but each time as I struggle to understand something or work my way through a trial I always come back to that room, where I received my very first confirmation of  truth.

My confirmation came from finally knowing and believing Jesus Christ. This knowledge has carried me through my darkest moments. In the depth of grief and pain through losing a child I was angry and confused and so incredibly hurt. I didn’t understand why this happened, why to me, what does it mean to die before you are born and as I wrestled for weeks with so many questions, there was never a clear answer to all of the “why”s. I wanted to understand so badly but each day as I prayed and pondered, the answer that continuously came was, “Some things we don’t get to know in this life, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still grow.” I struggled to find comfort in the unknown. To stand still and confident in this earthly life trusting in the kind Heavenly Father I had come to know. Trusting in His goodness and in the grace of His son. Walking in faith that the path forward was still a path worth traveling.

So I continued forward, looking for the ways I could grow. Looking for ways to serve, ways to better understand grace, resting within the truth of my initial choice so many years before; that I was exactly where I needed to be.

I am grateful for the many experiences that have occurred over the past ten years, experiences that confirmed that initial truth. I am grateful that my testimony began with its foundation upon Christ and that each doctrine, each principle, each truth that I come to understand is built upon that foundation. Every nail and beam directs me to Him. I see His grace and love even within the complications and the unknowns and it overwhelms me. I meet people who have had trials and struggles and questions and I see them looking towards Christ in all of it as well and I am speechless.

Many find our temples beautiful and they absolutely are. But in my ten years of being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the greatest beauty has come from seeing imperfect people trying to be His hands on this earth. I see people trying to serve and help those around them especially with their own struggles and trials. I see beauty in doctrines and ordinances that bring peace and joy into the lives of many. I see beauty in the principle that each of us has a right to receive revelation for ourselves, that we are all directed to seek out truth and I witness people seeking it!

I think about that moment where I dressed in a dorky white jumpsuit and entered a warm pool of water and I remember how it felt to be lifted up from immersion. I came to life! Afterwards, I fell to my knees in the bathroom and uttered a sincere prayer of gratitude that I had never before expressed. The world was the same as it had been a minute before but a spark ignited within me that day and it has only grown stronger. My spirit was filled with hope and light and pure joy.

Ten years ago I bound my heart to Jesus Christ and in making that covenant I promised to follow Him, to trust Him even with my limited understanding, to have faith that His grace would cover all of my weaknesses and failings and pain.

I continue to walk forward in that faith, knowing He is always right beside me and knowing that I am still exactly where I need to be.  

 

When I started my shopping ban in January, my main focus was to save money so that we could purchase a home. Not shopping made a HUGE impact on our finances and allowed us the ability to accomplish that goal only six months into my challenge. In the same month that we finalized buying our house and moved, I had committed to a community theater production and found out that I was pregnant with our fourth baby.

I didn’t think much of it at first as the nausea hadn’t started and I was excited about a new home and performing again. However, the stress of balancing two major life events and spending a massive amount of time rehearsing caused me to slacken my grip and lose focus on the ultimate reason I was doing this shopping ban.

It wasn’t to be able to purchase a home, it was to be conscious about how we spent our money, to reach a financial freedom that didn’t result in the constant pursuit of “new” that masks our human desire for perfection.

I am not saying that I have been horrible and shopping a ton, but I have certainly made some purchases that broke the shopping ban.

At first I justified them because I had not considered the fact that we would be renovating a fixer upper in January and would need to purchase not only paint and brushes but curtains and a bench and a dresser and the list grew and grew. Living in our tiny duplex, I hadn’t even considered home goods being an issue because we had no need for them. Our dressers were destroyed hand-me-downs but they served their purpose. We only need the four chairs for our table. Blinds came with the duplex. It was easy to avoid those aisles at the store.

Home items haven’t been the only issue though. Being pregnant for the fourth time had me looking at my maternity wardrobe with frustration. Most of the things that I have were purchased second-hand during my first pregnancy and at this point were falling apart. I have also always had summer babies, and here I was staring at a pregnancy that would end in January. That is a very different set of clothes. So I have bought myself two pairs of jeans (second-hand), a pair of leggings, a sweater (second-hand), two dresses (one was technically a gift from Kyle), and a shirt that I don’t groan with annoyance looking at for the billionth time. A local mom gifted me a maternity coat and I am feeling much better about reaching January. However, the whole summer I have been trying to figure out how to justify these purchases to people who knew I wasn’t shopping. In the meantime, a new school year and my birthday approached and I bought some art for our home and school clothes for Max (half of it second-hand and half new-new). I made a trip to Target a few too many times, usually for totally reasonable purchases only to find myself wandering other aisles and finding something that I had been making due without for six months. I could go on and on, but ultimately I came to the realization that I had totally lost focus on my purpose for this whole challenge in the first place.

It shocked me how easily and slowly it had happened.

I knew I would make mistakes, but I so badly didn’t want to disappoint anyone who was watching to see if it was even possible.

Talking with Kyle last night, I expressed my disappointment and he reassured me that I had not done as badly as I thought, only that maybe I had lost focus and avoided the need to reassess when changes occurred and that really the whole point of this challenge wasn’t really to buy a home (that had only been a tangible goal) but to learn to be more thoughtful and purposeful when buying things.

Learning is part of the challenge, so some mistakes will happen.I want to finish strong though. I want to be proud of myself for the efforts that I made to change the way money is spent and used in our home and so with the help of my husband we came up with a revised challenge that acknowledges the fact that we are working on a fixer upper and are expecting a baby after the new year. So here it is:

Criteria for Purposeful and Intentional Purchases:

1. Assess with whether a purchase is a want or need. The key to this is being honest with oneself which is really hard to do when surrounded by hundreds of tempting items. Sometimes finding a less cluttered area or even closing your eyes (I have totally been that weirdo who looks like she is meditating in an aisle) helps to find clarity when you feel overly stimulated by a plethora of choices. The store provides so many options leading us to ask, “Which do I want?” when in reality the question should really be, “Do I actually need this?”
2. Purchases should be either beautiful or useful to us. It should be something we love, not a temporary fix or something purchased because of convenience. Is this something I will always want is a great way for me to determine whether I find it useful or love it. This is especially true for finding items as I make a house a home.
3. Ask myself, “Does this align with my long-term goals?” It helps to have concrete goals you are working towards. After purchasing a home I didn’t have a concrete goal and that is part of why I lost focus. My new goal is really focusing on our student loans. This way, each time I make a decision I can think of our student loans (which I hate and make me sad) and decide whether or not the purchase is worth it. Is it worth spending the money on some buckets of blue paint for our living room now or can I wait and make the best of what I have? After all of your thoughtful suggestions from last week on the house update, it made way more sense to hold off on painting until another time. I would rather spend that money toward student loans or in this case, shelves by the fireplace for all of our books.

Sometimes starting this shopping ban feels like the worst idea ever, but only because it requires a lot of self-reflection on your weaknesses (which is never enjoyable). Even just nine months into this, I have discovered so much of my growth comes from acknowledging shortcoming and working towards building them into strengths. That’s life in general isn’t it? We can spend a lifetime fighting to ignore and dismiss our weaknesses, but when we physically, mentally, and spiritually take the time to look into ourselves, the truth is there and working toward aligning ourselves towards it brings a more rewarding feeling than any half-priced discount we could ever find.  

p.s. All these pictures are from a trip to Lake Tahoe at the end of the summer.

Yesterday, Daniel turned two. He is a bright ray of sunshine. He is expressive and loves laughing. When he signs thank you, he blows a kiss. He is quick to shake hands and give out hugs.

He has a lot of love in him to spread.

He gets mad sometimes and tries to scream and although he is usually very loud in all other things, his scream is so contained and quiet.

He has been slow to talk and prefers to tug me around the house and point instead. We are both frustrated by this.

A couple of months ago he started to want to sleep with Max’s lovey, James the dog (we bought two identitical stuffed dog animals and buried one with James), and was frustrated that he didn’t have his own. I pulled out our meager assortment of stuffed animals (not many survived the purge of 2013) and he selected a hippo that someone else had given to Max after James died. To say my heart surged when I realized the connection is an understatement. I am so happy they both have a lovey they cling to at night that is connected to James.

“Hippo” is also one of the few words he willingly offers up.

Danny has taken up the hobby of removing his socks and shoes as much as possible. His feet have plumped up and my theory is that all shoes feel tight. He wanders a majority of the time barefoot and free. Anytime he steps on something he sits down to investigate the bottom of his foot (he is well aware of what slivers “owies” are by this point) and notify me if anything is awry.

He loves his scooter and rides it around our back patio constantly. For a long time he just pushed it backwards like some tiny toddler walker and still does it often.

He has an epic scowl with a full eyebrow furrow. This is how he lets you know he is displeased that things are not going his way.

They refer to a baby born after loss as a rainbow baby and I would say that Daniel fits that bill perfectly. He provides so much reassurance of God’s love and grace. He is a constant reminder that there is good in this world. Whenever the news gets me down I just put down my phone and stare at his and his infectious smile. His excitement for everything is contagious.

Happy Birthday Danny boy!

Remember Blue Beauty? She is much less blue. Unfortunately we are at a standstill with making her feel completely like home.

I initially wanted everything white because the blue was so overwhelming (remember everything was the color of the fireplace: walls, trim, ceiling, door). Once we pulled out the groovy carpet and resealed the floors (I say we but this was all Kyle, this was the best part of going through the first trimester) thing improved significantly but I still was unsure and Kyle wanted to paint before we moved in so I said “MAKE IT WHITE!” Which he actually hated. He was like what about a different color on the walls? NOPE. Maybe a dark trim. NO WAY. I was firm, resolute. But then it took me three weeks to pick whites. Yes, multiple whites. I wanted to match the trim to the rest of the house for continuity so we have Benjamin Moore Dove White on the trim and Benjamin Moore Simply White on the walls and some basic ceiling white that Kyle grabbed (Fun secret we learned, you can take pretty colors from Benjamin Moore and Home Depot will match them using their Behr paint making it MUCH cheaper to paint many walls white). It looks exactly the same as our Benjamin Moore samples that we tested colors with.

I know that it there doesn’t appear to be much difference but the trim is more gray-white and the walls are more cream-white, AND I DON’T WANT TO HEAR OTHERWISE!

But now we are at a standstill because we are trying to figure out where to put all of our books. Stand alone shelves look odd by the fireplace. We are thinking built-ins? Where do we put the tv then? Kyle votes for above the fireplace and I would chuck the thing if I didn’t love it for allowing me time to shower. Maybe along the opposite wall of the couch? With pictures behind it? Maybe some plants flocking either side? Or if we do go with above the fireplace what do we do with the rest of the space? Ideally I want an L-shaped couch and possibly some other seating.

Makes my head hurt just thinking about it. Any and all ideas are welcome. (Please please please help!)

Also, I am leaning towards painting the walls again. I know, I know, I spent three weeks deciding on a white.

But…I have a specific blue-gray in mind that I think would create the warmth and brightness I crave in a home. I needed this blank slate to get the ball rolling. Kyle rolled his eyes at first but secretly he is happy that I might want something other than white. If we did that, the fireplace would be painted white and the trim would be kept white as would the ceiling.

My hope for this home is to make it warm and inviting and cheerful. I want to honor its 1925 history, revive it a bit.

It has been exciting to get to dream up ideas and concoct plans and it is most definitely a learning process where I am reminded of my extremely fickle ways.

Life has been full and vibrant lately and not just because of the new house. I also started rehearsals this week for my first musical since high school and along with that I am helping with a school auction. It feels a little crazy, but it has actually been so good.

It is forcing me to use my time more efficiently and maximize quality connections with the boys. It is not as balanced as I would like it to be, but it is just week one and I suspect after the auction everything will feel much more balanced.

Back to the musical because I am sure you are all SUPER curious. A local theater company is putting on The Little Mermaid and at the last minute I decided auditioning wouldn’t hurt anything. I am in the female ensemble which entails me playing a myriad of roles: sea creature, animal, maid, princess, etc. It has been so fun meeting in the evening and just getting those creative juices flowing again in the company of wonderful people. I forgot what a treasure it is to be part of a production regardless of your role.

I felt a bit of guilt choosing to audition and participate, wondering what kind of sacrifice to my role as mother it would be. I worried that I would feel guilty spending any time away from the boys (a condition that comes when you spend almost 100% of your time with them). I want to be present and connect and in a moment of revelation I realized that I could use this opportunity to make more of the time I do have with them and to utilize free moments at rehearsals to ponder and gain perspective on how to become better. It doesn’t have to be either/or, it can be beneficial for everyone. In that moment I felt a great deal of peace. I am learning that finding that balance of sacrifice and self-care in motherhood is hard work, and an ever-evolving process.

Snapshots (okay these are from last week…but I can’t write a post without pictures):

Max, 4.5 years old

Daniel, 20 months

Have a wonderful weekend!

I broke my shopping ban…well not really, but sorta. The whole point of the ban was to utilize all the money saved towards greater goals. One of those goals was to find a house for our family and one afternoon, with nothing else on the market to look at, this beauty caught our eye.

I expected the process to be much different and the way it all occurred was nothing like I had imagined. I imagined days spent convincing Kyle with all that I had, I imagined be twitter-pated every time I walked inside, I imagined something in a different spot, and ultimately it happened much differently.

I was shocked with how overwhelmed I felt making the decision to purchase a home. It felt so momentous and daunting and especially for this fixer upper we were taking a chance on. But day after day, every time I would doubt and hesitate, Heavenly Father reassured and brought peace.

We got the keys last night and this morning the boys and I took a little trip the house, in the glorious morning sunshine.

My heart sang. As I walked in each room, observing it with fresh eyes, eyes of ownership, I could once again imagine and dream up future memories.

This lady has great bones. She is solid and steady and with some fresh paint and elbow grease, I think it is all going to work out splendidly.

Introducing!

Blue Beauty!

Blue carpet, blue walls, blue trim, blue fireplace…..Oak floors underneath the shabby carpet and a painting party. This room is easy. (There are also two windows on either side of the fireplace that at some point in time someone covered inside…..Why? Why would anyone do that? At some point in time they will be resurrected!)

Upstairs bathroom. Nice low sinks for Daniel to turn on and off…I expect locked doors or high water bills.

Project #1: Main floor bathroom. Check out that wallpaper! Metallic! Pink! Seashell outlines! Also, no shower…This bathroom is going to be gutted, showered, and made super pretty a la cheap Home Depot white subway tiles! I ain’t going down to the basement to shower (where the only shower resides…).

I kinda get the blue in this kitchen, but not the pink. Or the olive green stove. I mean I get they were a thing…but there is a lot going on in this room. Everything functions though, so this one will be on the back burner until finances allow.

My favorite of the wallpapers.

Lilacs in the backyard! And roses! And raspberries! And a white dogwood tree! It’s like my own secret garden.

This backyard needs some manual labor. There are a lot of weeds and poky bushes but it will be conquered! Feel free to join my battalion. So far I have two recruits who just like playing with the water spigot.

A covered patio! (It’s not crooked, my picture is.)

My little Einstein (his hair!) mastering the front steps

Pretty girl.

One of the greatest things about this home is the basement rental unit. The rental will allow us to fix her up and aggressively pay off student loans at the same time.

She wasn’t exactly what we were looking for, but she is exactly what we need.

(More pictures to come)

The morning schedule changes each day. I never know when Max will open his squeaky door or if Daniel will groggily cry out from his bed. I sit on the couch, often forgetting to open the blinds that let precious sunlight in. Some mornings I tuck my feet under me and sit beneath a fuzzy blanket waiting, letting myself become lost in the early morning hum online. Other mornings I continue to lay in bed, never wanting to escape the warm weight of blankets until I hear those first sounds of children waking.

In one moment, as soon as one child wakes, it is as if a light switches on, the morning becomes an erratic flurry of activity. Sometimes we listen to music, sometimes books are read, clothes get put on early or late, food is demanded instantly or soggy bowls of cereal are pushed aside. Toast is requested 3 times or not at all.

Motherhood is much less certain that I thought it would be.

Beyond the fairy tales and picture perfect daydreams, beyond hopes and goals, I find the minute details of motherhood particularly unpredictable.

It drives me a little batty.

I hear so many voices and requests and pleas throughout the day that sometimes it feels as if I cannot distinguish between my own thoughts and my children’s vocal outbursts.

I needed a reset. A couple of days where we left our messy routine and did something completely different. My hope was that novelty would bring about new thoughts and ideas and fortunately it did just that.

Over spring break, I took the two boys on a trip to Seattle with the purpose of getting away from normalcy.  We woke to beautiful sunshine each day–a Seattle spring miracle! We visited animals at the zoo with my brother and played with friends at a playground. We walked, just us, around the arboretum waterfront and got dumplings with a friend for lunch.

It was total bliss.

I found myself filled with an increased joy and love for my children. Fresh perspective allowed me to see how capable and funny Max is and how sweet and adjusting Daniel can be. As we walked along a bridge, Max skipping in front of me towards Marsh Island, a moment of clarity came.

I love motherhood.

It’s responsibility and weight can be exasperating but in that moment, it felt light as air, its divinity remembered beneath the glorious Seattle sun.

I felt capable. I felt renewed purpose. I felt immense hope for the years ahead.

As I have thought about it, I wondered why it hit me with such intensity away from home. Surely, a fresh canvas helped, but is it always so hard to see within our everyday?

Then I remembered.

At the end of each day, we have a set bedtime routine. Pajamas, brushing teeth, scriptures, family prayer, and once finished we play follow the leader into their bedroom where hugs and kisses are given. They know the routine and it feels much less harried. I think of those moments when I hug Daniel and Max and notice within those expressions of love all the frustrations and impatience of the day wash away. My role as a mother, as their mother, lifts my heart and soul. A weight lifts. I see with clarity the fundamental nature of my role as a mother: to love these children with intention. As we exchange “I love you”s, I feel that purpose fulfilled and refreshed and imprinted.

They know a mother’s love and in turn, I understand it better.

It doesn’t always take a trip away to see divinity within our everyday, but it definitely can help.

Spring has sprung and for the first time since I started this no shopping challenge, I really want to shop. Something about the change in weather and all the blooming flowers has me obsessing over cute dresses and easy basics. It is especially hard when the internet inundates you with visions of donning new duds.

I have mentally recited this saying often:

Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.

It has become my mantra as I focus on aligning my choices with my values. Mostly I just chant to myself, “do without, do without,” because more often than not, that is the result. Does it seem sad? Sometimes it does, sometimes you just want a new shirt. But more times than not, I come to peace with this idea of doing without.

There are very few things that we need and when I decided to be realistic with myself about what I really needed, what really was necessary, going without has become easier. Instead I look for inspiration online and shop my closet more, I have gotten much more creative and the challenge to wear something “new” is stimulating and fun. Really!

I borrow. Earlier in the year, some friends wanted to go sledding with us but didn’t have a sled. We had one and I decided that we could just buy another so that everyone would get a turn as much as possible. But of course, that didn’t feel right and how often do you use a sled? It would just sit in the garage for the other 9 months of the year. Then I remembered my mom had this old wooden sled at  her house, so we headed over there and borrowed it for the afternoon. It made the entire experience way more memorable because we found out quickly that you need to wax wooden sleds so that they actually move down the hill. It made for a great sled for the little ones though and because it was older it had a rope so that the adults could just pull around kids like a dogsled. Borrowing is a lot easier than it seems. I used to feel weird about borrowing things, that it was socially proclaiming my frugality. But the more I do it, the more I see how willing people are to share their own belongings and help one another. An added bonus is that it teaches my children to care for the belongings of others and how to resolve things if something gets damaged, like the bike pump I just borrowed and Danny ripped.

Reuse. Kid drawings become wrapping paper. Toys are rotated. Time is taken to mend a sweater. I search storage for something that I was almost resigned to buy again and I find it. What we need is often something we already have, but it takes a mental shift to see it, to search for it, to conjure it up.

Sometimes this effort does take extra time, but in the process I feel myself strengthening the path that aligns with my values of why I am doing this whole thing. To focus on what lasts, and ultimately I see this process teaching my children that we do not have to concede to every whim and desire to buy we feel. That creativity can go a long way and that in the process of it all, we are growing together.

One other note:

Each year I create a team for the March of Dimes to walk in memory of James. I wasn’t sure I was going to do it this year, but in the last minute I decided that it was a tradition worth carrying on. So, next Saturday we will walk for James in Yakima. Anyone who wants to join our team is welcome to do so. You can join online and make it super official, or just show up. All information about the event is in the link below. If you feel inclined to donate in James’ name, that would be wonderful, but ultimately I just want to walk and talk with friends. Thanks for always being so supportive of my family!

The James Effect March of Dimes Team

 

 

I bought a small bouquet of tulips yesterday and they sit in a vase on my table, a cheery assortment of yellow, orange, pink, and red. Buying them is a small act of celebrating Easter this weekend, a way to remind me that this weekend is holy and should be marked as such. These tulips, with their bright disposition, remind me of the joy that Christ offers through His Atonement.

There have been a lot of wonderful links around the web that have helped me focus on the Savior this week and I wanted to share two quick links with you.

What if Their Were No Easter? was such a good read. I appreciated the thoughtful and heartfelt writing immensely.

The video below is so wonderfully done. I love its message of joy in knowing we can see loved ones again.

This week was wonderful. As strange and confusing as the world is sometimes, this time of year with flowers blooming and a focus on the resurrection of Christ remind me of the light and hope that always exist. It just depends on where you focus your attention.

Snapshots from this week.

Max, 4 years

Danny, 18 months

Have a joyous weekend!

For most of my life I knew of Jesus Christ.

In bits and pieces collected from sporadic trips to church and a stint in a private Catholic school, I gathered knowledge about Him. Where He was born, how He died, when He was resurrected. I remember watching a movie about the Parable of the Sower in a religion class. A resolute and majestic looking sower walked along a path, casting seeds on various terrains. Some grew, some didn’t. I remember watching the seeds in the good ground, a rich and dark brown, sprouting up; the lively green stems looking up heavenward. The movie ended, lights flicked on and I went home that day with a resolve to be good ground and a desire to know more about God and Jesus Christ.

That desire lay dormant for a few years, watching those around me professing their beliefs with conviction. They seemed so assured and confident, I wondered how they knew Him.

There were times when I would sing a hymn during mass and I would feel a chill run down my arms, every sense tingling with truth. I loved those moments, when the beauty and words of music would reach deep down into my spirit and remind me there was a constant truth to be discovered. Those moments gave me brief insight into who God was and I grasped on to that feeling; warmth, energy, brightness, and peace filled me and reflected to me.

I came across that feeling again reading the Book of Mormon. It was a casual venture, trying to find secrets hidden within its pages of the contagious joy of a boy I had met. On the cover, its subtitle read, “Another Testament of Jesus Christ.”

The Book of Mormon tells the story of a family and then various groups of people who desire to follow Jesus Christ and in its culminating moment, Christ visits these people. In the glory of His resurrected body, He comes down to teach, administer, heal, and bless those who desired to know. Initially, this was the moment that spoke truth to me of the Book of Mormon. The chapters that describe this visit brought those same feelings of warmth, energy, brightness, and peace. In those chapters I started to not only know of Him, but to know Him.

In the years since I have become a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I have turned to the Book of Mormon daily. Each day I read from it seemed brighter, I had a better grasp on my personal circumstances. Hope and joy would infuse everything.

In January, along with a challenge to not shop, I also challenged myself to read the Book of Mormon in 30 days. Roughly, this adds up to 18 pages each day, of scripture, in a tiny font. I knew it was possible but that it would require creativity. So, depending on the day, I would read or listen. I would do a little in the morning, some while washing dishes or folding clothes, and then finish the evening with whatever else was left (sometimes the entire 18 pages). I wasn’t perfect, I didn’t finish in 30 days. It ended up closer to 35 but I didn’t let that deter me. My intention was to become more immersed in the story as a whole rather than picking out each symbolic verse.

As I read and listened something persisted at the forefront of my thoughts from the beginning. I thought about that subtitle again and again. For me, it had always referred to the moment Christ appears in glory. Here He is! I would think, This is another witness of His reality! These people saw Him! 

But throughout my challenge, I started to see the Savior in so many more moments. He wasn’t visible, showing up in spectacular light, blessing each little child individually with His very own hands. But He was there.

As I read about Nephi, I saw the goodness of Christ as He leads and guides those who are willing. As I read about King Benjamin’s people, I saw the joy of Christ as they accepted with gladness. The more I read and listened, the more I saw Him on each page. His goodness, His love, His mercy. It wasn’t just in the words of those speaking of Him, but in the very lives they lived. In the choices they made and in the desire of their hearts.

I saw Him on each page. His purpose and mission clear, “For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.” (Moses 1:39) His grace evident throughout. All along, this book has been helping me to know Him.

I cannot help but express during this Holy week my personal testimony.

I know He loves each and every one of us.

I know He mourns with us and shares joy with us.

I know He desires to help us, that His arms are outstretched always.

I know His Atonement is real and powerful and full of love.

I know He lives and that He offers that same promise to us.

To know Him has become the greatest source of light in my life.