Saints

I am a member of a church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I believe it is the ancient church of Christ restored in the latter days. We call ourselves Saints, which we aren’t, but we are striving to be the best we can through Christ. My heart is often turned to the Saints who helped establish this church. When my life is hard I think of them.

I think of when they left their homes and traveled thousands of miles in the snow with hand carts and frost biten feet. I think of the first responders and the love and service they rendered to each other. I think of how it must have felt to finally make it to Zion. And then to discover their trials were not over. The time they had to build and rebuild the foundation of a temple and sacrifice all of their possessions and time. Or the time they had a mass population of crickets devouring their field of crops that was their lifeline for Winter. How sorely disappointed they must felt when that big body of water was disgusting salt water or that the weather was less than ideal. Their test wasn’t over after crossing the plains. They were tested and tried again. Over and over. They were constantly reminded that they needed to lean on the Lord. That they did not travel alone nor should they ever.

Our lives are very similar to theirs. Just when I think I’ve arrived and I can take a deep breathe and relax I’m asked to do something, something hard. But every time I’ve trusted Him and every time He has provided the way. (It’s like Nephi says, “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.”) And when He provides the way miracles can happen. And I have witnessed so many in my life.