A Temple Testimony

I LOVE to see the Temple.

The Twin Falls Temple in Idaho was the site of my “wrong turn” at the very start of the softening of my heart. Where I stopped and “felt” the building radiate out into the street.

April 20, 2013:  I went on my first proxy Baptism trip to the Seattle Temple just shy of a month after my own baptism. It was that day when I started my father’s work and my forgiveness of him.

October 19, 2013:  I spent my first birthday after my baptism, performing proxy baptisms for my family in the Salt Lake City Temple. Afterwards, I enjoyed a wonderful lunch with the first and only Priesthood Holder who ever asked me out on a date. They served spaghetti at the Salt Lake Temple cafeteria. That's something you don't forget. Fortunately, since I was not yet endowed I was in my street clothes, not a white Temple dress. That was the last date Hyrum and I had, but we remain friends and he has since developed a friendship with my husband.

May 13, 2014:  I received my Endowments at the Seattle Temple, with 3 friends from 2 different Wards. Later that year, I went through Mt. Timpanogos Temple with one of my Sister Missionaries for the proxy Endowments of both my grandmothers.

Since May of 2014, I have befriended many Temple workers in many Wards and Branches. I have even roomed with one while I was needing a place to stay in close proximity to my grandchildren for a holiday season. She helped bolster my Testimony on a daily, sometimes hourly basis. Marian helped me understand Personal Revelation. A Returned Missionary, she helped me trust God. That is a gift I don’t know how to ever repay.

When I visit a Ward, I find myself looking around. The Temple Workers seem to “glow” with light. I went up to an older, beautiful lady one day in the Lacey, Washington Stake Center that I was visiting. I felt I HAD to know; “Did she work at the Temple?” Yes, in fact, she confirmed that she did. The “Glow” had been apparent across the room.

My Patriarchal Blessing explicitly states that I will bless my family on both sides of the veil with the work I perform in the Temple. In the past two years, I have been blessed to catch rides with Temple Workers on many occasions, giving me the opportunity to perform an entire shift’s worth of Proxy Ordinances while I was there.

Snowflake, Arizona Temple

I look at the Temple Ordinance workers with gratitude and amazement. Even though sometimes rather elderly, they seem almost spry. Their minds are clear and their memories amazingly retentive.

This spring, just short of my Temple Recommend needing renewed; I felt an overwhelming compulsion. My best friend (and Visiting Teacher), Anne, had been urging me to not only go to the Temple to perform Proxy Ordinances while she and my other friends worked; she wanted me to volunteer to work there too!

Anne works in the Laundry of the Snowflake Temple, she suggested that I volunteer to work there also. I hesitated, because doing my own laundry is difficult enough for me with a broken back and other chronic pain. But that didn’t deter her. She was convinced I should be working in the Temple with her and several of our friends in our Branch.

In early March, as I was speaking to our Branch President about another matter, the compulsion felt overwhelming. I was attempting to open his office door to leave. The Holy Spirit whispered, “Turn around and ask him…” I knew what the Spirit was speaking to me about. The compulsion was incredibly strong; it was if I could not turn the doorknob I was attempting to reach. “Turn around and ask him,” the Spirit continued to whisper, but I hesitated. I didn’t want to appear too eager, feeling there must be some requirement I didn’t meet. There is no way I felt qualified to work at the Temple. But the Spirit would not cease, so I turned around.

After asking my Branch President if there was some way I could help in the Temple, some place I could volunteer, and if my services would be adequate, I felt relieved of the compulsion for a few days. That Friday when I visited the Snowflake Temple during Anne’s shift, it returned in the Celestial Room.

“Go talk to the Matron,” the whispering Holy Spirit urged. “Why would I want to do that?!” In shock I answered in my thoughts.

“Tell her you want to work here, tell her your experience.” The Spirit would not let up.

I entered the dressing room to ready (and steady) myself. It was crowded, more crowded than I had ever seen. I sought refuge in the lavatory, but even that room seemed overwhelmingly crowded. I prayed for courage in the stall.

Sitting in the Matron’s office, I felt silly to have been so nervous. The Assistant Matron was on duty that night and was a genteel lady with a radiant countenance. She glowed. As I explained the Spirit’s (and Anne’s) urgings, and my experience as a retired computer programmer; she shared with me that there was a spot opening up in the Temple Office. A elderly couple that had been with the office since the opening of the Snowflake Temple in 2002 was retiring. Their shifts would not be easy to fill and they would be missed.

I felt a reassurance from my Heavenly Father. There was a service I felt confident I could perform. To be able to share my skills on computers and office work with the Snowflake Temple and help perform the work that needs to be done, felt like an incredible blessing. The Matron seemed happy to be placing my name on the lists to be approved by my Branch and Stake Presidents.

Over the next couple of weeks, during my Fridays at the Temple, I got to know the Temple Presidency through a couple of very informal interviews. By the time my volunteering in the office was approved by the Stake President, my Temple Recommend was up for renewal for the first time. I had to go in for my interviews again

Then it happened, I received a call asking me to come in for an interview at the beginning of my regular Friday visit. That is a day I will NEVER forget. As my friend Anne escorted me into the Temple President’s office, Elder Bradley Foster of the Seventy appeared to be looking for something on the President’s desk. He engaged me in a brief conversation before the Temple President entered. I wish I remembered that he was the one who gave the talk, “It’s Never Too Early and It’s Never Too Late,” in the October 2015 General Conference that spoke to my heart, but I was too overwhelmed by the situation. When the Temple President entered, I was surprised when I wasn’t to be interviewed, but quickly set apart as an Office Worker, and sent off to meet the rest of the office staff, Recorder and the Assistant Recorder.

I made quick friends with the other new worker and briefly met the retiring couple. My life in the weeks since has been blessed as, among other things, I've been able to learn my tasks at the Temple Office very quickly and life at home seems easier too. I look forward to my Friday Evenings in the Temple every week.

My Testimony of Temple work is solid. I have a powerful Testimony of the Holy Spirit and I strongly agree with President Monson’s directive to “NEVER postpone a prompting.”

I leave this Testimony with you in the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Climbing Back up the Ladder

Climbing back into the attic isn't just about overcoming the fall...

For me, it was about remembering three little words my husband taught me. 
It was also about being more conscientious about listening to the Holy Spirit.

The fateful day when I fell, now fifteen months ago, the wrong spirit was in my home. 

My husband and I were arguing about essentially nothing... but the spirit of contention was present. That also meant that the Holy Spirit was not.

It was the Holy Spirit that I felt each time I was quietly reminded to grasp tighter to the ladder. 

The Holy Spirit wasn't there that day... and I had my hands full of stuff and a heart full of anger as I fell backwards 10 feet into the air... landing on a hard floor breaking my back.

The Holy Spirit arrived with the Missionaries that day. The young Priesthood holders who my husband called to bless me, when I screamed for them in pain. 

They were his second call that day, the first being to 911. The Elders performed the blessing with me on a stretcher on my front lawn.

For the next four days, in a haze of intractable pain, I learned to walk again. 

I was in a steel brace for 6 weeks, then released for 6 more weeks of physical therapy. By the time September came, I was preparing to journey to Arizona with my husband to explore the land we dreamed of purchasing.

With Heavenly Father's assistance, I healed. 

When I returned to the house where the accident had occurred, it had been almost a year since the fall. I even surprised myself at the amount of PTSD that the ladder contained within it's every rung. But that very fact made me more determined to climb it.

The attic was my get-away. It was on that hard wooden floor of that attic where I prayed to God to know how to become closer to Jesus Christ. It was in that attic where I received the answer I wasn't ready for. It was in that attic where I was told by my Heavenly Father to be Baptized and become a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

It is in that attic, where I feel closer to God. Perhaps, because I spent months up there, alone. Perhaps because the wooden floor has absorbed more of my tears in prayer than any other place in the world. Perhaps. 

As I climbed the ladder.... a poem started to form. I have shared it here:

Three points of Contact

Three points of contact
the words ring in my head

three points of contact
next time could find you dead

Three points of contact
my shoulders loaded with bags

Three points of contact
Forgot to drop my shoes
this could be bad

Three points of contact
Do curled toes count as one?

Three points of contact
four to go, I'm almost done.

Three points of contact
On the way up the stairs

Three points of contact
into my attic lair

Three points of contact
Why do I want to climb?

Three points of contact
to get writing out of my MIND

Three points of conact
almost to the top

Three points of contact
it would be crazy now
to stop!

Three points of contact
my pulse racing in my ears

Three points of contact
amplifying false fears

Three poinst of contact
breath shallow, too fast

Three points of contact,
my feet on the attic floor
I made it at last.

Three points of contact,
the phrase my companion
taught me

Three points of contact
make them each time
you climb
and be free.

Three Points of Contact

(My daily struggle with PTSD from my 10 foot fall off an attic ladder that broke my back, continues...)

I made it up the stairs, but trying to get back to writing when sitting is no longer acceptable to my body was another journey. I had wanted to write for months, but every time I tried to begin, I got frustrated with my pain level and stopped. 
Finally, it happened. I was able to not only put scriptures onto photos I had taken, but I was able to once again articulate in a written form.

So, here it begins. Again. 
Thanks for your patience. 

I hope everyone's week is full of the Love and Lighte of Jesus Christ. 

True Charity

We are taking a trip to the Bishop's storehouse for the first time ever today.
Most people not members aren't familiar with our church and it's charity, most church members never have the need to ask.
Frankly, like most of us, I don't like to ask for help for myself. However, living with two disabled men, I try to put their needs before my own.

This month, as my husband and I were looking at our budget and our need to travel to Washington at the first of the month. As we paid our tithing, we were given a witness that our situation would likely become financially difficult this month.

So we made sure to pay our tithing in full, and prayed that we would have the humility to ask for help when it was required.  This week it became a requirement.
When we talked to our roommate about seeking such assistance, it brought to his mind visions of rotten, outdated food from local food banks. Food that was not really edible, but that would sustain the most desperate.
Then I took out a copy of a food order sheet. He was amazed. The selection and amount of food offered, all non-expired and grown and packaged and blessed for the use of those who are in need.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints not only provides for it's members when they are in need, but provides the ways and means for it's members to become more self-sufficient.
On it's website, http://providentliving.org, the church has made resources for the education of it's members in regards to self-sufficiency in the areas of employment, finances & food storage available. They teach us to be good stewards of this world and it's resources.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints has a programs to support their members, and their communities throughout the world.
One of the wonderful benefits of belonging to a church who truly cares for it's members, is that ALL our needs are cared for.
Anyone who is in need, need only to ask their local Bishop.
Not a church member, but need food: just ask.
I am happy and proud to be a member of a church that practices what it preaches. Charity never faiths. But sometimes we fail to ask. Fail to humble ourselves. But when we do find that humility, we are rewarded. Sometimes we are rewarded to be able to share those blessings with others.
To learn more about the Humanitarian efforts of our church, please visit: http://www.ldsphilanthropies.org/humanitarian-services/

Converts Are Like Butterflies - A Book of Poetry in Blog Form

I have been working on editing the poetry from the first year of my conversion for a while now.
Some poems I have shared here, some I have shared on other blogs.

Most I have not shared at all.

As I am finishing the editing of the poems, readying them for the book, I have created a space just for them.
The book will be called, "Converts are Like Butterflies: Poetry of Testimony", and the blog is the same.
Converts Are Like Butterflies is the blog where you can watch as I prepare the poetry I have written in the past year for publication.

Please feel free to comment with input.

The dates of the posts will be the original dates that the poems were written, so make sure to check in the past, as I will be "back-filling" them as I get them edited.

Thank you for taking time to read this, may your day be blessed with the Love and Lighte of Christ!

Faith of a Bishop

A congregation
Files in a bit late --
The Sabbath
after Christmas
Has the benches a bit sparse.

Aaronic & Bishopric
in a quiet, yet slightly
troubled stirring.
An Aaronic
Priesthood holder
quietly motions to the
Bishop at the podium,
"PLEASE delay,"
Desperation and concern
color his young face.
A worried chorister
agrees in doubtful
confidence with the Bishop
as he gives her quiet direction.
I watch my Bishop --
A man full of faith --
Say a silent prayer
Then ponder
for a quiet moment,
as the congregation
sat in vapid anticipation;
Then cue
to begin
the Sacrament hymn.
Those of us
paying attention --
Those of us
in a front row --
Took notice
of the faith
of our Bishop

To begin
the Sacrament hymn
Before the
bread
had arrived.

As we began
the second verse
of the slow
and reverent words --
a door opened --
bread passed through.
Sighs of relief
were heard;
more than a few.
The faith
of our Bishop
burned strong
in my heart,
as I heard
my own
message from God
about a new start:

Have faith -
say a prayer -
Then softly and gently
push doubt & doubters aside --
this one isn't their ride.

Blessings of Being a Member of the Relief Society

I was reading over a lesson that was shared with me from a Sister on Sunday (from a class I did not attend, due to me attending Gospel Essentials - I am a newbie!) .

I am so thankful to have the opportunity to belong to such an incredible organization as is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints' Relief Society. I was inspired to share the quote that she had shared in the lesson.

In an effort to respond to the inquiries from outside the Church, and to remind ourselves of the grand blessings of womanhood, we as a Relief Society general presidency present the following: We are beloved spirit daughters of God, and our lives have meaning, purpose, and direction. As a worldwide sisterhood, we are united in our devotion to Jesus Christ, our Savior and Exemplar. We are women of faith, virtue, vision, and charity who:Increase our testimonies of Jesus Christ through prayer and scripture study. Seek spiritual strength by following the promptings of the Holy Ghost. Dedicate ourselves to strengthening marriages, families, and homes. Find nobility in motherhood and joy in womanhood. Delight in service and good works. Love life and learning. Stand for truth and righteousness. Sustain the priesthood as the authority of God on earth. Rejoice in the blessings of the temple, understand our divine destiny, and strive for exaltation. http://lds.org/general-conference/1999/10/rejoice-daughters-of-zion.p9?lang=eng

Maggie and the Missionaries

(subtitle)  "Those Tender Kind Souls Who Would Have LIKED Preached His Gospel to Me and Those I Finally Listened To"

I have rarely admitted to anyone the long road it has taken me to get to a point where I invited missionaries into a house in which I resided.

In fact, I don't believe I ever did; until the day I personally ASKED them to come to my current location.

Before being introduced to the idea of The Church, (then it took me another 3 years to soften my heart towards the Book of Mormon, and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints), I rarely even opened my door when tracking pairs came knocking.
When I did, I was MUCH less than polite, let alone hospitable.

If anyone had told me then, that I would now delight in the company of Missionaries, being overjoyed when I had the opportunity to invite them to join me for a meal; I would have called them a liar. Not a chance!!

I never listened long enough to hear their messages, until it was the right time for me. AND the right Missionaries.

During the past three years, I have often stayed in the homes of both friends who were inactive and some who were active members of The Church. On many occasions they have invited Missionaries to visit while I was present.
Even in the month before my baptism, a couple of weeks before I downloaded the Book of Mormon and began reading it; when the Elders appeared at the door, I ran to my room and hid.


I had no idea why. But God KNOWS His children. He knew me better than I knew myself.

After 46 years of being treated in a certain way by the male gender, and having had NO exposure to righteous priesthood holders; I didn't have a clue as to what to feel around them. In my mind men were all the same. I was so wrong.

Sisters Johnson
& Lloyd

There is no such thing as coincidence, happenstance or kismet. Call it "fate" or by any other name you wish; but it is ALL part of God's Divine Plan. Everything.

When I experienced my personal revelation on 6 March 2013, and requested that Missionaries be sent to my home to teach me; I didn't even KNOW Sister Missionaries EXISTED!!!!


Before I met Sisters Lloyd & Johnson, I hadn't even formulated the idea that Sisters COULD be Missionaries. I had never seen any, it had never even crossed my mind. "Strangely enough" (#HolyHighFive!), my area had very recently been assigned their first Sister Missionary pair!

When the Sisters placed my first "hard copy" of The Book of Mormon into my hands; I felt my spiritual eyes open.
In their presence I was finally able to relax and feel the Comforter, The Holy Spirit, and KNOW what that feeling WAS!!!  I wanted Sisters Johnson and Lloyd to tarry forever.

The Sisters guided my fellowship and friendships with prayer and listening to promptings of the Holy Spirit. That day they guided my tour through the Ward Meeting House. I felt at home for the first time in my life in the company of Sisters.

When they asked me about baptism (it felt like forever, but it was probably only days after they met me); I was over-anxious. They mentioned the 30th of March, and I reluctantly agreed. In retrospect, they probably thought I was being hesitant, but I wanted it to happen sooner. I just knew that wasn't my baptismal date.

Sure enough, a few days later, they asked me if I wanted to get baptized a week sooner; on the 23rd. I was elated, and agreed. God had heard my unstated prayer.

When my lessons came to the daily preparation for my baptism, I never wanted them to end. Much the same way I felt about my new member lessons, in the home of a wonderful Ward Missionary family; I felt the Spirit so strongly I never wanted the lessons to be over.

It is wonderful, now, to be in the presence of returned, current and future Missionaries. I now delight in the Light of the Holy Spirit that surrounds them.

Some fun after
a service project

Thanks to a many pairs of Sisters & Elders who have been VERY instructive and loving, I am learning about Missionaries. Sisters Lloyd & Johnson have moved on to other areas, and I had the blessing to meet Sisters Frandsen and Langi as well as many others from neighboring areas. They are all wonderful young men and women.  I love each and every one of the Missionaries.

I feel the excitement of the Second Coming when I am around them.

With the Missionaries, I feel the JOY of knowledge; The GLORY of the Testimony of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and our Heavenly Father, God!!!

I anxiously await a time, in the future, when I might be graced with the opportunity to serve a mission.

A Different Kind of Happy Father's Day: Temple Work as Therapy

I am a survivor. I didn't realize the extent of the abuse that I had survived, until repressed memories surfaced three years ago. Even before then, I knew that "Father's Day" never conjured up the happiness in me that it seemed it ought to have.

I have experienced years of psychotherapy for the abuse I knew I sustained at both my father's and my stepfather's hands. But the anger and disappointment remained.

Four years ago, Father's Day 2009 marked the violent end to my marriage of 20 years, although we wouldn't actually separate for nine more months, nor was the divorce final until we had been married 22 years. But the marriage was over on Father's Day.
Yet another memory for that seemingly ominous day.

Ronald George Slighte 1967

This year is so different. Having the gift of being more in touch with my Heavenly Father, it was He that led me to a method of forgiveness for my temporal father, Ronald George Slighte.

The Temple.


When I took the information for my father and for his father, both of whoms deaths had been trageties towards our entire family simply by their manner, to the Temple; I was rewarded in abundance.


The freedom that is forgiveness. Something not many people actually achieve, as many have told me that they couldn't imagine forgiving similar abuse. I didn't think I had the capability either. Truth be told, I wouldn't have if I had embraced the restored Gospel.

When I met my best friend in 2010, in him I saw a father. He was a real "Dad" to his kids. Even while fighting a battle with cancer, the true integrity of his motto "family is FOREVER!" shocked and entranced me. It was through him that I started learning more about God.

My path over the last three years has been a varied and confused one for much of the time. But when I was at my weakest, I put everything into God's hands, and I was rewarded abundantly. But when I first had the impression to take my father's name to the temple, I wasn't sure if I was ready.

This year, April 20th was a very special day. I had interviewed with my Bishop, and was deemed worthy to enter the Temple on a provisional recommend to perform baptisms of the dead for my ancestors.

George Ronald Slighte, Margaret Florence Clara Slighte (nee Foley),
Margaret Thornhill Slighte (nee Walsh) & Thomas Slighte
(left to right)

I was baptized in the name of several of my female ancestors on my father's side, including my paternal grandma, Margaret Florence Clara Foley Slighte McGhee King (a mouthful, I know!).
I then requested to be present when the proxy for my father and his father was baptized and confirmed in their names.


The young man who was baptized in my male ancestor's names had no idea the gift he gave me. He looked embarrassed by my tearful reaction upon hearing the names of my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, being confirmed. The Temple workers were empathetic; passing me a tissue with eyes full of understanding.

That day I was gifted with an intense relief, but it wasn't the end of it. I had a mind to write about it when it happened, but felt that there would be more to write about. I had no idea how much my feelings, and then my life, would change.

By being able to release the anger and pain I felt towards my father, and then the disappointment in him regarding his death; and give him up to God to be taught what he needs to know on the other side, I feel free. I no longer carry the burden on my back of his abuse or his suicide after not having seen or talked to him for over 17 years.

In the past few months since taking their names to the temple, I have been rewarded with the absence of the memories that had come to me after having been repressed most of my life. God has granted me the gift of the ability to remember the happy times. The times that God was there in our lives.

My father is now in God's hands.

My Heavenly Father will take care of it all. To both of them, I say "Happy Father's Day. I love you."

But it is my Heavenly Father, to whom I say, "Thank you, for letting me be a "Daddy's Girl" again!"
His heavenly Love and Lighte to all on Father's Day.

But WHY the "Mormon Church"

I have heard people say that they understand my faith in God, but not my decision to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. They don't understand why I chose to be a Mormon.
A Latter-Day Saint.

First, I don't believe it was a choice. Even an ex thought I had already been a confirmed member of The Church six months before I had even read the Book of Mormon!

I have always been on this path. God chose me. It just took me 46 years to open my eyes.

I joke about having been "stalked by Christ", or more appropriately, by His Church. In my journeys across the country, I found myself stopping and pondering God in front of temples I had no clue even existed before happening upon them.

Books about the Mormon Trail fascinated me. A people who displayed their faith. And what faith it was, and is.

There are a few facts that I want to share with others, about some of my beliefs that finally found their home:

• The fact that Jesus Christ and God are separate, immortal beings and the Holy Ghost is a separate spirit entity.  
• That God did not cease communicating with us through prophets in the time of the bible. 
• We have a living prophet that receives revelation for the church in these times; his name is Thomas S. Monson.
• We have the right and the obligation to ask for personal revelation in prayer and to listen to the small still voice that is the Holy Spirit. 

I finished reading the Book of Mormon for the first time (just a read-through, I plan to go back and study it diligently after I finish the rest of the Standard Works) on April 30. I believe it to be another Testament of Jesus Christ. I prayed, and was impressed with the knowledge that it is.


The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is the only church that has ever felt like home. My children and my mother know how long I have searched for the truth. Many of my closest friends have seen my search as well.

I am finally at home.

Faith in the Small, Still, yet Firm, Voice

When the world around me, is saying one thing, yet that small voice inside says another, it sometimes seems difficult to choose the right.  
Even in small things.

I have prayed to my Heavenly Father to illuminate the my path a bit brighter; I acknowledge that it has taken me quite a long time to find the Light that is Christ and my church home, and I feel the need to ask for a bit more enlightenment in regards to the choices He knows are right for me. That doesn't stop me from hearing the world.

So, when the voices of even the most pure at heart conflict with that small, still voice that is that of the Holy Spirit; it is time for me to turn off the world. "Airplane mode" for me, not just my phone. Taking the time to be quiet and ponder. Contemplate. Listen to and for, the Holy Spirit.

I recently watched several General Conference talks about just that: the need to take time to ponder.
Quietly. I find joy and God's touch in the quiet.
My favorite places to ponder, are in the world that He created. The least touched by man's hand, the better. For me, whether they be the Olympics, the Cascades or the Rockies; the mountains of the world are where I feel God's energy to the greatest extent.

My next favorite place to do it, is while driving. Something I am very thankful to have started to do once again. I missed it. I didn't realize how much.
Having seen so much of the country in the past couple of years; for me it is so easy to see God's hand in it all. It is unimaginable for me that some can not see it. I feel sad for them.

The Holy Spirit is there to guide us in EVERYTHING we do.

Holding the hand of our Heavenly Big Brother, Christ; we CAN stand up to any pressure. If we have FAITH. Faith that His hand is and will ALWAYS be there for us to hold.

A friend of mine recently shared with me that for most people, faith is something they strive for, but don't really feel.
My reaction was immediate and profound: Complete and utter sadness. Grief.

But WHY?!?! Don't they see?!

Don't they know that EVERYTHING good is God?! Don't they realize that the atonement is for them?!

I have been guilty of using the euphamism "the Universe" in the past, when I meant God. No matter what words I used, I could see a greater power.

I have been given the blessing of seeing the world through a new set of eyes. I am able to not only look back and see how God has watched over me all my life; but to also see His hand in every moment I am currently living.
When I catch a hold, when I have lost grip; when I put something in a strange place, just where I would need it next; the Holy Spirit is there.
God's own guide.
A gift to me from Him.
How great is His love?!

My journeys these last few years have truly shown me evidence of the Living God. Every time that I "let go" and completely invested my time and my energy "in the moment"; God showed me why I was there.

Nothing is an accident. There are no coincidences. It is ALL part of the plan. Yes, we have our free agency to choose; but that doesn't negate the fact THAT was foretold as well. As were EVERY choice that you and I were and are destine to make. It is this belief that has led me to the faith that I have.

I believe that Jesus Christ is the Only Begotten Son, that God, the Father sent Him here to show us the way and the truth and the light of life.
I believe that the Holy Spirit is the gift I have received through God to guide me in my each and every decision that I make.
I have faith that everything will happen exactly when and where it is meant to happen.

We ALL have our paths. Not one is the same.  That is why God has given us each the posibility of having our own personal guide through the darkness we can find on this side of the veil. Our own personal lighthouse.

I think of the Holy Spirit as my own personal lighthouse that shows me the right where ever I am. When I am not obeying God's commandments, a dark fog surrounds that light, making it difficult to make out. When I follow the commandments and make and keep new covenants with God, the light becomes brighter and brighter. It illuminates my path.

That was my prayer. I prayed to my Heavenly Father that the path that I should take would henceforth be illuminated a bit brighter, since it has been difficult in the past for me to see, or choose the right that I did see. He has answered my prayers in abundance!


I have experienced many trials in my life; I know that my trials won't be over until my time on this side is done. But I have faith that the Holy Spirit is there to guide me.
All I have to do, is what I am told. Keep God's commandments. Pray for guidance when I lack the knowledge. Keep reading The Gospels of Christ daily. Remember where the true light comes from.

Have FAITH; He is there to guide and direct us.

Minding Our Words and Dress

Tears filled my eyes as I pondered the condition of my remaining mismatched compression stockings, combined with my current temporal situation. I wondered if the lady member in the Family History Center had any idea the effect that she had upon me.

I am so incredibly thankful for the divinely-inspired friendships of my own ward family. None of the women in my ward have EVER caused me to feel the way I felt that day.

I was once again accompanying my friend on her volunteering day at the FHC to use that opportunity to research my own family; when as an answer to a prayer I had just started, brought me to assist this Lady on the computer. While we awaited the computer's piece of the task at hand (populating her family tree after I entered her information), she shared with me her views on the current state of the dress of the women of the church.

Most of her words went in one ear and out the other; since there have been a few occasions even in my own ward, where my eyebrows have been raised.
When she started in on bare legs, she got my attention. Even with the longest of skirts, she stated, there is NO reason they cant go to the effort of at least putting on knee high nylon stockings to come to church.

My skirt was long, and there were members in the FHC that day even wearing jeans; but my bare legs felt conspicuous, and I tucked them further under the chair. It hurt my heart that she thought I didn't care how I presented myself.

In the past two months since my baptism, I have not shared my temporal situation with many people other than very close friends and members assisting me with the practicalities of becoming one of the "covenant people". I have had generous Sisters hand down skirts when I owned none. I have been on the receiving end of much generosity within my ward.

On Saturday night as I laid out my church clothes, as I pondered what she had shared with me the state of my own remaining support hose had me in tears. Then I came to a realization.

If my faith was less than it is, and I had not been gifted with divine friendships within my WONDERFUL ward family; I could EASILY been intimidated into a point that I didn't feel my dressing abilities were worthy of being included in Sacrament Service.

Twice now I have attended the Seattle Temple to perform baptisms for the dead of my family. With her words ringing in my ears, I humbly remembered that I had worn nylons neither time. My clumsiness due to my disabilities causes the practicalities of putting them on in a stall, nearly impossible. Having a broken thumb makes dressing difficult enough without adding the complication of attempting not to snag a nylon.

I am VERY cognizant of presenting myself in the appropriate manner. To this end, I have hand-printed a piece of paper above the mirror I use. When I have my own home, I will put a mirror by the door with this on a wooden sign above it saying:

"If you were to meet Jesus Christ on the street today, would you feel happy with how you look?

NO? Turn around and change! :)"

God is the ONLY one I need to please. Never once have I been told in answer to a prayer that I need to put nylons on for Him to love me!

I do know that "we are all human". I know The Church and the restored gospel are true. Personally, I will make sure from now on that I mind how I approach others, mindful that we are ALL God's children, lest ANYONE be caused to feel by MY words, how I felt after HER words.

Author's note: I was compelled to read this in my Relief Society meeting shortly after I had posted it. To my surprise, after the meeting was concluded, when I walked out of the meeting room, I noticed the Lady who had made those comments, awaiting her ward's service which is held in the same building as mine, at a different time.
We have exchanged many pleasant conversations about family history, and I doubt she even remembers the comments about clothing. The important lesson for me, was that I did, and it causes me to be mindful about what I say to others, daily.
I wasn't wearing nylons that day either. :)

A Testimony of Tithing

Personally, I didn't think I NEEDED a "testimony of tithing". After all, EVERY time I have ever given away my last dime, I have been rewarded with abundance.

It happened that I had waited until I was in an interview with my Bishop and he got to the tithing question. I excitedly grabbed the envelope that I had almost forgotten was in my bible case, handed it over to him, and said, "yes, I am a full tithe payer!"

I was excited to pay my first tithe. I was a member of the church!

Less than 40 hours later, I received a text on my phone informing me of a deposit into my account. Not expecting my Social Security until a day later, I was confused.

It was a refund that I expected. But it was about a month early AND it was more than I expected!

I quickly calculated out ten percent of my windfall, and put it into the envelope for the next month.

Going Forth in Virtue with Shame

I FEEL different.

I feel ashamed when I think of my past behavior.
It's not how I want to remember myself. How do I reconcile this? All of these feelings?
I know God forgave me when I was baptized; but SERIOUSLY, the VERY thought of doing any of those things, ever, APPALLS me!

I believe that it is a mercy, that the Holy Spirit has filled me so completely that I feel PHYSICALLY REPULSED at the ideas of certain things that I know I did not that long ago. It's an awful feeling, remembering certain memories.  I feel ashamed. Full of shame. It's something I am having a hard time putting into words.

It was LITERALLY a complete change of heart. It happened quickly. VERY quickly. The moment God told me that I must seek the church and baptism or I would loose that small quiet voice, forever. Only then did I realize how little I had REALLY bothered to listen to it for most of my adult life. I took it for granted that it would always be there, when I needed it.
The thought of loosing it horrified me completely.

At that time, I began changing my behaviors, gradually.

I have since changed: 

• My manner of dress (many items of clothing were removed from my wardrobe completely   - not even layering would work). I RESPECT my body as a child of God. I am a sister to Christ. My big brother wouldn't want me showing my body in disrespectful ways.
• My way of speaking (no more vulgarities)... and it is difficult at times, I will admit. I have had that habit since I was a small child. I am using it as an opportunity to strengthen my vocabulary as well as evaluate the reason behind using expletives in the first place.
• I strive to be a calmer and gentler person.
• The music I listen to: I no longer listen to a lot of heavy metal. Quieter music with a positive message is my preference right now. Especially no drama-filled music (this is VERY difficult for a girl who likes her country!).
• The way I spend my time: I am spending my time between doing my best to help others each day as well as learn more about the scriptures every. I read or listen to scripture at least an hour every day. I have been walking every day. Taking time to play with Athena and get outside. Even on the bad days.

These are changes that have made my spirit SHINE! I have felt BETTER and BETTER inside and out with each progressive change.

Heavenly Father filled me with the desire to only do what I had put my intention behind: Start on a virtuous path. Leave sin behind and walk forward into the LIGHTE!!!

I thank God for His hand in my life. He reached out and grabbed me by the nap of the neck and said "WAKE UP!!!"  LITERALLY. That is how it feels.



A changed heart indeed. A FULL heart. Full to bursting.
I love my Lord.

Heavenly Father, Thank you for all Your heavenly blessings. In Jesus' name I say this. amen.