Greg and I had the opportunity to attend the temple last night. We made a goal when we first got married that we would go to the temple at least once a month. We have been pretty good with that goal - except for the past year. I have only been a handful of times, and I have missed it terribly. We did Initiatories. Over the hour and half that we were there, I had the opportunity to look into the faces of about a dozen women. Maybe two of them were my mother's age, but most of them were quite a bit older. Each of them has lived so much of life. I was overcome with how strikingly beautiful a woman's face is as she ages. I found the lines and wrinkles so fascinating, and their eyes were absolutely radiant.
I thought a lot about these women that I had never met before, and will most likely never come in contact with again in this life. I figured that each of them have deep, strong testimonies of the gospel to give up their Saturday evenings to serve in the temple. As I looked into their eyes, I could see and feel their love for the Savior and this work. I figured that each one of them have faced challenges in their lives. Undoubtedly, many of them have suffered loss, and all of them have most definitely struggled through periods of frustration and trials. I figured that they are among Heavenly Father's most righteous daughters. And yet, they were all so different.
Some spoke quickly, others were positively animated while they spoke. There was one sister that just made me smile. I imagined how lovely it would have been to be a child of hers and have her tell bedtime stories. She was quite entertaining. One sister spoke incredibly slow - emphasizing each and every word. I imagined that this is probably how she is in all aspects of life; careful, exact, precise, and purposeful. One sister had the most gorgeous blue eyes. They were the color of the sky on a clear, summer day. Captivating. One sister spoke with a Brazilian accent. She moved her lips so quickly, and the accent was gorgeous. I could have listened to her all evening. One sister struggled through every one of my Chinese names. She was boisterous, and just smiled at her pronunciation. She tried her best, but did not seem flustered. I could imagine her plowing through everything in her life - with a smile and a laugh and a shrug of the shoulders when it didn't go perfectly. It is possible for each of us to live this life in our way, and worship in our way, and grow in our way.
As I sat there, I felt such a connection with these women. I felt such a connection with all women. I gained new insight to how the Gospel of Jesus Christ specifically blesses women. But mostly I felt so deeply how much our Heavenly Father loves his daughters. I know that my husband loves all of our children - deeply. But honestly, his daughters hold a very special place in his heart. I think most men would admit to this. There is such a unique bond between a father and his daughters. And I wondered if perhaps it isn't the same for our Heavenly Father. I knew that he loved these beautiful women that I met in the temple. They were his precious daughters, and so am I. It was one of those moments that can never be taken from me. A simple, yet profound moment where I felt so loved. A moment that seems almost too sacred to share, and yet I want to add my testimony of this sacred, eternal, unconditional love.
(Macy and I discovered this beautiful butterfly on our flowers this morning. She didn't stay long, and we didn't want to get too close. I just love Spring!)
To My Dad: My dad went above and beyond the call of duty this weekend. He and my mom took my five children so Greg and I could attend the temple. Normally, this wouldn't be such a sacrifice, but my sweet Paige has broken her leg. It is currently in a splint, and this child is miserable with a capital "M". She has cried for days!!! She has been awake and whining most of the hours of the night the past three nights. (Sidenote: For the record, I am not known for my patience at 4:08 in the morning.) I desperately needed a break, and my parents stepped up. Sure enough, she cried/whined for two hours straight when they got there. Finally, out of exhaustion and desperation, my mom surrendered to shoving candy in her mouth every time she opened it. While my mom was attending Paige, my dad was in charge of the twins. It is easy to be a good parent when everyone is getting along, people are in good moods, and things are going smoothly. It is easy to be a good dad on fun, exciting outings. But, a good dad - a really good dad - is there when it is tough. Thanks Dad, for being an amazing father. I love you. I am so blessed.
To My Husband: I love being the mother and observing this relationship that you have with our kids. I know you can't always see it, but you are the axis that their world's revolve around. You are the center of their universe. They adore you. A-Dore! You bring so much happiness into our home and into the lives of our kids. I feel so honored to share this life with you. Your dedication to me and to these kids is so inspiring. I know that you do a lot "behind the scenes." I know that you work so hard for us. I know that you carry a lot of stress and pressures on your shoulders. I know that you carry this burden alone to ease my burden. I am so happy that there is a day to celebrate your self-sacrifice and emphasize the importance of fathers. I love you. I am so blessed.
