I had two things in mind to write about this week. Let’s see if anything else comes up along the way.

 FIRST. It is not my time to die. You know how I know? Because by all accounts and purposes I feel like I should have died on the way to Vail this week. Maybe that’s a little dramatic, but here’s what happened:
We left for a meeting in Vail at 5:30 AM on Friday. We rolled up to our meeting spot in our Toyota Corolla – full tank, brand new windshield wipers, ready to caravan over with a whole bunch of elders. While we were waiting to take off, some elders came up to our car and asked us to drive one of their Subarus. Now I’m all about the Sub, and those things can definitely handle the snow, but I was hesitant to drive someone else’s car. For good reason.
As soon as we made it to the foothills, getting ready to make our way onto the pass, things started getting rough. The roads were wet. So so wet. And it was dark. So so dark. The headlights? Not great. The windshield wipers? Far worse. I literally could not see anything. There was so much mud splashing on the windshield and I just could not get it off. I feared exceedingly and prayed fervently. I guess it worked out alright, because we’re still here. And as a point of interest, our drive home took literally twice as long as it normally does. Stop and go traffic the entire way. So it was a long day. But HF took care of us.
SECOND. I have a new purpose in life.
And I think someone will probably write a mystery novel about it one day.
The other day we were at King Soopers. While looking for my debit card, I found a key in my wallet. I have literally no idea where this key came from, or what it goes to, but I think the only thing to do is to dedicate my life to finding the door that this key will open.
THIRD. (A new one cropped up) This is actually the product of an old conversation that I’ve been meaning to write about but just haven’t gotten around to.
So you know how when we talk about sin, we sometimes describe it this way: “If you feel farther away from Heavenly Father, who moved? Not Him, He will never move away from us, we’re the ones putting distance between us.”
True, and beneficial for teaching certain points. But Sister Rod and I were having a conversation about this with some members that we love, a family called the Sigafi (pural of Sigafus), and we came to the conclusion that this imagery can be detrimental. It makes us feel that if we’ve been making mistakes, we’ve been putting distance between us and Heavenly Father. Then, if we decide to turn back, we might have a long way to walk before we’re close again. But I think the truth is, even if we’re walking away from Heavenly Father, He’s still close to us. Maybe He follows us. All I know is, the very second we take a step in the right direction: i.e., towards Him, He’s right there. Like, right there. And that’s all I’ve got to say about that.
Sister Joslin

4 sisters burr