"Hope Cometh in the Morning"

We have all recently been reminded of the sagacious wisdom of King Benjamin in the Book of Mormon: 

And moreover, I would desire that ye should consider on the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. For behold, they are blessed in all things, both temporal and spiritual; and if they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven, that thereby they may dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness. O remember, remember that these things are true; for the Lord God hath spoken it. (Mosiah 2:41).

I am headed to the new Orem Temple for an endowment session this afternoon. I find these days filled with a constant desire to be in the Lord's House, no matter which one. I love the constant reminders of His goodness. I am anxious to learn more each time I go. I will never get to the end of all there is to understand and believe. It is an endless pursuit in mortality.

There are so many sources to which we can look for inspiration. Grief has been my constant companion since last July, when we bade a temporary farewell to my beloved companion of a lifetime, Patsy. But there is a corollary that goes with grief - the more we loved the more intense our grief may be. Saddened as I have been for my loss, my heart lifts in perpetual gratitude for the richness Patsy has brought into my life. 

I came across a statement this morning from someone named Frank O'Connor, who said: "All I know from my own experience is that the more loss we feel the more grateful we should be for whatever it was we had to lose. It means we had something worth grieving for. The ones I'm sorry for are the ones that go through life not even knowing what grief is." 

I can hardly conceive of someone going through life without knowing grief. It seems to be the very stuff of our existence. 

But then I remembered this verse also:

For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. (Psalm 30:5).

That ultimate morning of the first resurrection is what I focus on now more than ever. The fulness of joy will be unimaginable if we live for it, of that I am certain. There is no doubt we will all experience weeping at times in our lives, and that's when the darkness seems deepest. When we "lose" our spouse, it may be the most wrenching and devastating tragedy we can imagine. But I intentionally placed quotes around the word lose in that sentence. Nothing is ever really lost to us, maybe just temporarily displaced for a season.  

My children are all grieving for the absence of that maternal influence in their lives. There isn't a day that passes without one of them sharing with all the others what new discovery they are making. I am heartened as I read and hear their experiences. They are determined to go forth on their journeys in hope and trust in the Lord. What have they got to lose? And how much joy to gain!

Yesterday, I waded into my Google Photos account, and discovered a memory treasure trove. For an hour I indulged myself, locked alone in my thoughts of her. I found every stage of our lives being relived in all those pictures. Those momentary journeys into the past always include a way back into the present with a knock at the door from a well-intentioned someone who lives in the present with me. I am enriched by both.

At the altitude in Utah's mountains where I live (7333 ft.), I have been enduring four straight days with snow in the air and on the ground. The temps have plummeted too, forestalling what was suggested might be an early Spring. This morning I can finally see a break in the clouds overhead, and streaks of blue sky occasionally. There is nothing like the hope of a new Spring that stirs my soul. It is God's promise of renewal to me. It is as if He whispers, "Don't worry, David. I still remember Spring, and I will be generous to you."