Grace

Yes, it's my favorite name... Grace Isabelle, yes, that's what I have always planned on naming my little girl, my little "Gracie Belle", but that's not what I'm talking about.

Heavenly Fathers Grace.

Grace is the help or strength given through the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ. Through the grace of God, everyone who has lived will be resurrected—our spirits will be reunited with our bodies, never again to be separated. Through His grace, the Lord also enables those who live His gospel to repent and be forgiven.

I went to today's (Saturday's) session of the Women of Faith Conference with my Grandmother, Aunt and Mom. It was good, there were a couple of ladies with some good thoughts and amazing voices. I just really appreciate what I have more today. I was taken back to 8, 9 years ago when I was missing something but I just didn't know what it was and, honestly, I really didn't comprehend I was missing something as desperately as I was. Getting to see that after I found what I was missing was more of an eye opener.

I have it all now, not materially, definitely not physically!, and maybe not emotionally, but I sure have it spiritually! I have all the missing pieces as one lady described it a few years ago. When I met Kurt, I was in love, I knew without a doubt he was my "it". I just didn't fully comprehend how full he would make my life. He was a Mormon... ooh.... scary! Really? I didn't really see anything wrong with that, my family did, but I didn't understand. I grew up with kids that were Mormon and they didn't have 6 fingers or 19 toes, didn't have tentacles that I could see, they seemed pretty normal, happy, they all hung out together, what I perceived as a "click" then, but they weren't snobby, they were my friends and seemed to genuinely like me, so, I had not problems with them. Kurt being "one of them" didn't bother me. He wasn't weird, he was friends with some of my friends. Nothing strange. Luckily, and I say that with all sincerity, our relationship progressed and we started getting into deep discussions. I had just graduated from high school a few moths before I met him and I was trying to find my place in the world. It was nice to get to talk to someone about my fears, wants, hopes, dreams. He got me. Learning more about each other brought us to religion, naturally. I didn't know anything about his and he didn't know much about mine. This was a really great discussion for us, we talked about it all the time. There was a lot to learn on both sides. We decided to make a trip to each others churches so we could see the others religion in practice. Now THAT was interesting, we were loud and roudy, and his was quiet and subdued. Big difference, but something was happening. I liked it. I'm not a big, flashy person, I've never liked the showy, loud and in your face things. I liked this quiet and to the point thing. It felt comfortable, the only thing I would have changed was playing the piano a little faster, say with the recommended tempo... (yes, some of you are laughing with me on that one!) I always had questions in my heart that were never answered from anyone, family, firends, pastors. Lots of deep questions that lingered and finally I just pushed them away, because everyone else seemed happy and fulfilled, so why wasn't I? I'm a difficult person, I just wrote that off as such. But along comes Kurt and his thoughts a beliefs, and answers. I was getting answers I had long stopped asking. He had valid answers to things I wasn't even sharing out loud. I was gaining insight that I never thought I'd have. My family hated it and fought it. I didn't understand why. I was starting to feel whole, on the inside and out. This led me to want to move away so I could have that peace and fulness I wanted so badly. I found answers to every question my heart ever had in those pesky Mormons! Who knew!? I joined the church and I have never looked back and NEVER regretted it. I have all the peices to my puzzle now and I'm never going to let those go.

Now if I could just start sharing those pieces with everyone else... that's a whole other issue and topic. I'm not a very eloquent speaker, my thoughts are clear but they come out jumbled and backwards and upside down. I'll leave that to the professionals! You can reach them here.

I'll just tell you what I know, yes, KNOW. I know that Heavenly Father loves me, he sent His Son to die so that I could come back to live with Him some day. He knew I couldn't make it on my own, so He provided a way for me, He loves my that much. I know that Joseph Smith was a true prophet of God and that we have a living prophet today, Thomas S. Monson. I didn't just hear the story and think, gee, that sounds good, I think I'll go with that one. It was a trial for me. I prayed and prayed and cried and prayed some more. My family was completely against me, the tried relentlessly to make me not believe how I felt. It was agony for me. I knew in my heart that it was all true, but how could I hurt my family that way? But, to me, it's life or death. Literally. Do I go back to my family and not listen to the truth in my heart or do I accept it, knowing that all will be well if I just believe? I chose to believe. I knew it was true and I accepted it, yes there was contention, yes there still is sometimes, but none of that will matter when I'm dead and answering to Christ as to why I did or didn't accept the gift he gave me. The Holy Spirit, that still small voice testified in my heart and soul that it was all true. That's it and that's what I chose.

You don't have to believe what I do, that's the beauty of choice, but if you ever want to know, just ask. But be ready to bear with me. Like I said, I'm not eloquent, if you only knew how long this post has taken me to make the words coherent!

Enough babbling, that was just what was on my heart today. :)