Skip to main content

Little Testimonies

Once a month at church we have a meeting called Fast and Testimony Meeting. After taking the sacrament, members of the congregation are invited to share their testimony of gospel truths from the pulpit. The first testimony yesterday was about 'little testimonies'. Little testimonies are those times when the Lord works for us in small ways, like finding lost items or prompting us in other every day kind of ways.

Tithing has always been a hard spot for our family. It's not that we don't want to give back 10% to the Lord, it's just that we always seem to be in need of every dime. We've been blessed with a great job for Eric and pay raises over the years, but we've also increased our spending (foolish mortals). Now with the price of everything on the rise, the gap between necessary costs and frivolous purchases is shrinking even more. It can be a struggle to write that check when you know that you've got X amount of dollars to last the week and you need gas, milk, school field trip money, etc etc etc.

But yesterday Eric wrote that tithing check.

I've been waiting to buy Carly a winter jacket. Good coats are so expensive and she is growing so quickly that we'll only get a few months of wear out of it. We went to New Mexico without one, hoping that while we were there the weather would hold and her fall jacket would be sufficient. New Mexico graced us with blue skies and temps around 60. Once we got back home, though, hello 20s.

Cute Pam and I went visiting teaching this morning. Our first stop was Amy's house. Amy's house is always just beautiful to look at and so comfortable, a perfect mix of style and coziness. Amy has 3 kids and one on the way; her lone girl is a year older than Carly. She asked if Carly has been playing out in the snow (we got a nice snowfall on Saturday) and I said no because I didn't want to pay for a winter coat yet (I've been hoping for a good sale). She popped right up and said "Let me see if I have Sabrina's old jackets". Down the basement stairs she went and came back up with boots, a jacket and snow pants. AND a jacket for Josh.

We didn't pray for a coat. But Heavenly Father knew and worked through Amy to provide for our needs.

My faith is often shakey, my mind is often questioning but the Lord never gives up on me or forgets me.

D&C 84:81-85
Therefore, take ye no thought for the morrow, for what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink, or wherewithal ye shall be clothed.
For, consider the lilies of the field, how they grow, they toil not, neither do they spin; and the kingdoms of the world, in all their glory, are not arrayed like one of these.
For your Father, who is in heaven, knoweth that you have need of all these things.
Therefore, let the morrow take thought for the things of itself.
...treasure up in your minds continually the words of life, and it shall be given you in the very hour that portion that shall be meted unto every man.
There's a little testimony for you.

Comments

Pam said…
I have a some sturdy winter jackets if you need one for Carley
Amen and amen.

Thanks, Sarah.

*I* know that *HE* knows how amazing you really are.
JustRandi said…
This story gives me good chills.
Of course I know about tithing, and that I am always blessed more than I ask when I follow the law.
But what I love about your story is that you didn't even ASK for a coat.
Heavenly Father does know what we're going through, doesn't he?

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Carly,

I assume that one day you will come to me wanting to know who you are, where you came from, where your other family is and why they gave you to us.  I offer you little bits of information already, but certainly not crumbs enough to satisfy the appetite.  Perhaps it won't matter to you.  I am assuming a lot, already, about how adoption will impact your life.

People often wonder why adoptive parents are hurt when their children seek out biological roots.  I have the answer, and it's very simple.  Adoption - at its core - makes us question the legality, authority, voracity, and validity of parenthood.  For most adoptive parents, first you must come to terms with an issue that strikes at the foundations of mortality: fertility.  From birth, most of us are driven to form families.  First we are nestlings, nurtured and weened and eventually taught to fly.  Then we are nest-builders, filling our lives with the stuff necessary to drive life forward.  Knowledge, safety, money, a sturdy …

On being away from home and turning sixteen: a letter to my son

Dear Josh,

I missed your sixteenth birthday.  I'm sure you recall - or maybe it wasn't so bad because you spent the whole day with your friend watching movies.  Godzilla and Guardians of the Galaxy, you've said.  It's no surprise to me that Godzilla was your favorite of the two.  That atomic green monster holds a special place in your heart.

It was very difficult for me to be away from you when you crossed this threshold in your life.  I remember turning sixteen, being sixteen, and wondering when I would feel like I was actually sixteen.  When I was sixteen, I went and found my first job, I started driving myself around, and I pretty much felt like I was in the wrong skin.  I'm only now, at 37, beginning to feel in the right skin.  Or at least comfortable with the skin I'm in.  But you - well, you don't seem to have a problem being you.  I can't explain how very happy that makes me feel, how very reassured.  Because it can be really hard not to like you…

Dear Carly (on your 9th birthday),

I can't remember what it is like to turn nine years old.  From watching you turn nine, it must have been difficult because it seems like everything is either really, really greator really, really bad.  Some days I think I might get whiplash from the mood swings (and you're not a teenager yet!).   But overall, I think nine must also be really wonderful.  You seem to be full of joy, even moments after being full of woe.  It's as if the joy just pushes the other stuff out.  It practically oozes from your pores.  More than that, on the days you choose to be happy, the whole world sings with you.  People are infected by it, drawn in to your sweet smile and shining eyes.  Attracted like bugs to a light.  You shine, dear little diva, so brightly sometimes it's blinding.

We just spent three weeks together in California, and I must have complained too much about your behavior because your dad believes we are oil and water right now.  I'd prefer to see us as oil and vinegar …