Sunday, January 14--I was not in the best of spirits as I arrived at church this morning. I had a headache from staying up too late the night before. The morning had been stressfull and we still had managed to be late for church even with the long-awaited 11:00 a.m. schedule that was somehow supposed to miraculously make everything better. Then someone had had the nerve to sit in our bench, the same back bench my family has sat in nearly every Sunday for the past 15 years.

The speaker announced her topic and the first thing I thought was, we have heard this conference talk three times in Sacrament Meeting and at least once in Relief Society already. I looked at the young beautiful, perfectly dressed and coifed--and very pregnant--mother beginning a talk about being heavy laden and prepared myself to have another "Groundhog Day" moment for the next 20 minutes or so. (I really must have been in a mood, because normally hearing one so pregnant mention the words "heavy laden" would've sent me giggling.)

She was new to the area, preparing to move in what will probably be one of the most beautiful and perfect homes in our neighborhood. I'd met her a few times and liked her. She was very sweet, and I had been hoping to get to know her better. (Not to mention, I really wanted to not be jealous of her.) But I looked at what I assumed to be her perfect life and wondered what she could possibly add to the repetitive messages about being heavy laden.

I couldn't have been more wrong. At one point in her talk she apologized for all the stories and I just wanted to say aloud, "No. Please. Keep them coming." Her stories were hard. Her experiences were real. Her talk was moving. She spoke with a depth, wisdom and maturity that belied her years.

She has substance, I thought, because she has suffered.

She told of the difficulties in forgiving oneself of an errant past. She recounted vividly the pain of an intense cancer treatment that nearly killed her but finally saved her. She was only in her mid-twenties. Her mere presence reminded us of the miracle that one who was told she may never have children now stood before us with her second child on the way. She reminded us that we can choose for the devil to have no power over us and also for the Savior to lighten the most heavy of burdens. (And yet in the same breath she admitted that she loved to watch "Labyrinth" because she liked to watch David Bowie.)

I like this girl! Her husband spoke of patience and his stories were good enough to keep my 15-year-old awake and attentive, so you know that was amazing, too. It was the best meeting!

Capped with a Relief Society lesson in which we talked of death, gave one another hand massages and bawled our eyes out over this amazing story, and I thought, going to church doesn't get any better than this!

Thought for the day: "No pang that is suffered by man or woman upon the earth will be without its compensating effect...if it be met with patience."~James E. Talmage