I love being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I joined back in 1964 after a long struggle with faith. I had loved the Savior ever since I could remember, but the church of my youth deserted me as it moved into the intellect movement of the 60's. Without spiritual guidance, I fell away. The Lord distinguished between the words of my mouth and the longing of my heart. He knew that I wanted to believe and so he sent a young woman who told me the story of the Restored Gospel. She bore her testimony of Jesus Christ and promised me that I could know for myself and have my own testimony.

Now forty-six years later I can only thank her from the bottom of my heart for introducing me to the church. Indeed I do have my own testimony. I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet, called to restore Christ's church to the earth. We have a prophet today who leads and guides us. I am so grateful for Latter-day scriptures that bear testimony of Jesus Christ. The Book of Mormon is the Word of God. It stands as another witness of the Savior and it's truths have touched my life in very personal ways.

I hope that my poetry reflects the growth of my testimony and my love for Jesus Christ.

Talking Through the Veil

Once when my oldest daughter was about four years old, we had a family home evening where different rooms in the house were different places in the plan of salvation.  As we moved from room to room we talked about Heavenly Father's plan to bring us here to earth and the purpose of our time here.  Then at the end we went to the room representing the celestial kingdom.  We walked into the room ready to discuss what it will be like when we at last return home.  This little girl burst into tears.  "Whatever is the matter?" we asked.  "I thought Heavenly Father would be here."  
  
Well, of course, He wasn't.  I testify that the wonderful news is that when we pray, He IS here.  He is listening and answering and letting us know of His love and concern for us..  Those who have had such prayer experiences know. 

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