Friday night I held a girl in my arms as her body shook with violent sobs. This girl has seen the worst of the world. Her life has been harder than I could ever imagine, but still she is fighting. Still she has hope. And although it is frail, and sometimes falters--it never dies.
I feel so blessed to continually be able to experience the best of the world. To have so many things in my life which build my hope and make living wonderful.
Tuesday I got to go on a sister date with Nychea where we had the best sandwiches in town at Economy Drug coupled with my favorite drink of all time--chocolate coke from the old fashioned fountain. We shared pistachio ice cream, secrets, memories... And we laughed. A lot.
Thursday I got to go to Hot Creek with my family and other cute families that are such good friends. I got to swim into the "black hole" that turns a dinky natural hot spring pond into something amazing. The way it looks from above, the swirling black and blue shadows, the shapes you find in the rocks as you hold your breath and swim down trying to go as far as you can before your breath runs out and your ears hurt so bad you can't take it, and still you can't see the bottom. All of God's wonderful creations around me for me to enjoy. Bliss.
Saturday morning I woke up to the smell of desert rain outside of my window. I got to brush my little sister's hair and give her a kiss on her sweet face before she hurried out the door with my brother and grandparents. I got to drive through the falling raindrops as they came down lightly from above, and see the fog lift as the sun raised. I got to play an early-morning game of beach volleyball and feel the sand between my toes. I got to laugh with my friends. I got to drive across rural Nevada on my way to work and experience the wonder of the wide-open spaces around me all day.
And Sunday, well Sunday, I got to go to church. And I got to take the sacrament for the first time in a long time. And I got to feel Christ's loving arms wrap around me and comfort me as I reflected on my journey to get to that point. I got to hear The Spirit whisper into my heart that I was on the right track. I got to listen to my little brother play "I Know That My Redeemer Lives." And as the words silently resounded in my mind, I got to feel the squeeze of my little sister's hand as tears of gratitude and joy fell off my cheeks.
Sunday night I got to go on an outing for work to a cave. It wasn’t one of those fancy-pants caves with lights and handrails. No, it was rough, and rugged, and dangerous. And I loved it. We took seven girls with us and as the cave went on and on and onnnnn, we got more and more muddy. Pretty soon we were covered from head to toe (literally since 4 of the girls lost their shoes and their socks in a mud filled trench inside). The cave stole shoes, a pair of glasses, and all of our dignity. There wasn’t one of us who didn’t fall flat on our face at some point. And I cut my leg on a rock. Yep. Did I say there was mud? Because there was MUD.
