My time is just about gone. Tomorrow, I return to the anonymity of the commenter – responding to posts that others have written, instead of wondering whether anyone will respond to mine.
She was 12 years old, and her death was totally unexpected.
When you put joy first, what happens to your mind?
One of the reasons I loved my mission so much was that both of my Mission Presidents emphasized what I already believed about the purpose of a mission â€“ both what it means to be a missionary and how that should direct missionary effort.
(***NOTE***: I realized Saturday morning the folly of posting a new thread the night before General Conference begins, so I took it down. Chalk it up to being a greenie. However, I feel pretty good that Elder Edgely must have read my post Friday night (“endure together”) and changed his talk accordingly. *Grin*) It is a basic medical truism that you cannot be cured of an illness unless you go to a doctor â€“ or someone else who can heal you. In order to be healed, you need to expose the problem that is troubling you to someone who can recognize it and offer assistance that will alleviate your suffering and cure the issue. As my father used to say, “Warts won’t go away unless they are treated.”
“Bert” came into our lives his senior year in high school, after a torturous journey through adolescence and a broken home. He now attends a small college in northern Ohio – and he had the following experience yesterday. He gave his permission for me to share it with all of you. (I made slight editing changes to make it acceptable for this forum and to hide the exact location.)
Mary had a little lamb; it was a little sheep, but then it joined the Mormon Church and died of lack of sleep.