I have a painting that my husband gave to me. I love it very much. It is a lighthouse standing tall in the midst of the storm. The waves surrounding it are crashing against but yet the lighthouse stands firm and strong. A light shines from the top to show travelers the way to safety. If you look into the skies you can see Christ’s hands coming out as if to calm the seas and give aid.
I always loved that through the midst of trials and our own storms we can rest assured that Christ is there helping us endure our hardships.
Now as I look at the painting, I realize I AM that lighthouse.
An image is burned into my mind, the origin of it isn’t clear. Was it a dream, an illusion or a thought? I have no clue.
I am lying in my darkened room, my bedroom door is open and in the hallway is a light but just enough to make out who was standing there. It is my father.
I look at him and my thoughts were he is come to take me home but I tell him I can’t come yet, there is still something I must do. A goal I must complete.
My mind cuts to another scene. My father is walking with me and as we get closer to our destination he says, “Look mama, Debra’s home.”
There is little left that makes me smile but this wonderful scenario gladdens my heart. Is it a scene yet to be? Is it something made up in my mind? I don’t have an answer but it doesn’t matter, it serves as a comfort to me.
I can remember as a young girl coming home from school and being greeted with the scent of freshly baked bread and cinnamon rolls. Oh how I never got tired of it.
The first thing I did when I entered my home was call for mama. She would answer, “Yes, dear. I am here.” I always knew she was home but just the little bit of reassurance was all I needed. To me this was my world, my security.
My mother was a hard worker, she got up really early to get my father off to work, prepare breakfast for her children, get her children up and off to school. She spent her days cleaning the house, preparing meals, sewing clothes, crocheting, quilting, canning fruits and vegetables. Her days were full and I imagine it made her life complete.
I had always had nightmares from a young age and would wake up terrified and run to my mothers’ room to be held and comforted. I was also prone to fall asleep on my arm only to be woken up by having my arm cramped up and me once again running to my mom and she would tirelessly rub my arm till the feeling came back. She never uttered a complaint.
The times I was so sick, she always did what she could to ease my discomfort and sometimes it was enough to just have her lay by me while I slept. I remember one time I was being rocked by her and I was looking up into her face and my thought was how beautiful she was.
She didn’t ask for much except to be loved and appreciated, but as ingrateful as kids can be I was one of the worse. Even through the turmoil of our oil and water relationship I always loved the memories of the things she did to make our house a home. I love you mama.
Mosiah 2: 28 I say unto you that I have caused that ye should assemble yourselves together that I might rid my garments of your blood, at this period of time when I am about to go down to my grave, that I might go down in peace, and my immortal spirit may join the choirs above in singing the praises of a just God.
In reading my scriptures today, this jumped out at me. One of my most grievous things I have had to repent of is my lack of setting a proper example to my children. I squandered so much of my life in living selfishly and not worrying about the future.
Now in this past year, I have hustled to try to make amends but sometimes I question is it too late? I have to remind myself it is NOT too late. I may not be here to witness the transformation but it WILL come.
I have spent this past year assembling my writings of things that have a deeper meaning, prepared material belongings to benefit my children in their spiritual journey to help them find their way to the covenant path.
I can do no more than this while I am here in the flesh. The things that will lead them home can only be achieved by the Spirit. Into the spirit realm I can reach them and for this I am so grateful to my Heavely Father. I will stand with my earthly parents and many others as we speak truth to their hearts, minds and spirits. Thereby helping them to discern and yearn for things of more importance than what their mortal bodies and senses knows.
For all those who have lost their way or who have loved ones who have strayed. I testify to you now that it is NOT the end and all your good works are not forgotten. It is painful to see where so many are now and our vision is obscured by the social mores we sees rampant. But to not realize or believe there is no hope is like saying God doesn’t have the power and wisdom to see us through. Our only job is seeing that we keep on pushing through to the day when we will ALL be together as a family in the Celestial Kingdom. To anyone who reads this just know I love you deeply and completely.
I'm glad I learned to express my thoughts clearly and everyone loves to read them. Sometimes it takes a lot of thinking power to think about the surroundings. Someone who likes it, someone who enjoys it, appreciates that he is writing very well. Reading and commenting on the post I wrote would give me a lot of bullshit and I would get new ideas to write new ones.
I'm really glad I got your response.