Be A Light

10.23.17 Choose The Right. While I was reading Jeffrey R. Holland's October 2017 General Conference address Sunday night, I felt the words "Be a Light" enter my mind. I had just walked "Light The Night" with some of my family the night before. After I read the talk, I thought of how being a light to others is choosing the right. We don't always realize that others are looking to us for direction, maybe because we are looking for the light that others provide. I realized that being a light is thinking of others, which is the essence of being kind. Thinking of others isn’t ignoring ourselves at the expense of others. We can focus on others while being mindful of ourselves. It has been said that humility isn’t thinking less of ourselves but thinking less about ourselves. 

11.9.17 Be More Open. As I rode the bus this morning I thought of what it is to be a light.  And to my surprise, I found myself thinking about being more open and not being embarrassed about our weaknesses. Often we let the need to be perfect hide our weaknesses. Pride can cover or hide our true self and then our light doesn’t shine as brightly as it could. Being transparent about our struggles can be inspiring to other who are also struggling. We all have our Gethsemane to walk through in our lives. Our sufferings can teach us to be more compassionate and understanding toward others; to be more like Christ, who loved us unconditionally. During one of her toughest trials, a friend discovered that she had been an inspiration when a person sent her a note thanking her for the positive attitude.

11.19.17 “How are you?” Sometimes it is the simple acts that do the most good. Today one of the speakers in Sacrament Meeting talked of the hymn “Have I Done Any Good?” He spoke of the little acts of kindness that we do each day. Like asking how someone is doing, greeting a person with a warm welcome, opening the door, smiling when passing in the hallway and etc. One of the best acts of kindness I received was when someone didn’t offer advice; she just listened.

11.25.17 Walk With Others. Life is not a race to the swiftest; it is a journey where we walk with each other to each of our finish lines. It doesn’t matter who gets there first. One thing I’ve noticed about “Light The Night” is that is a walk, not a race. No one gets a reward or medal for being first, second or third. Various teams are walking together and there is no “official” start or finish line to cross. Everyone who is registered for the event carries a lantern, a symbol to bring a light to the darkness of cancer. Walking with another isn’t walking ahead or behind, but together beside each other towards the finish line. Although at times it may seem that we walk alone, we really aren't. I have found support as I passed through my trials and it has been comforting to know that others cared.

12.03.17 Who Needs Me Today? (Bonnie Oscarson)  It is easy when we are struggling to ask what others can do for us. It is harder to ask what we can do for others. But it can be done. If my mom can do it, anyone can. In her final days, my mom was not only bed ridden, but she couldn’t speak either. She could still smile at the nurses and somehow managed to thank them for the service they gave her.  Our burdens can be lighter when we serve others. It doesn’t have to be big; it can be a random act of kindness, like opening the door for a person who hands are full or like my mom - smiling at others. So instead of thinking what others can do for you; ask yourself what you can do for others. So let's be a light in our communities, let's bear one another's burdens. Let us love others as Christ loves us.

Day of the Dead Post 4

I have a nephew who reminds me of my grandma. My grandma died six months after my dad passed away, so my nephew has never met her. Except for maybe heaven. My nephew has a kind soul just like my grandma did.

My grandma would make  caramel popcorn balls for her grandchildren each Christmas. One year she told my mom that she wouldn’t make the popcorn balls because the price of sugar had gone up. But my grandma had a change of heart and we were surprised with a box of caramel popcorn balls. Maybe not as much as the years before. Grandma just couldn’t deprive her grandchildren of a treat they grown to love. 

A few years or more after World War II ended, my aunt introduced a young Japanese-American to her parents. My grandma welcomed my soon-to-be uncle into the family. Her kindness had touched generations since. 

When my mom had to have surgery one November, my grandparents came up from Colorado to tend us. My grandma made Thanksgiving dinner for seven starving children and my dad while my mom was in the hospital or recuperating at home. 

That is just a few examples of the kind soul my grandma possessed in her life. Even her finals months I knew she cared; she was there to comfort my mom when my dad passed away suddenly on a February day. 

Dad's Birthday

It’s my dad’s 100^th birthday. Yes, you read that right, my dad made his big debut on July 29, 1917 in the San Luis Valley of southern Colorado. He has been gone for almost forty years. What I remember the most is the love that my dad had for his family. We were his #1 priority in his 62½ years.

My dad showed his love by his kindness. My younger brother shared one example of when I was posting memories together of my parents. While my brothers were being potty trained, my dad taught them to put the seat down after they were done. And the seat was usually down when I used the bathroom. My dad was just teaching my brothers respect for women. I struggled with math and I remember that my dad would sit me and help me with my homework. I appreciate the time my dad spent with me and for the unconditional love he gave to me and my siblings.

I still feel my dad’s comforting love that he has for me and the rest of his family (extended as well as immediate.) When I had a scan years ago, I felt my dad’s presence.  He has comforted me from time to time through the years. The latest being the day after Father's Day when I had another procedure. This past February, I got reminders to be kind and look for kindness; because my dad knew that was what I needed at the time. 
My dad’s legacy lives on.

Lessons From Heaven

My mom has been gone for almost five years, but I still feel her influence. She still worries about me and she definitely still loves me. I’m pretty sure that along with my dad, she is watching over me as much as she can. And she is still teaching me the lessons I need to learn.

I felt my mom’s concern a lot two years ago when I began seeing the doctors a bit more than I should. I remember right after my first surgical procedure as I was coming out of anesthesia, I saw in mind a younger mom; she had the same worried look on her face when I was brought into the recovery room at Holy Cross after my ear operation when I was 12. And my mom still worries. I’m convinced that Mom didn’t like me waiting at a cold dark bus stop in the morning. A member of my ward who happens to work at the University of Utah noticed me at the bus stop and at a work meeting for our division. My mom is someone who cares and worries about her children and I am glad that my neighbor listened to the promptings of the Holy Ghost.

One lesson my mom has taught me in the last four years is about forgiveness. Mike has been delusional for some time and still thinks that Mom lives in Washington state. One Labor Day weekend, Jay and I were in Idaho visiting our brother. Mike supposedly spent the whole weekend writing a letter to our mom that we would deliver to her. Our brother was reluctant to let us return to our home and demanded that we stay until he finished the letter (which he hadn’t started).  On our way back to Utah, we stopped at the cemetery for one last visit with Mom. As I knelt by her grave, the thought came to me that my mom had forgiven Mike. Thanks to the promptings of the Holy Ghost I was able to forgive my brother for his weaknesses.   

Probably one of more tender lessons that my mom taught about forgiving was when I had my endoscopy ultrasound in December 2015. My mom had threaten me with ulcers when I was in junior high or high school  because she had them and so did her mom. Being a teenager, I probably gave her the stink eye. After the procedure was done, the doctor stopped in to explain what had happen while I being scoped. The nodule in my stomach was so small that he decided not to remove it. I could sense my mom breathing a sigh of relief. I felt as she had forgiven herself for threatening me.  And I found myself forgiving her for being a bossy mom. Once more without realizing it, I had listened to the promptings of the Holy Ghost.

Maybe the lesson I’ve learned the most from my mom is recognizing the influence of the Holy Ghost in my life. It also the lesson that taken me the longest to recognize. I don’t think I’ve ever asked to feel her presence when I needed it like I do with my dad. It was the Holy Ghost prompting me that my mom was at my side as I boarded the plane one September day. I was at the airport waiting my flight to arrive at the gate when I learned of my mom’s passing. I asked for my dad, but I couldn’t feel his presence. I got a bit ticked off at him because I had felt abandoned. It wasn’t until I had calmed down that I sensed my mom waiting in line with me.
I am grateful that for the lessons that my mom has taught me since her passing. And I am grateful for the gift of the Holy Ghost. As Jesus taught in the Book of John, the Holy Ghost is indeed the comforter.

Retelling of the Other Wiseman

Last year, Jay and I had Christmas Eve dinner at a neighbor's. After dinner, they had a program like my family did on Christmas Eve. Their youngest son shared "The Night Before Christmas" like my brother, John would. Except John read the book while their son had it memorized. When Grandma read a story I was reminded of my mom reading "The Other Wiseman". So from memory I will tell the story. 

As we all know, there were many wisemen from the East, who anxiously seeking the signs of Christ's birth. There was another wiseman, Artaban, who planned to meet up with the other wisemen so they could meet with the Christ child together. Artaban had three jewels that he wanted to give the new born king. 

When Artaban saw the star, he saddle up his camel (or his horse) and set off. Along the way, he came across a traveler who had been robbed. Like a good Samaritan, he stopped and helped the man. Artaban gave the man rest his food meant for the trip. He use the sapphire to pay for food so he could continue his journey to meet with the other three wisemen. Artaban hurried on his way only to find that other wisemen had waited as long as they could and left without him. Artaban traveled alone to Bethlehem, but when he got there, he found out that Joseph and Mary had fled to Egypt with the baby Jesus. In his search for the departed Christ child, Artaban stopped at young mother's home. When the soldiers came to take her toddler away, Artaban gave the soldiers a ruby so that they would not search the home. As he gave away his second jewel, he felt remorse because that was his gift to Christ child.

Artaban left Jerusalem and headed for Egypt. He didn't find Jesus there and eventually he returned to Israel and searched for Jesus there. Artaban sought Jesus for the rest of his life, serving others in their time of need. Finally, he heard that Christ was to be crucified, so Artaban headed back to Jerusalem. On his way to Calvary, Artaban came across a young woman who was being sold into slavery to pay for her father's debts. Artaban took pity on her and gave his last jewel,the pearl to free the young woman from slavery. He immediately felt like he had betrayed Christ. Three times he had given away the gifts he wanted to give to Christ. 

But Christ appeared to Artaban in a vision when a brick from building hit him and quoted Matthew 25:40 - "Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."

Remember

On September 11, 2001, I was at Cottonwood Mall in Holladay doing my usual morning walk before heading to work. As I passed through the food court, the TV was on. I didn't realized it was breaking news, even when a retiree said something to me. I got to my car and listened to my usual radio station, which was also reporting breaking news of the World Trade Center being attacked by airplanes. Later that morning I found out that another airplane flew into the Pentagon. The two towers in Manhattan fell, while the Pentagon had a gaping hole for all of Washington to see. Thousands of people of different nationalities and demographics died that day. Not only did the passengers and crews of the plane die, but people who worked in the buildings, firefighters and police who went to the rescue and probably those who were visiting the buildings. Later in the day, United 93 crashed in Pennsylvania as some brave and courageous passengers took a plane down that terrorists had gained control. It was rumored that the plane was headed toward the White House or Congress.

As I watched the news, I had a impression that I knew someone who perished in these attacks. I  had a cousin who flew for American Airlines, but he was on vacation that day. Still I had that nagging feeling that I knew someone. A day or two later, I found out that my niece, Tracie lost a dear friend in the attack on America. She met Eugene Whalen while she was nanny in New York. Tracie missed her family in Portland and when she came home, Eugene followed. But when the call came to fulfill his dream of being a New York firefighter, he returned home. Eugene's shift had just ended when the call came in to rescue those in the World Trade Center.
I learned that day that not all patriots are in the military. Some wear the uniform of a firefighter or a policeman. Eugene was one who gave his all as were those who were on Flight 93.

As firefighters and other volunteers were clearing and finding people who had perished at Ground Zero, some firemen found an American flag. They found a flag pole and stood it up again. Once more the flag was flying, but this time in the rubble of the World Trade Center. Hope was raising once more that America would heal and move forward.
In the picture, there is a young boy standing at the monument. His father (or mother), who may or may not be in the picture may have brought him to the healing fields. He is like most students in elementary and  middle school who were born after 9/11, so it is important to tell them about what happen 15 years ago when we as nation stood together. As we teach them, hopefully we will remember the courageous people who died to save others. Like Eugene, like Flight 93. And those who survived who saved others from perishing like the men in one of the towers who brought carried a woman in wheel chair down all those stairs and the firemen who flew the flag over Ground Zero.

A Summer Miracle

Twenty plus years ago, Mike quit his job and went on the road. He settled for a time in Henderson, Nevada. After Henderson, he visited with Steven's family in California for a week and supposedly headed north to visit my sisters, but he never got there. For weeks, we did not hear from Mike. I remember having a dream that Mike came home. I wasn't sure what to make of the dream. Shortly after the dream, my brother came home to live with Mom again. He never set foot off the property again, which is why my mom told her home teacher that her oldest son would probably leave the house in a body bag. In all that time, we continued to pray for Mike that his spirit would heal.

Weekend of July 4, 2015

"Be still and know that I am God." These words from Psalm 46:10 kept coming to me during the 4th of July weekend last year. I was with my sisters on the Oregon coast. And I found the words invading my thoughts as July progressed. Why now? I was pretty much back on my feet after a health scare I had a few months earlier. Maybe it was because of my possible food allergies and being scheduled for another procedure in August. Or maybe it was because Laura and her husband brought up the declining health of my oldest brother. As we discussed Mike's current situation, we discussed his need to be removed from the house in Idaho. Laura could tell he wasn't doing well. Either it was her own observation or the regular calls she got from Jay who would often go to Idaho to buy Mike groceries. 

But whatever the reason Psalm 46:10 kept popping into my thoughts, it was reminder to think positive, stay calm and have faith that all would be well as another storm approached.

August 9, 2015

I woke up my usual time and had my liquid breakfast. I told Jay that I would only go to Sacrament meeting since I was prepping for procedures the next morning. As we were listening to Music and the Spoken Word, a call came from Mary that we needed to get to Idaho as soon as possible. Apparently Jay got a scary text from Mike which sounded like he needed emergency care.  John who lives nearby came and picked up Jay and they headed for Idaho. Their mission was to convince Mike to go to the hospital. After they left, I got out one of new coloring books. After looking thru the book "Mantra Mandalas Coloring Pages - Circles of Healing" by Delaina Miller and Kristin Hatch, I selected one that read "All is Well". Before l started coloring I texted Mike to ask him what his favorite colors were. I had decided to color in his honor as I sought comfort. I also thought of my pioneer ancestors who had crossed the plains with the Willie and Martin Handcart Parties. Pioneer Day had been celebrated a few weeks earlier, so the sacrifices that any pioneer had made to come to the Salt Lake Valley was still on my mind. My great grandfather Philpot froze to death somewhere in Wyoming and later his wife passed away also, leaving his daughters, Julie and Martha, my great grandmother, to come to the Salt Lake by themselves. Ann Grimshaw Jackson, another great grandmother had heart problems, so she and her would walk each day as her older children would push the handcarts. Her son, Joseph passed away shortly after arriving in Utah. As I colored I realized that despite the hardships my an ancestors suffered, all had turned well.  I even remember twenty something years ago during Pioneer Weekend when the roof of my apartment building had collapsed and my brothers and I were evacuated. While we hunted for an apartment, my adopted family let us stay with them, even though their kitchen was being remodeled. Remembering these stories reminded me that my siblings and I were not alone and somehow things would be okay. All would be well. 

Later that night my brothers came home safe and sound from their quick trip to Idaho. Mike had decided against going to the hospital, even after Suzie, a RN and LaRue, a CNA begged him to go. But my brothers had both mention that his heart had been soften. Mike admitted his health was failing and that he would need care soon.

August 30-31, 2015

Mike had called earlier to ask Jay to come up to Idaho to move a case of bottled water. Jay wasn't able to drive the almost 200 miles, so he asked LaRue to help out. She went to the house on a Sunday morning, knocked on the door, but Mike couldn't answer the door. He was too weak to get up and she couldn't get in because the door was locked and none of the neighbor's had a key. (Mike strictly forbade any neighbor from having the key because of his delusions.) LaRue called Jay or Mary just after 9am. Jay called the home teachers for a blessing and before I knew it he was heading to Idaho solo. I may have been teaching Primary that Sunday and with school starting at the university I didn't go. Jay arrived safely and got Mike off the floor and on to the cot in the living room. The case of bottled water was moved and both brothers slept in the house that night.

The next morning, the ambulance came because Mike got worse during the night. My brothers stayed at the hospital for a few hours. In the afternoon hours, all my siblings except for Mike had a emergency family council by the way of a conference call. The attorney brought us up to date. Our youngest brother, Jay had been appointed temporally as guardian for our oldest brother, Mike, who was being transported to St. Marks in Utah so he could be closer to family. From the attorney I learned that a high school classmate, RoZan was a nurse was riding with Mike in the ambulance. Another classmate of mine, Jay suggested that Mike listen to Gordon Lightfoot during the long drive. Knowing that two of my former high school classmate were at the hospital in Idaho at the time was a tender mercy for me.

After the conference call, I headed to St. Marks to meet Mike. Jay stayed in Idaho to tie up a few loose ends. I caught the bus and got off at the all too familiar hospital.(I've had a few procedures there.) I went to the ER to wait but was directed to go to the waiting room on the second level, near where I had surgery a few months earlier. I sat near the window where I could look over the hospital entrance, but I never saw the ambulance pull up. While I was waiting, I noticed that one of my neighbors was performing a surgery. It was another tender mercy to know that he was there.  A man from the ER came up to tell me that Mike had arrived and when he was situated in his room, I would be able to visit him.Then I turned my attention toward the entrance of the Critical Care Unit. Not long after, I saw Mike on the stretcher as he was brought into the CCU. I was still waiting when John arrived a half hour later. We both walked to the CCU  and before long we saw Mike. Before we left, my neighbor stopped to talk to me. I choked up when he asked about Mike; how does one explain a 20 plus years nightmare ending as a unexpected miracle. 

After I got home from the hospital, my sister forwarded a text from LaRue. I was touched when I read ". . . Many miracles happened today. Your prayers were felt and answered in many ways. The doctor and the nurse did an amazing job; everything worked together like clockwork. . . The Lord worked trough many people today to make things happened. . . My prayers are with you all as many others here, it was an amazing day of miracles."

"Be still and know that I am God."  
Psalm 46:10

She moms

(The following text is from memory, not word for word)

Me: How are doing? 

Her: Okay, how are you?

Me: Just trying to tell a wannabe cold to take a hike.

Her: Get some rest, take a shower and eat chocolate. :)

Me: Thank you, Dr. Ohana 

I later called Dr. Ohana's mom and told her that she had been a grandma since the age of five. Jewel laughed; she knows her daughter well.

Crystal was recuperating from surgery when I decided to text her. After the text I realized I had been mothered by a newlywed. Do brides become moms once they say "I do"? But on further thought I decided that Crystal had been practicing motherhood since toddlerhood. Once while playing with her baby doll, she asked her mom to babysit while she went shopping. She would usually tenderly and gently hold her baby dolls as if it was a living breathing baby. As Crystal matured, she was always thinking of others. She would bring vacation souvenirs home for family and close friends; no was left behind. When Crystal leaves heart attacks on my door, she includes a few for Jay. Crystal understood the meaning of Ohana before Disney (or was it Warner Brothers) released "Lilo and Snitch".  

Crystal isn't the only Dr. Ohana I've known. I've spent Christmas and Easter's at Jewel, her mom's home. I've been included in extended family events, like Thanksgiving. And my brothers have been invited to farewells and homecomings. Even wedding receptions. A year before Crystal was born, Jay and I had been evacuated from our apartment complex. We stayed with Jewel and her family until we found another place to live. Crystal learned of Ohana through her mother's example.

There is a Dr. Ohana at work, who looks after others in the office. Barb came to Tuition after working at the bookstore. She still includes Alex, a book store employee,  in her circle. Barb has a listening ear even for those which she may disagree with. She has taken a single mom under her wing, adopting her children as her own grandchildren. Barb even provides lunch for my boss, her brother of another mother. Both are from New York and behave like typical siblings. Barb listened to me when I talked of my troubles dealing with a dependent adult sibling and dealing with my mom's estate. She still listens as I struggle to fit in at the workplace. Barb takes the Ohana thing seriously, she is supportive of those she knows,  even through her own trials. 

And then there is my sister, a math major turned substitute teacher. Laura took care of my mom in her final days. She was willing to call the necessary people for me when I was chosen as Mom's personal representative. And now that Jay is our oldest brother's guardian, she calls the necessary people in Utah so that our brother can get the care he needs. She's a Dr. Ohana to more than her husband and children and doesn't let distance get in the way. 

There are plenty of Dr. Ohana's on the world. They aren't always moms, but they are usually aware of the needs of others and doing something about it, even when traveling through their own tribulations. She moms who loves and cares and willing to make a difference without thought of recognition. Dr. Ohana moms with the heart. 

Holy Week, Part Two

EASTER SUNDAY

March 27th

The quote from Clarence W. Hall pretty much sums what Easter is to me. My cousin's daughter posted this to her wall (now timeline) on Facebook some years ago. On Thursday, Jesus introduced the sacrament at the last supper, was betrayed by Judas Iscariot and suffered in Gethsemane for our sins. On Friday, Jesus faced a angry mob and was sentenced to death at biased trial, then died on the cross for us all, so that we could be saved, redeemed and resurrected with the hopes of having eternal life. 

March 23rd
Wednesday evening, I read 4th chapter in "Christ-Centered Easter" so that I could catch up. I read about women who testified of Christ, not just in the Savior's day, but in today's world. The author talked of the women in Serbia who taught their children about Easter while under communist rule. They testified of Christ under trying circumstances. We are all called to be witnesses of Christ, even when it is hard. One way to testify of Christ is to give up something for a greater purpose and to forgive others.
March 24th
As I reading 5th chapter in "Christ-Centered Easter", I thought of my niece Lily, probably because lilies were mentioned as a symbol of believing. Lily's mother was told that she may not have children. So Lily's parents fasted and prayed about having a child and struggled with doubts of having a family of more than two adults. After reading this short chapter, I was glad that Lily had the name she was given. Lily's birth is a miracle. Lily is a reminder to believe, to have faith, to hope and to doubt our doubts.
March 27th
Thomas was one of the Twelve Apostles who saw Christ after he had been resurrected. Since others had testified of the resurrected Christ, he was doubtful that Jesus had returned. Thomas's faith was rewarded when he was able to see Christ and to touch his hand.
On Sunday morning in "The Holy Week", I read that lilies are symbolic of the resurrection because they are buried in the ground during the winter and bloom in the spring. Again I was glad that my niece was given the name of Lily, because she raised a hope in her parents of being a mother and a father.
I also thought of daffodils this morning and how a hope rises in me when I see those yellow blooms. In Utah, they are usually the first blooms of spring after a long, but sometimes bitter winter. When I see the rays of sunshine in the daffodils I know winter is over and spring as unpredictable as it can be is here. Even on snowy day, the sunshine flowers still thrive.

March 25th

After half way through Research Park, I decided to pull out "Christ-Centered Easter". I read about the two men who walked along  the road to Emanus. As they walked, a stranger joined them. And when the men recognized that Jesus was the stranger, he disappeared from their view. Although we can't witness Christ in the flesh, he walks with us. Especially in our more trying times.
March 26th
I came across the poem "Footprints" when my dad died. It was a comfort for me, because I knew I wasn't alone in my suffering. It meant something last year while I was recuperating from surgery. I reminded that the Good Shepherd is mindful of me and still watching over me. In my hardest times, Jesus is carrying me.

March 27th
Christ appear to others, not just to the women at the tomb or the disciples who were traveling along the road to Emmaus or to a doubting, but faithful Thomas, Jesus appeared to Saul when he was headed to Damascus to persecute more Christians. Jesus Christ also appeared to the Nephites and Lamanites in the new world. These early Americans had just endured three days of extreme darkness after experiencing hard core earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes, flood and other earthly disturbances. While ministering to his sheep in the Americas, he healed the disabled, victims of the natural disasters and children. In modern days, Jesus Christ and our Heavenly Father appeared to Joseph Smith in the Sacred Grove.
March 26th
I finished "Christ-Centered Easter" this morning and read the last chapter just a few minutes ago. After reading it, I realized I was to read this chapter on Easter. I was impressed with the Easter Sermon that she quoted from a dear friend. In this chapter, the author asked us to prepare for Easter and I think that is what Lent and the Holy Week do. And probably why my stake president from years ago gave members of his stake a pamphlet. She also invited the reader to celebrate Easter every day. To be grateful for Christ as done for us.

March 27th

In the 16th chapter of Mark, I learned that Mary Magdalene and another Mary came to the tomb to attend to body of Jesus. Probably to finish what they could not do late Friday afternoon. They were surprised to see the stone rolled away and were probably relieved because they had been concerned about how they would roll it away. When the women saw the empty tomb, their concerns increased. A young man clothed in white told them not to be afraid for Jesus Christ was not here, but had risen. He instructed them to tell the others, particularly the disciples of Christ and Peter. Mary Magdalene and Mary were obedient and testified of the empty tomb after they left.

In the book "The Holy Week for Latter-Day Saint Families", it spoke of the Easter tradition of decorating eggs. Eggs are a symbol of new life, coloring the egg is a symbol of a better life. Sometimes an Easter egg will turn my attention to the Savior during the Sacrament. I reminded of what Jesus Christ did for us in Gethsemane and on the cross. He was resurrected so that we could have a better life; to have eternal life.