Give Me This Mountain

WARNING: This post is real long. I hate to admit but I think I'm becoming rather sentimental in my old age. :)

Hello one and all! No, I am not dead. Yes, I am still dating Paul (he is so wonderful)! And yes, I do still read the blog on occasion. (I was going to post pictures of Paul and I at Halloween - I was a princess and he was a frog. We experimented with the kissing test and guess what . . . it worked!) :)

I can't say thank you enough for all of your prayers, fasts, emails, calls, texts, and everything else you all have done. What an amazing miracle that we have good friends to draw on. Latest update: My mom is recovering from her first round of chemo rather quickly - faster than most actually. She has had side effects and has suffered more than anyone should have to, but has been greatly blessed in that it could be so much worse. She is amazing. I know it's a bad day when she lets me make dinner all by myself - she's too much of a mom to let her children cook for her. :) The ward fast was a neat experience - the Bishop announced in Sacrament meeting that after the 3 hour block they would be holding a special prayer meeting to end the fast. Special doesn't begin to describe it. We sang "How Gentle God's Commands" which was quite appropriate - if you have a moment read the words, they are very fitting. The bishop was quite specific in his prayer and the spirit of unity in that room was just incredible. With all the people around the world fasting for her we figure there was probably a 48 hour period of constant fasting. She felt it (as did we). And we continue to feel it.

My sister April is 33 weeks pregnant with "Miracle Max." After a lot of heartache, many days and night spent in the hospital, and a round of invitro, she discovered she was pregnant with twins the day of Lindsey's funeral. A few weeks later she lost one of the babies, but the other one has been doing well (fetus name is Chunk, real name is Max). She developed placent privera (or whatever it's called - I still don't know much about that stuff) and because of it has had to take it easy (she wasn't able to come to England with us which was quite devastating). She's made it this far and has had her c-section scheduled for December 31st. Last night we received another one of those "middle of the night" phone calls - she had started bleeding (very dangerous with her condition). She was jetted off to the hospital and is still there. She is having small contractions which they are trying to stop so Max can stay in there for hopefully a few more weeks. She is holding up ok, but of course hates that she has to spend at least several days in the hospital. My sister Laura announced she is due next August. Mel will be here from Japan on Thursday. On top of a few other intense trials, we are being very blessed.

When Lindsey died my mom found a talk called "We Went On Our Way Rejoicing." It kind of became our theme for a while. Well, now are new theme is "Give Me This Mountain." My sister Laura explained it well on her blog, so I've copied it here:

Life has lots of mountains to climb. Sometimes they're more like hills, sometimes it's like climbing Everest. Sometimes you get a rest in between, sometimes you only make it back down to the saddle before you have to start climbing again. There are times when I climb, times when I sit and rest, and times when I turn around because the mountain's too big, only to try again the next day.At times I say to God, "No more mountains!" or better yet, "Take this mountain away. I'll climb any mountain but this one." Most days I don't feel like I have the faith that Caleb did. At 85 years of age when faced with fighting giants to inherit the promised land he didn't turn around, he didn't even sit down and rest, he said, "Give me this mountain" (Joshua 14:12). I don't think my faith is strong enough for that, especially today.Our family's been climbing the mountain of Linz's death. Pretty hard mountain, definitely an Everest if you ask me. I think we've been doing better. Maybe we finally got down to the saddle, but there's no time to rest. There's another mountain ahead and it's bigger than ever. This mountain is my mom's terminal cancer. How does that happen? How can we be expected to climb this mountain when we're still so tired from the last? And then I know. We're not. We're never expected to climb life's mountains alone. There's no way we can do it alone. We climb with the Savior. We climb with Linz and everyone else we love who isn't with us anymore. Sometimes we walk next to them, and sometimes they have to get behind and push. But together we can do it.How do I live without my mom? She's not just my mom, she's my best friend. I tell her everything. She listens and gives good advice. She laughs and plays. Someday, in my wildest dreams, I'll be a mom like her. So right now I don't know how I'll live without her, but I know I will because I have to. Because at the top of every mountain waits my Savior, my mom, and my sister cheering me on. I have to keep climbing so I can make it back to them. So I will. In faith I will climb on.This scripture is my testimony and I think the testimony of my family. This is what we believe."Believe in God; believe that he is, and that he created all things, both in heaven and in earth; believe that he has all wisdom, and all power, both in heaven and in earth; believe that man doth not comprehend all the things which the Lord can comprehend." Mosiah 4:9So because we believe, we will climb this mountain. It might not be pretty, but we will make it to the top. Because that's what our mom taught us to do.

Amen, and Amen. I am so grateful for the power of the Savior and His atonement. His grace truly is sufficient for ALL men (and women). I love you all and thank you again for everything!