{with patience & faith}

My dad is in the hospital, in Australia. It is times like these that I am reminded of how far away my family is, and I feel helpless. I just want to be there, to sit in his room with him, to help lift some of the burden my mom is carrying. Ask the questions of the doctors and nurses who are caring for him so that we can find out what the heck is going on. Despite running a battery of tests, they know little more than he has a staff infection - they don't know why he's so sick, or why he's in excruciating pain.

Sunday we fasted for my dad and for his doctors. It was testimony Sunday which means that we don't have regular speakers but anyone in the congregation who wants to share can speak. It is a time for people to bear testimony of those things they know to be true. I wanted to talk about what my family is going through, and how badly we want to be able to do something, anything to help, to change the outcome, to improve the odds. But the reality is we can't do anything. We are almost ten thousand miles away. It takes at least a day and a half and a lot of money to get there. It is completely out of my hands, and it would be even if I were there.

Directly, there is nothing I can do right now. But I can fast, and I can pray, and that brings some measure of comfort when everything seems helpless. It gives me something concrete to do, and I know that it works.

That's what I wanted to say when I bore my testimony. But as I stood at the microphone, I could not speak. I started to cry. I knew if I opened my mouth to say anything, I was going to wail and lose it completely. An uncomfortable minute went past as I tried to compose myself, but it didn't get any better. It got worse. I turned around and looked at Quinn, who was sitting behind me (he's in the Bishopric so that's where he sits during Sacrament Meeting), and he stood to put his arm around me. I whispered to him that I had to leave. And then I walked out the side door and out into the parking lot, where I did completely lose it.

For the most part, I don't like to be vulnerable. I feel shame when I show what I perceive to be weakness in front of other people. I like to think of myself as being articulate and well spoken and while I don't mind expressing emotion, I like to be restrained in the way that I do it. I was none of those things on Sunday. I was a mess and two hundred people witnessed it.

The upshot of the whole deal was that I was reminded of the amazing, kind, loving friends that I have in my church family. I've gotten some very sweet phone calls and emails expressing concern. People who don't even know my dad are praying for him and his doctors. Sunday night one of my absolute favourite people showed up on my doorstep with the most delicious plum torte and a big hug. People have offered to care for my children if I end up going to Australia. This is the gospel in action. I am so grateful to be in a church surrounded by awesome people who practice and live their faith and who can authentically show love, concern and care for others. My heart is full.

We went through a similar scare with my mom about seven years ago. She had a brain aneurysm and miraculously survived the surgery to repair the site, but suffered setbacks after the surgery with language and speech loss. I arrived the day after she got out of hospital. My parents aren't LDS, but they are so respectful of my beliefs and honour the place the Gospel has in my life. With my parents consent, I arranged for two young LDS missionaries to come to their home to give my mom a Priesthood blessing. Her recovery was nothing short of miraculous and my parents credit the blessing and all the prayers said on her behalf.

My dad asked me today if I could arrange for him to receive a blessing. I phoned the LDS Mission Office in Perth to explain the situation and make the request. By the time I had phoned my dad back less than half an hour later, the missionaries had already been in contact with him to arrange a time to visit him in hospital to give him a blessing. This is the gospel in action. Half way around the world, strangers have stepped up to offer service gratefully. I am overwhelmed and am so thankful, knowing that everything that can be done, is being done.

Elder Slade

I am a convert to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. When I was 18 years old, while staying with a high school friend and her family, I went to church for the first time. I was struggling in my life, and it was a confusing time for me. I didn't like myself very much or the direction I was heading. I was, to put it mildly, swinging wildly out of control. I had a plane ticket to return to Australia (where I was born and lived until I was 11) and I had a couple of weeks to kill before leaving. I had long admired my friend's family and wondered whether it was their faith that made them happy and loving. They certainly had taken me in with open arms and so I found myself at Church with my friend that first Sunday in her congregation of young, single adults.

I remember sitting in Sunday School, looking at a picture of the Saviour that was leaning up against the blackboard. It hit me that for the first time in a very long time, I felt peace. I felt safe. I knew that I wanted to feel like that all the time. And so I told my friend that I wanted to learn more. There were two sets of missionaries in the room - one set of young women (called Sister Missionaries), and one set of young men (Elders). Naturally my friend made a beeline for the Elders and asked them to come and teach me at her house.

Elder Slade and Elder Cooley taught me the first discussion that evening. Everything I heard resonated with me, sounded familiar somehow. They told me about Joseph Smith, how when he was a young man of fourteen and struggling with questions about his faith, went to a grove of trees near his home and prayed to know what to do. They taught me about Jesus Christ and our Heavenly Father. They gave me a Book of Mormon and asked me to read it. When they were finished, they asked me if I had any questions. I told them that I didn't, that I had liked everything that I heard, and that I wanted to be baptized. But I was leaving for Australia in a week and wanted to be baptized before I left.

Now I know how unusual it was to commit to baptism so quickly, but at the time it felt like the natural next step. I didn't see any point in delaying what I knew was the right thing to do. So every day that week, Elders Slade and Cooley came to Rebecca's and taught me. We watched church movies, we had many discussions, and they answered my questions. I prayed for the first time. I felt God's love for me and that feeling of peace and comfort I had first felt in Sunday School continued to envelop me. I no longer felt alone.

Saturday morning, July 17, 1993, Elder Chad Slade baptized me. Elder Cooley confirmed me a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and gave me the gift of the Holy Ghost. Every good thing I have in my life I can trace back to the decision I made to be baptized. I have never not gone to church since. It has been a constant, stabilizing, uplifting influence in my life. I met my husband at church, we were married in the Temple and we have four amazing, awesome children. My life is full and rich in ways that I could have only imagined.

Chad and his family are visiting BC and yesterday came to our house for dinner. It's been nineteen years since my baptism and fourteen years since we last saw each other. I've been caught up in memories this morning, thinking about that week in 1993 when everything changed. And how life has only continued to get better. And for that I am so grateful.

Liam's Baptism

Liam is our youngest, and when he turned four we went to BK to celebrate. As we sat there eating in that corner booth, I watched my family. I thought to myself, I don't have babies anymore. I don't have toddlers. I have children. And I began to think about how fast it had all gone by and how hard it was, and how I really didn't enjoy it as much as I should have. Those days were gone and I was never going to get them back.

Liam at 11 months

And then I burst into tears. Seriously, I was sobbing and I could. not. stop. I cried my eyes out right there in the middle of Burger King.
(I wish I was one of those people who look pretty when they cry. Unfortunately, I have an ugly cry face.)

Liam at 8 1/2

Well, we recently had another milestone with Liam's baptism. In the LDS Church, eight is considered the age of accountability, the point at which a child can understand the decision he is making. Liam actually turned eight in October of last year, but we wanted to wait until my parents were here at Christmas. But then Quinn's parents were sick and unable to come, and it kept getting put off because there never seemed to be a weekend that worked. Finally we were able to line everything up and last weekend, Liam was finally baptized.

He was thrilled. It was the perfect day. So many people came and we were touched by the love and support that was shown him.

He was baptized and confirmed by his Dad. Grandma and Grandpa Martin both spoke. His friends Alex and Mikey gave the opening and closing prayers. The Bishop welcomed him to the ward.

Liam's little buddy Finn and his mom gave him the most beautiful gift. To commemorate his baptism, they gave him a tree to plant so that he can watch it grow to be big and strong. The card said that they know his faith will stay strong like this mighty Redwood.


Liam and his tree are the same height now, but over the next ten years it is supposed to grow to between 70 and 100 feet tall! We will have to pick somewhere special to put it.

We are so proud of Liam. He was so ready to do this. He knows that he has taken a very important step in his life and that he has made sacred covenants with his Heavenly Father. He was so excited to receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. He loved how he felt when he was baptized and said he wished that he could feel like that every day.

TOFW - Friday Night Recap

I could seriously be like the Deadheads who followed the Grateful Dead around the US in the 70s and 80s - except that instead of going to see Jerry Garcia, I would be going to TOFW to see Hilary Weeks and S. Michael Wilcox.

Shopping and fun with the girls aside, the main reason I go is to immerse myself in the Spirit that I know will be there. I come back from TOFW feeling like I could take on anything. I am uplifted, inspired and most of all, I am reminded that I am not alone on this journey. My Heavenly Father and my Saviour want so much for me to succeed, and there are 2500 other women in the room with similar struggles and experiences – knowing that strengthens me.

The theme for this year was “Seek the Good.” John Bytheway opened on Friday night with a really great talk on being careful about what we surround ourselves with. He called it the ‘Parable of the Marinade’ – and he said that we are all marinating in something. Regardless of our original intention, you will eventually become with you surround yourself with.

Brad Wilcox spoke next on knowing the names of Christ. My favourites were: ‘I am’ - He can declare I am, I am real, I exist, I am the way, the truth, the life; ‘The King of Kings’ says a lot about Christ but it also says a great deal about us too; He is the ‘Finisher of Our Faith’ – He is not finished with us yet! When you don’t feel like a Queen, remember that he is not done with you yet. I really loved his talk.

I had seen the Mormon Message about Chris Williams’ story and was so touched. He spoke on dealing with adversity and avoiding the path of self pity. The Saviour can teach us how He would respond and we can find hope in any situation. Confront misery with mercy and kindness, and just let it go. He finished with an a cappella rendition of my absolute favourite hymn, “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing.”

If you haven’t seen Chris Williams' story, watch it here: