Always with a promise

09/09/2012
 

     So, I have to set the stage here. I just finished feeding my brand new, soft and fuzzy, warm, pink, sweet smelling bundle of joy and have replaced him in the hospital's bassinet. The lights are all off but heaven is shining through the window and makes me feel warm, and the golden grass on the hillside waves as if beckoning me to come enjoy the fresh autumn sun. I can't help but feel pensive today and for so many poignant reasons, this tender email of Susan's being just one of the triggers.  Eleven years ago today, I was moved along with the rest of the world in a way I will never forget. My response to the tragedy of 9/11 was that my one year old son and his 6 older siblings needed a mother at home more than the couple of hundred dollars for which my time away from them was exchanged.
 
   If I had been particularly clever, I might have realized the exact same conclusion on Mother's Day of the same year, and given our family back a few more precious days together. As it was, the email I received that fateful Monday after Mother's Day 2001, was heeded for what it was, the announcement that my best friend Michelle Diane McCown had passed away along with her unborn 6th child, leaving her husband alone with their 5 other young and brilliant children.   The email was not heeded for what it could have been: an urgent message that this life is short, it is precious, and the only thing that matters is how much charity and compassion we can share with one another to make our brief stay here as beautiful and pleasant as possible, and also primarily that our families are everything and they deserve the attention that being our highest priority should bring.

      So here I sit on this day that is pivotally memorable for me in regards to my family for so many reasons. I look over at my brand new baby through these eyes that are filled with love for him, yet struggle to stay open, thanks to the conveniences of modern medicine for which I am grateful that it does do a little something to ease the discomfort of the miraculous journey (I've either completed or just started, or am continuong on…haha:) one of those three… ) And I am touched by this story that Susan has shared, and I wonder what I would say if I had been in this gentleman's shoes.

     Maybe it is the closeness of the veil during childbirth that gives me this feeling of urgency to share my feelings despite my exhaustion, discomfort or the silly, tiny keys I have to type on, here on my phone… but whatever it is that motivates me, one thing I know for sure, if ever I were put in a position where the moment came and my last thoughts here on this earth were being recorded for time and all eternity, I would want those thoughts focused and standing as a testimony of my Savior and His Church, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and the love that He wants us to share with one another, through compassion and charity and kindness. I would want each of my children to know for themselves, and not just because of my love for the Book of Mormon that it is true. Everything we can do from missionary work, to seminary, Scouts, mutual and Family Home Evening builds our own stronger testimonies, as well as strengthens our relationships with one another. And our relationships with each other are the web that supports us through eternity, and the temple needs to be the center of all our efforts.

    Ok, so knowing this probably isn't the last thing I will ever say to my family, I'm sure I can relax and keep planning an even more poignant and pointed speech. But to be honest, I'm sure I still wouldn't change a word. The thoughts I've shared are at the heart of everything important in life.  I'd give my big toe if Sarah could attend release time seminary and still participate in choir. If there were something I could do to ensure Jeremy and Nathan had perfect circumstances for their recovery, and Joshua and Nolan unquestionably had the means to pursue their dreams of being missionaries, I would hope for that. I don't know what I could say to Brett, Ostin, Miles, Dallas and Dean to more fully express my never ending love for them as well, but I would hope they already feel my love and know I would give my life for them too if there were a chance it would bring them any closer to Christ.

      Life is precious. I know. I am so grateful for all the beautiful ways the Lord has to remind us of that. And Susan, your emails are a delightfully constant reminder of how precious all of life is, thank you!

I love you!
~ Diane :)

---------- Forwarded message ----------

By Emily Freeman

I knew of a family who had an unforgettable experience.  For bad and for good.  One day this family was driving home together from an outing.  Each family member was doing their own thing as they rode.  The radio was on, the younger ones jabbering, mom and dad discussing, some kids poking, some kids laughing.

One of their sons, a boy about to turn eight, was reading.

His book of choice—The Book of Mormon.

You see, several weeks before, the father had challenged his son to read The Book of Mormon before he was baptized and the boy took the challenge to heart.

As the family rode along, the little boy interrupted the chaos by asking out loud, “Dad?  What is s-t-e-a-d-f-a-s-t-n-e-s-s?”  The father, who didn’t quite catch it the first time stopped his conversation, hushed the other kids, turned down the radio and said, “What was that son?”

“What is s-t-e-a-d-f-a-s-t-n-e-s-s?” he repeated.

With the car totally quiet, and unusually attentive, the dad thought for a minute, and then answered his curious child.  “That word is steadfastness,” he said.  Then in his own way, the father taught his family what it meant to be steadfast.  He taught them about enduring.  He taught them about courage and discipleship.  He taught them loving and serving and giving with all their heart and might and mind and strength.  He told them that as members of their family, they would always be steadfast in their testimony of Christ.  It was the way they would show their love and devotion to Him.  Always.

Within a few brief moments an accident occurred on the road.  A loose tire came flying from oncoming traffic and hit the driver side door of the traveling van.  It was unexpected and unpreventable,

but it left the family without their father.

It was a tragedy in every sense of the word.  Tears still flow ten years later. 

For some, this horrible afternoon was evidence that there is no God.

Nephi prophesied centuries ago that the Book of Mormon itself would come forth in a time when people would claim such things.

A time when “they deny the power of God, the Holy One of Israel; and they say unto the people… behold there is no God today… Behold…if they shall say there is a miracle wrought by the hand of the Lord, believe it not; for this day he is not a God of miracles; he hath done his work.” (2 Nephi 28:5).

It would come in a time when the devil would rob people’s faith through temptation and trial and leave them hopeless, afraid, and broken.

It would come in a time when sadness would fill the hearts of the children of men because of unbelief.

Yes, some people might be tempted to claim God was not caring after an afternoon like that.

For this family, it was evidence of just the opposite.

The way they saw it, God, in His infinite wisdom and goodness, had orchestrated a tender moment when a departing father could offer his last words of counsel and encouragement to a family he would continue to watch over and guide very, very closely from the other side of the veil.  One more chance to bear sweet testimony of the loving God he had grown to adore and serve.

From the pulpit at the funeral and since that day this family, through choked emotion and beaming hope testify of the reality of a living God and of his mercy and His grace.

Always with a promise that they will remain steadfast for the rest of their days.