I had a really hard day on Friday. I was dealing with some disappointment, I was dealing with a lack of sleep, and I was feeling lonely. But I learned two things.
1. I told Bryan that I really wished that someone would feel prompted to call me. That it's really frustrating, sometimes, when everyone thinks you must be okay because you go to church every week and put on a smiling face. Well, Sunday came, and my friend told me that she thought about calling me several times, but she was sick. While I'm sad that she didn't act on those promptings, I knew that Heavenly Father had sent them. And I know that he loves me.
2. It really was only a day. In the past, I have gotten sucked into depression because I let my sad feelings linger and take hold of me. I'm learning, and sometimes succeeding, how to let a bad day be just one day. I'm learning how to recognize that the feelings don't last, that life moves on, and I can let go and move on. This is the perfect example of the enabling power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. He is making me more than I can be on my own.
Our God, to whom we turn
When weary, weary with illusion,
Whose stars serenely burn
Above this earth’s confusion,
Thine is the mighty plan,
The steadfast order sure
In which the world began,
Endures, and will endure.
Thou art Thyself the truth;
Though we who fain would find Thee,
Have tried, with thoughts uncouth,
In feeble words to bind Thee,
It is because Thou art
We’re driven to the quest;
Till truth from falsehood part,
Our souls can find no rest.
All beauty speaks of Thee:
The mountains and the rivers,
The line of lifted sea,
Where spreading moonlight quivers,
The deep-toned organ blast
That rolls through arches dim,
Hints of the music vast
Of Thine eternal hymn.
Wherever goodness lurks
We catch Thy tones appealing;
Where man for justice works
Thou art Thyself revealing;
The blood of Man, for man
On friendship’s altar spilt,
Betrays the mystic plan
On which Thy house is built.
Thou hidden fount of love,
Of peace, and truth, and beauty,
Inspire us from above
With joy and strength for duty.
May Thy fresh light arise, arise
Within each clouded heart,
And give us open eyes
To see Thee as Thou art.
To see Thee as Thou art.
-Edward Grubb (1925)
When weary, weary with illusion,
Whose stars serenely burn
Above this earth’s confusion,
Thine is the mighty plan,
The steadfast order sure
In which the world began,
Endures, and will endure.
Thou art Thyself the truth;
Though we who fain would find Thee,
Have tried, with thoughts uncouth,
In feeble words to bind Thee,
It is because Thou art
We’re driven to the quest;
Till truth from falsehood part,
Our souls can find no rest.
All beauty speaks of Thee:
The mountains and the rivers,
The line of lifted sea,
Where spreading moonlight quivers,
The deep-toned organ blast
That rolls through arches dim,
Hints of the music vast
Of Thine eternal hymn.
Wherever goodness lurks
We catch Thy tones appealing;
Where man for justice works
Thou art Thyself revealing;
The blood of Man, for man
On friendship’s altar spilt,
Betrays the mystic plan
On which Thy house is built.
Thou hidden fount of love,
Of peace, and truth, and beauty,
Inspire us from above
With joy and strength for duty.
May Thy fresh light arise, arise
Within each clouded heart,
And give us open eyes
To see Thee as Thou art.
To see Thee as Thou art.
-Edward Grubb (1925)
