My Gift

Through some strange turn of events I found this picture of Katie on her old red camera. I think it is a cute picture and it was a fun discovery. But this got me thinking when I talked to a man in Sunday School today. I don't know him and had never met him before. And when he made a comment in class, it was obvious that he is in extreme spiritual and emotional pain. I turned to talk to him after class just to reassure him that he is not the only one that has ever felt completely alone and devoid of hope.

Of course throughout our conversion I kept thinking of my trials of losing Katie. I had been told many times that we cannot control our circumstances, but we can control the way we react to them. I do believe that this is true, but sometimes the mere act of getting up in the morning is the only control that you have strength enough to exert over the circumstances that you find yourself in. And let's face it, that is not enough to drive the oppressive doubts and fears away. But I have also learned that the act of getting up every morning is a small act of faith. After days, week, months of these tiny pieces of faith the sun does begin to shine again. And sometimes the blessings that are received after the trials of our faith can be as insignificant as a hidden photo. But this photo is anything but insignificant to me, it is proof that someone loves me and wants me to keep getting up every morning.   It shows me that the past is not forgotten, but life keeps moving, and, likewise, I must not forget the past, but keep moving always.