In Need of Some Polishing and Writing Assignment #34 Trials

The date is fast approaching where I will mark 45 years since I happily and willfully committed to sharing my life with Dale. A life that would be, as he always said, to stand beside him, not below him and not above him but at his side as his equal and yet under his arm for protection and near his heart for love. I liked that.

One of the sparkling moments I remember about that wedding day is my dear sweet Grandfather at the wedding reception. He looked happy, no make that joyous, well even better, there was the glow of a perfectly contented man about him. I had asked him to make and serve the wedding cake that Grandma had become famous for over the years.  She died a year before and he took over the duty of making the cakes, actually even long before her death as she struggled and struggled with health issues.  I watched him (in the kitchen of the house he had built with his own hands) make a cake one day. I eagerly tried to acquire the secret recipe.  But alas, it was a handful of this and a handful of that.  And his hands were easily twice the size of mine. A sprinkle of this and a sprinkle of that.  No measuring cups or measuring spoons or recipes ever appeared and there were so many ingredients that I gave in with a smile and a request that he would make a cake for me on my wedding day. “That’s fine, just fine” he said as he always did with that twinkle in his eye. 

Four years later he was gone. Funny it seemed to me that this man would live forever.

I read his autobiography yesterday. I thought it had been lost but to my delight, my sister had it! I read of his trials and of his constant bravery in overcoming the most horrific challenges meeting them head on and he never once lost his faith or his love of life or love for his wife and children. Together he and Grandma faced loss of crops, two world wars, the depression of the 20’s the depression of the 30’s, his home being struck by lightning and burning to the ground and that was after his childhood with a broken home, and being a victim of an uncaring step-mother, having mumps, chicken pox, measles, smallpox, diphtheria, scarlet fever, nearly freezing to death in 50 degrees below zero weather and having his legs and arms turn black from frost bite until his brothers rolled him in the snow and slowly the color returned.  And this is to just name a few things!  The accidents, the burst appendix, the devastating tornadoes and the home engulfing flood etc. etc.

   

And yet…AND YET…he was one of the most spiritual, most happy, most peaceful and devoted men I have ever known. I used to love riding with him in the harvester where he would prop his Bible up against the steering wheel to read as he moved down row after row of golden wheat. He never stopped believing, he never stopped progressing, he never stopped…well he just never stopped!

A great man, a great leader and happy as a lark in the simple act of serving cake at my wedding reception.

We asked him once how he was able to overcome all of his trials and he just smiled and said oh it was just the Lord’s refining fire.

I came upon this writing during a google search one day and it has stuck with me ever since.  Sadly the author is unknown so I can’t give the credit which is so richly deserved:

THE SILVERSMITH

Some time ago, a few ladies met to study the scriptures. While reading the third chapter of Malachi, they came upon a remarkable expression in the third verse:

    "And He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver" (Malachi 3:3).

One lady decided to visit a silversmith, and report to the others on what he said about the subject.

She went accordingly, and without telling him the reason for her visit, begged the silversmith to tell her about the process of refining silver. After he had fully described it to her, she asked, "Sir, do you sit while the work of refining is going on?"

"Oh, yes ma'am," replied the silversmith; "I must sit and watch the furnace constantly, for, if the time necessary for refining is exceeded in the slightest degree, the silver will be injured."

The lady at once saw the beauty and comfort of the expression, "He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver."

God sees it necessary to put His children into the furnace; but His eye is steadily intent on the work of purifying, and His wisdom and love are both engaged in the best manner for us. Our trials do not come at random, and He will not let us be tested beyond what we can endure.

Before she left, the lady asked one final question, "How do you know when the process is complete?"

"That's quite simple," replied the silversmith. "When I can see my own image in the silver, the refining process is finished."

And I think of Grandpa. And I think of my own trials and the challenges I face on a daily basis. Is this the Lord chipping away (like the song says) at what I don’t need, a change in the making to become closer and closer to who I’m meant to be? And my mind wanders back in time to the 9 year old “little girl me” playing in the vacant field next to our home. It was filled with dirt and rocks and I discovered quite by accident one day that once broken the ugly old rocks were beautiful inside!  I ran to the garage and opened Dad’s tool chest and carefully pulled out a hammer which I took to the field and put one egg sized rock upon a larger flat one and gave a quick smack with the hammer and voila! Beauty within. This became a fun hobby.

Perhaps these trials of mine that feel at times like a hammer’s blow are actually refining and revealing and readying me to be polished so that I can glow with the joy of contentment and of a life well lived like Grandpa did on that wedding day?

I don’t feel as if Grandpa is laughing at me for thinking my challenges are so great when his were so much more horrendous (he surely could) but I do feel of his love and concern. And I feel the strength of his support and just knowing he became who he was meant to be (because he never stopped or murmured or gave in) is what I needed to push through another day while the Lord is lovingly working on a better version of me and giving me the chance to move closer to His glory.

        "Change In The Making" by Addison Road (check it out on youtube!)

There's a better version of me
That I can't quite see
But things are gonna change
Right now I'm a total mess and
Right now I'm completely incomplete
But things are gonna change
'Cause you're not through with me yet

This is redemption's story
With every step that I'm taking
Every day, you're chipping away
What I don't need
This is me under construction
This is my pride being broken
And every day I'm closer to who I'm meant to be
I'm a change in the making

Wish I could live more patiently
Wish I would give a little more of me
Without stopping to think twice
Wish I had faith like a little child
Wish I could walk a single mile
Without tripping on my own feet
But you're not through with me yet

This is redemption's story
With every step that I'm taking
Every day, you're chipping away
What I don't need
This is me under construction
This is my pride being broken
And every day I'm closer to who I'm meant to be

From the dawn of history
You make new and you redeem
From a broken world to a broken heart
You finish what you start in everything

Like a river rolls into the sea
We're not who we're going to be
But things are going to change

I'm Livin' redemption's story
With every step that I'm taking
Every day, you're chipping away
What I don't need
This is me under construction
This is my pride being broken
And every day I'm closer to who I'm meant to be
I'm a change in the making
I'm not who I'm gonna be
Moving closer to your glory

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WRITING ASSIGNMENT #34 - TRIALS

Take time to write about the trials and challenges you have had in your life and how you overcame them or fell prey to them!  Give advice to your posterity on how you handled them or should have handled them. Teach! Share your experiences with the wisdom that you have gained.  And if you are young and still going through life's challenges - write down your commitment to yourself  to stay strong and to not be consumed with the trials or experiences that come your way. Anytime you read something that gives you strength to persevere - keep a note of it in this chapter of your autobiography.

The "What If's" Potholes

OK so I was driving down the highway entertaining random thoughts that filled my head as they often do when I don’t have anything particular to think about, and out of nowhere I started meandering down a mental path pockmarked with all of the potholes of “What If’s!”  What if I had done this, what if I hadn’t done that? What if Dale had gone to another Doctor? What if we had made different choices? What if…What if….what if….would Dale be here with me now?? 

The anger surged and hot tears started to flow.  I stopped at a red light and let the tears fall and pounded my hand on the steering wheel. A quick glance to the left and I caught the eye of a child in the car next to me staring wide eyed with a concerned and puzzled look on his sweet little face.  I quickly got my act together and wiped away my tears and tried to give him an "I’m Okay" kind of a smile and the light turned green.  He was gone and I wondered how many decisions he would be making in his life and hoped they would all be good ones!

So where did it get me…going down that path that still exists even after over 2 ½ years alone? That path strewn with What If’s…What did it get me? As always it got me Nothing! Nothing changed, nothing could, just more tears and sadness which is nonproductive and even harmful!  So I rallied and thought OK what I need to do is to get off this road filled with the potholes of What If’s and get back on the path with the stepping stones of “What Now’s?”

Home now I continue to ponder. What decisions do I want to make now to be certain that 10 years from now I don’t find myself on the “Oh What If?” path looking back at these years or worse hitting  the “Oh if I’d only!” potholes?

I’ve worked so hard trying to accept, understand and survive my circumstances and emotions that have followed with me since Dale died. Is it any easier now? Not really.  It’s different but it’s still not easy.  I used many of those “What Now” stepping stones to get me where I am.  It has been a long journey and I have experienced so much but the pain and the loneliness are still intense.  Pres. Thomas S. Monson described it best as this:

“After the funeral flowers fade, the well wishes of friends become memories, the prayers offered and words spoken dim in the corridors of the mind. Those who grieve frequently join that vast throng I shall entitle “The Long Line of the Lonely.” Missed is the laughter of children, the commotion of teenagers, and the tender, loving concern of a departed companion. The clock ticks more loudly, time passes more slowly, and four walls do indeed a prison make.”

He gets it.  That’s exactly how it is. And once again I ask myself… What now? But no answers come this time.  I feel discouraged and afraid and I start to face the reality of what I am trying to do and begin to make a quick mental list of all the potential failures and disappointments and hard work…. and then….I pray…and then…. I think of Peter.  

Peter walking on the water towards Christ, he is walking on the water!  But then he looks around him, he must be thinking that this cannot be possible, he must be thinking of all of the reasons why he can’t possibly be doing this! And he starts to sink into the water and I too feel myself sink but into despair and I feel broken.

And Jesus said to Peter,  “O ye of little faith. wherefore didst thou doubt?

I pause in my self-pity. After all that has happened these last 2+ years, all of the miracles ~ all of the help, am I suddenly lacking in faith? Am I looking around at all of the potential reasons why this is impossible and doubting that I can succeed…alone?

I remember a talk given by Jeffrey Holland and look it up.  He said:

“If you are lonely, please know you can find comfort. If you are discouraged, please know you can find hope. If you are poor in spirit, please know you can be strengthened. If you feel you are broken, please know you can be mended.”

And then he quoted this poem by George Blair:

The Carpenter of Nazareth

In Nazareth, the narrow road,

That tires the feet and steals the breath,

Passes the place where once abode

The Carpenter of Nazareth.

And up and down the dusty way

The village folk would often wend;

And on the bench, beside Him, lay

Their broken things for Him to mend.

The maiden with the doll she broke,

The woman with the broken chair,

The man with broken plough, or yoke,

Said, “Can you mend it, Carpenter?”

And each received the thing he sought,

In yoke, or plough, or chair, or doll;

The broken thing which each had brought

Returned again a perfect whole.

So, up the hill the long years through,

With heavy step and wistful eye,

The burdened souls their way pursue,

Uttering each the plaintive cry:

“O Carpenter of Nazareth,

This heart, that’s broken past repair,

This life, that’s shattered nigh to death,

Oh, can You mend them, Carpenter?”

And by His kind and ready hand,

His own sweet life is woven through

Our broken lives, until they stand

A New Creation—“all things new.”

“The shattered [substance] of [the] heart,

Desire, ambition, hope, and faith,

Mould Thou into the perfect part,

O, Carpenter of Nazareth!”

So I step back onto the path of What Now’s and suddenly I’m coming up with "What Now?" answers.

Keeping Down the Overwhelm & Writing Assignment #33 Work

Some days you just need some beauty to keep down the overwhelm.  Today was just such a day so I picked up my camera (albeit reluctantly) and went looking for beauty. This is what I found.....

For the beauty of the earth

For the joy of ear and eye

For the heart and brain's delight

Linking sense to sound and sight

(From the hymn by Folliott S. Pierpoint 1864)

And...I feel better. To think I would have missed all of this if I'd just stayed home and pouted the way I wanted to!

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WRITING ASSIGNMENT #33 WORK WORK WORK

What was the first job you  have after High School?

Why did you chose this job?

Tell what you did, and what it was like there:

1. The Place
2. The people
3. Your Boss
4. What you wore
5. How much $ you made.

How it influenced you for future job/career choices

What led you to your current line of work or career?

How did your level of education influence your career?

Tell about each job that you have had - describing the above 1. 2. 3. 4. and if you want 5.

Share your successes as well as your learning experiences. 

Making a Mountain Out of A Mole and Writing Assignment #32 - Answered Prayers

It all started with a mole, in the dead center of my back where it can only be reached with a yoga like contortion struggle.  Well, it started to itch on Friday night. All weekend, itch, itch, itch.  Day and night.

Monday morning I decided to google it…hmmm funny how the noun google has transformed into a verb now…but I digress…what I quickly found in my search is that an itchy mole is a potential sign of cancer.

I found the telephone number of a dermatologist center and called. 

“Umm I don’t know if I’m over reacting here but I have a mole that is itching like crazy and…”

“We need to get you in!” she interrupted.

My fears building at this point.

“We had a cancellation for this morning; can you come in right away?”

Driving there my mind quickly entered that realm where one defines and then entertains the worst case scenario.  What if the doctor says I have cancer and that I have six months to live?

Frankly, I didn’t know what to pray for!  Six months to be able to be with Dale wasn’t a bad possibility. Six months to get everything done I’ve ever wanted to do…well that would be an impossibility. Not being around to see my grandchildren grow and experience life? Oh that doesn’t seem possible at all!  So I simply prayed: “Thy will be done”; parked the car; took a deep breath and feeling a bit numb, headed toward the clinic doors.

Forty five minutes later I was back in the car, the mole had been removed and the prognosis was that it was not the cancerous type.

I put the keys in the ignition and just then noticed I had parked under a tree with the most vibrant yellow autumn leaves.  It was good to be alive.  Although my emotions did a little flip flop back and forth between: Sorry Dale, won’t be seeing you any time soon, to Woo-Hoo I'm going to live, to Oh dear how do I make every day count!

Truth be told I’ve never been a real fan of the “Live every day as if it were your last” statement as it’s a bit overwhelming.  Yes, it’s good to use it as a barometer for being “good” but as far as getting everything done, well it is a bit daunting.  I guess that comes from too many Christmas Eve’s or big projects that require a massive amount of last minute work!  LOL.  Easy to get overwhelmed if that’s the daily plan.

But the truth is, I’m very aware of my many family members and friends who fill their days with great humanitarian projects. They are doing such good in the world!  Major things that I am incapable of doing now. So of what value is this time? I'm discouraged. And yet, in answer to my prayer, evidently the Lord’s will is that I stick around for a while.

I drive home still feeling relieved but disturbed at the same time.

I realize I hadn’t checked the mail so I reach inside my mailbox and pull out a letter from my 6 year old grandson that I couldn't wait to open before driving into the garage.  A precious “I love Grandma” note written in his kindergarten hand. Talk about a reason for living! 

My heart is gladdened although still troubled by what I have to offer at this point in my life.  I come to my computer and open up my email.  The daily message reads:

"As daughters of God we are each unique and different in our circumstances and experiences. And yet our part matters—because we matter." —Elaine S. Dalton

And then I remember the little wooden plaque I saw the other day…

It reminds me of the children’s song I learned at church so many many years ago, I start singing:

My light is but a little one,

My light of faith and prayer;

But lo! it glows like God's great sun,

For it was lighted there.

I may not hide my little light;

The Lord has told me so.

'Tis given me to keep in sight,

That all may see it glow.

Shine on, shine on, shine on bright and clear;

Shine on, shine on now the day is here.

Yes…Now the day is here. A gift t'would seem and perhaps what I have to give, even though it’s small is enough if it’s given whole-heartedly, certainly a widow’s mite in comparison.But it's what I have.  A day that started with fear, ended with resolve - To do what I can, giving freely of my little light for the rest of my life, which very well could be longer than 6 months now!

(Words and music to Shine On: Joseph Ballantyne, 1868-1944)

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WRITING ASSIGNMENT #32 - Answered Prayers

Tell about a time or times when God answered a specific prayer for you.  What was your challenge or need, how did you ask, how was it answered?

Also add to this writing:

What individual(s) have had the greatest impact on your spiritual life?
How did they impact your life?

What person(s) in the scriptures would you most like to meet? Why?
How has this person's or persons' story(ies) influenced your life?

A September Morning and Writing Assignment #31 Marriage Part 2

There it was.  I felt it!  Undeniable and yet so real - but it was only for a brief instant. Heading out to my car to drive to the lake for a morning walk and wearing a light weight jacket (a decision based upon the weather forecast for cooler temps) there it was…that sensation of  “There's a touch of autumn in the air”.  An awakening of the senses for just a blink and yet the hope of hot apple cider or caramel apples or pulling on a sweater and curling up with a good book fill my very being.

The morning is bright and crisp, not a cloud in the sky. As I drive, a few leaves swirl down from a tree and one lands on my windshield and lodges itself on a wiper. I happily welcome it along for the ride.   I stop at a red light and watch a big yellow school bus drive by. Every window is occupied by wide eyed children undoubtedly dressed in new school clothes, clinging tightly to new backpacks filled with new pencils and notebooks and the lunch Mom prepared that will have a little note of encouragement taped on top of the sandwich bag – a source of comfort and embarrassment for the little one trying to feel grown up and independent on the first day of school.

Parking at the lake I spy a large new flock of geese making their approach. Squawking in excitement they break their V- formation as they reach their destination from their colder northern summer home and settle happily onto the calm water.

The sky is a brilliant blue, the sun is bright and casts diamonds on the water making it necessary to pull on my sunglasses but it isn’t a hot sun, I’m glad to have worn the jacket.

The walk is delightful and invigorating and I drive home with a happy heart.

I shower, wrap my hair in a towel and getting dressed I spy a blouse from last autumn hanging in the closet. Perfect I think.  I put it on and then discover that the last button is….horrors of horrors…TIGHT!  NOOOOO!!!  How can that be?

And that one button, that one small brown button made from a pinch of a fragile seashell has the power to open a Pandora’s box. My mind is flooded with discouragement, disappointment and all of those demoralizing “Why Try” items on an imaginary list…Why try dieting, why try walking, why try exercising, why try writing, why try painting, why try doing anything, I’m alone, I’m all of the deplorable THIS's and I’m definitely not all of the desirable THAT's! Down – down - down it takes me and then… Imagine the sound of screeching brakes and tires here as a very powerful thought comes to my mind….

“WHO’S IN CHARGE HERE!”

Oh! I have to sit now! I write it down on a post-it note and put it on the refrigerator door.

Who’s in charge here??? Well...I AM.  Not that little button on the blouse, or anything that someone might say, or any memory of loss or any ache or pain.  All of these things can open that Pandora’s box but I can close it just as quickly if I realize that “I AM IN CHARGE HERE!”  And just realizing that weakens the power of those little jabs.

It’s all part of life’s journey isn’t it? Discovering who we are, we - who are each so incredibly unique that there is no one else quite like us and yet we spend a lifetime trying to figure out why we are here, what purpose do we need to fulfill during our turn on earth that is unique to us? How do we get to and then stay en pointe? How do we conquer the negative thoughts?  I take off the blouse and put it back on the hanger (with a little work it will fit just fine next week) and I slip into a more comfortable one.

Going to the fridge I look at the note again…Who’s in Charge Here?”  I open the door and pull out everything required for a healthy lunch which I make with a feeling of power and happily take my plate to the deck to be able to see the silvery light still glistening on the water in the distance as the last of the summer boats speed by. It might take some practice, this mastering of being in control of  what thoughts escape from the dreaded Pandora's box of the mind, but I’m determined not to inadvertently miss or ruin anything while I’m working on myself.  Especially not the gossamer touch of autumn that is in the air today.

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WRITING ASSIGNMENT #31 – MARRIAGE PART 2

• Describe your first home together.
• Tell of your dreams and plans and goals as newlyweds for your future together.
• Tell about the other homes that you have shared together. Where were they? What were they like, how much did they cost?
• Share how you worked together, played together, worshiped together, planned together, raised children together, vacationed together and what made your marriage work.

Uniquely You and Writing Assignment #30 Marriage Part 1

I pulled the door shut and fussed with the old key to lock up our Paris pied de terre.  Adjusting the straps onto my shoulder for my camera, my purse and the canvas shopping bag (a charming but bulky thing I had purchased at the fruit market), I slowly maneuvered my way down the ancient circular stairway…three flights down to the massive front door painted what I call "French Blue" although I’m sure the French don't call it that.  Dale was waiting patiently, holding it open for me, eager to get out and see the day awaken on the streets of Paris. 

Our goal for the day….become part of the place, experience it in an unhurried pace.  Shop at all the local markets and bring home bread and cheese, the freshest of fruit and delectable desserts from the patisserie.

Snap Snap Snap Dale was photographing an elderly man reading his newspaper on a park bench. Snap Snap Snap I focused on a still life…a gray kitten on a window ledge, the window open, a white curtain behind and a flower pot with a pink geranium just inside.  Snap Snap Snap he was photographing a store owner sweeping the stone walk in front of his store with an ancient looking broom  Snap Snap Snap I focused on the glorious arrangement of fresh baked breads on the shelves through the open door of a boulangerie.  So typical of our travels, walking side by side but seeing a different world. 

I’m reminded of the quote by Louise Brown: “Remember that what you have is unique because it’s your own special way of looking at the world.”

I’ve given those of you, who are using the weekly "writing assignments" to prepare your autobiography, a few weeks off to catch up and review but I will start another assignment today.

And if you should need a reminder of the importance of doing this (along with the fact that it’s fun) consider this quote by Spencer W. Kimball:

“Your own private journal should record the way you face up to challenges that beset you.  Do not suppose life changes so much that your experiences will not be interesting to your posterity.  Experiences of work, relations with people, and an awareness of the rightness and wrongness of actions will always be relevant.”

And at another time he further reminded us:

“You are unique, and there may be incidents in your experience that are more noble and praiseworthy in their way than those recorded in any other (person’s) life…what could you do better for your children and your children’s children than to record the story of your life, your triumphs over adversity, your recovery after a fall, your progress when all seemed black, your rejoicing when you had finally achieved? Some of what you write may be humdrum dates and places, but there will also be rich passages that will be quoted by your posterity.”

Still need more reasons to write?  Consider this:

“There may be a healing power in the pen: Psychologists say ‘writing therapy’ effectively boosts both health and mood, even among pessimistic individuals.” (Health Psychology (1998:17(1): 84-92))

I can honestly say that writing this blog has been a remarkable vehicle for helping me maneuver my way down the often slippery slopes of widowhood!

So for these reasons and any more that you can think of…including the very important one >> Well Why Not?  Jump on board and have a go at it.  You can’t make any mistakes…it’s your life!  And you are the best one to write your own life story.  Keeping in mind…

I love Dale’s photographs and stories of his life.  I love what he saw, I love seeing life through his eyes and I treasure that. But even though we shared decades walking side by side through time…I can’t just say “ditto” to his and have it be an accurate account of my life!  My unique life.

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Writing Assignment #30 – Marriage Part 1

How did you meet?

How did he (she) look? What attracted you to him(her)?

Tell about your courtship.  Where did you go? What did you do?

When did you fall in love?

"The Proposal"  Tell about it from your perspective.

"Wedding Day" Tell about it from your perspective.

Give the date of your wedding and the place (describe the features of the place)

How did you feel going to the wedding that day?

Who was there?

What did you wear?

What did he (she) wear?

Take time here to express your love to your spouse and what he or she meant to you on that day...and now.

Better Than a Hallelujah

I’m at a loss for words this morning and to those of you who know me you might consider this to be a rather rare event. Heavy sigh here. 

I’m thinking of how I go to the Lord in daily prayer and pour out my heart with my concerns and worries over the problems of life, seeking for help and guidance. I know I am free to ask and I know without question that He has helped but I’m feeling a twinge of guilt.  I would so much rather be able to spend the time painting an angelic scene to honor Him using vibrant hues of heavenly light filtering through angels’ gowns or doing some sort of incredible humanitarian work that would change the world for the better as a way to sing my praises to Him rather than pleading for help with my broken heart or answers to my health issues or the other problems that accompany my life’s journey but get in the way of accomplishing the more important "songs" of praise.  A tear comes to my eye as I wonder if He is getting weary of my pleas.

I decide to stop writing and focus instead on folding the laundry.  But it’s so very quiet and my thoughts just won’t be distracted so I turn on my iPad and go to Pandora, for some reason I click on a station I’ve never heard before and I go back to my folding….and then I hear a woman’s voice singing these words…

God loves a lullaby

In a mother's tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

I drop the warm towel that I had pulled from the dryer into the basket and listen to the rest of the words…

Better than a church bell ringing
Better than a choir singing out, singing out

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

(Better than a Hallelujah sometimes)
Better than a Hallelujah
(Better than a Hallelujah sometimes)

Coming back to the computer I search for the lyrics, it’s by Sarah Hart and Chapin Hartford and being sung by Calee Reed it's called “Better than a Hallelujah”.

I still want to do those things that will be my hallelujahs but in the meantime it’s good to realize that my sincere pleadings are not coming across as annoying as I was beginning to fear but rather to Him they are melodies.

I am grateful that I was prompted to turn on the music right when that song was playing and as I type this, the daily message blings in on my Email:

"The Lord loves every person who might hear His message, and He knows the hearts and circumstances of each one. He knows what correction, what encouragement, and what gospel truth will best help each person to choose his or her way along the path to eternal life." —Henry B. Eyring

And that reminder - that further answer today - tells me that He not only wants to hear my soul's complaint but He is aware and knows just what will help if I will listen and allow it to happen on His time....I close my eyes and whisper happily..."Hallelujah".