In my little corner of the chapel

All month long at church, each assigned speaker has shared their favorite scripture and I have loved and looked forward to it each week. There has been new insight and reminders a plenty. Today was no different. I feel pretty grateful these days because one of my callings at church allows me to sit on the stand so I can conduct the music. I get to soak in sacrament meeting by myself. Not that I don't love sitting with my family, but when you go 13 years with constant interruption during the most important meeting of the week, that quiet hour on my own to worship has selfishly become very precious to me. I have loved being able to listen with more intent, while glancing down at my littles just a few feet away. 

Today as the speakers shared their thoughts and favorite verses, I couldn't help but let my mind drift off to several verses that are up there on the top of my list, too. I was soaking in every minute of the meeting, and grateful for beautiful reminders of faith. As the last speaker shared a story, I closed my eyes and found myself carried away to a beautiful scene. 

He was sharing an experience he had one morning during a snowstorm when he was in a rush to get to work, but traffic wasn't going anywhere. There had been an accident and everyone slowed down. In his rear view mirror he saw a car start driving up on the side emergency lane, trying to get through traffic. His first thought was "Why does this guy think he's in any bigger of a hurry than the rest of us?" and it really bothered him that the driver wanted to get through. His angst was softened when he saw the car finally stop at the site of the accident and the driver got out. He scanned the area, almost frantically. When his eyes met those of his young daughter, you could see the absolute relief wash over both of them and they ran to embrace. That father comforted his frightened daughter as she collapsed in his arms. The speaker related it to his favorite verse about pride and judging people or something or other, but for me I was still there. I was still in that scene. I was still in that Father's embrace. 

I was with my Father. My Heavenly Father's embrace. 

This year I have gone through a sort of crucible. A silent and painfully private one, that I have had to carry for the most part on my own. With the aid of my Savior, who will "never, no never, no never forsake", I have been able to tuck 2017 away and come out of it for the most part, whole. Recently the pain of it all reared its ugly head again, and when I heard that story today, I imagined what it would be like to be held like that by my father. I have never known, nor will I ever know what that feels like on this earth, but I can more than imagine it on a heavenly scale because today it felt so tangible and real to me; it was as if I was there experiencing it myself. I can imagine He's looking (out) for us. I can imagine He sees us, even when we don't always see Him. I can imagine when we are not distracted by the lights and the sirens, and we look up, we can find Him. I can imagine running and landing softly in His embrace. I can imagine the strength of His arms and the way they feel wrapped around our tiny, frightened frame. I can imagine how safe it feels to be held by our Father, who will (and has) make everything better again. I can imagine all of this because I felt so certain of it today. It was such a vivid and visceral experience, up there in my little corner of the chapel, where I conduct the music.