I Love the Mountains: Miracles in the Making

Dear family and dear friends 23 October 2022

Yesterday, a good friend reminded me a wise man and prophet, invited us to watch for and expect miracles.

“Why not?” is a question that my mom introduced and propagated in our family since I was knee high to a grasshopper. We are also, realistically, taught not to expect a walk in the park without challenges. Our first challenge, since last month’s letter, happened in securing a bookcase from Val’s mom’s house.

Missionaries learn in the field that the companion ALWAYS extricates himself from the car to stand and watch his companion backing up. I had temporary missionary amnesia, relaxing in the passenger seat of Val’s father’s truck, as we backed up (quick—Mutton Hollow can have racers) right into our (used to be) sparkling new (to us) silver vehicle. We are grateful for insurance, and the invitation to learn from errors.

The beginning of October marks the anniversary of our first date, 30 years ago. Val drove four hours from Seattle to the Tri-Cities, to meet me, watch conference, and meet my family. The family visit was first. Val asked if I would like to go out to dinner first, or have him “come in.” “Come in,” he did, meeting a four-year-old precocious Kristen and a nearly 20-month Amber, who invited him to do puzzles and play.

This was surprising, as both daughters had some reticence among people they had not met. Val procured some tacos and pink lemonade later, and watched two little ones play with straws. After they enchanted this young man with their sweetness, soon it became time to pay attention to their mother!

Val later told me that when he met my parents, he had a feeling come over him that he had known them before. (They had not ever met, but 20 years later, I had a similar feeling in a little chapel next to a temple in Honduras, when I asked if I might have been there in glorious meeting, long ago, in “courts on high” (Hymn 195)

(Deja vu experiences in Cobán, Guatemala, hold forth promises of holiness to come, in special places.
The temple underway at this moment is located on the grounds of the chapel of our once Barrio II Tuesday evening piano lessons )

"Touched by an angel" feelings such as these may come and go. But memories can be welcome reminders of paths that lead us to adventure, beauty and growth. As we ponder the lily...

A few of these moments have been commemorated this month. My mom’s 64^th anniversary was honored with a gathering of all five of her children and a host of grandchildren.

(Thanks, Steven, for sharing your great full family photograph!)

Dinner in the park ended in an impromptu connecting afterward in Mom’s living room, filled with music and stories, conversation and connection.

My sister Carma was able to drive south with me, on her final day, and visit more family.

David’s final day filled itself with maybe more adventure than planned as some of us siblings ventured in Mom’s new white HRV to see autumn colors and enjoy each other’s company.

All was bliss and joy, until Pamela heard a “whoosh” next to her from the right rear.

“This is a test, only a test!” While our Logan brother, Steven replaced a gashed tire,

I listened to a sweet lady, Charline, who had just lost two children, about the age of ours, to cancer and other challenges. Her remaining child was special needs. Even in our extremities, I am learning to see meaning. The couple urged us forward, not back! Our GPS read 18 miles and two hours. (Thanks, Steven for capturing snippets of the glory below:)

Exactly enough splendid, stunning, scenic moments to secure a plane trip for David, eldest brother. IF the spare tire would hold out over the rocky trail to Bountiful. I cannot remember a time when I have been happier to view a temple steeple!

(And now, all things are become new with a tire replacement and top to bottom car wash.

Only one mark remaining to remind us to go forward with caution in rocky places.)

Another surprise came in a miracle of our daughter Kristen, who flew to visit her sister, Amber, only to learn that she needed to spend a night in a motel, due to an identity mix up. Thank you to those of you who joined our prayers to resolve this problem. It was this morning of this supplication that led Val and I again to that steepled Bountiful hill, where we commemorated our temple sealing 29 years ago.

Seasons!

We are so appreciating the season of enjoying our moms in the sunset of their lives.

A rich harvest.

Grateful we are, also to hear miracles with our Colorado Maria beginning a new job as an engineer! Val’s next interest is encouraging neighbors to vote. My job is to invite people to vote in person with a blue pen!

(Here is one of my favorite doorsteps)