Monday, September 28, 2015

Quotes from General Conference - Women's Broadcast

“There is enough that doesn’t go right in life, so anyone can work themselves into a puddle of pessimism and a mess of melancholy. But I know people who, even when things don’t work out, focus on the wonders and miracles of life. …
“… God didn’t design us to be sad. He created us to have joy! So if we trust Him, He will help us to notice the good, bright, hopeful things of life. And sure enough, the world will become brighter. No, it doesn’t happen instantly, but honestly, how many good things do? …
“… Now is part of eternity. It doesn’t only begin after we die! Faith and hope will open your eyes to the happiness that is placed before you now. …
“… Everything … in the gospel—all the shoulds and the musts and the thou shalts—lead to love. When we love God, we want to serve Him. We want to be like Him. When we love our neighbors, we stop thinking so much about our own problems and help others to solve theirs.” …
As you walk along your own bright path of discipleship, I pray that faith will fortify every footstep along your way; that hope will open your eyes to the glories Heavenly Father has in store for you; and that love for God and all His children will fill your hearts.

Sent from my heart

I Am the Gardner

Hello friends and family :) Happy Monday.

I don't have much to write this week except share a story with all of you. In the General Women's Meeting of General Conference this weekend, President Uchtdorf shared a story with all of us, and asked us to apply it personally so that the Spirit could tell us what it's meaning and application was for us. Here's the story I've picked for this week:

I was living up in Canada. I had purchased a farm. It was run-down. I went out one morning and saw a currant bush. It had grown up over six feet (two meters) high. It was going all to wood. There were no blossoms and no currants. I was raised on a fruit farm in Salt Lake before we went to Canada, and I knew what ought to happen to that currant bush. So I got some pruning shears and clipped it back until there was nothing left but stumps. It was just coming daylight, and I thought I saw on top of each of these little stumps what appeared to be a tear, and I thought the currant bush was crying. I was kind of simpleminded (and I haven’t entirely gotten over it), and I looked at it and smiled and said, “What are you crying about?” You know, I thought I heard that currant bush say this:
“How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as big as the shade tree and the fruit tree that are inside the fence, and now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me because I didn’t make what I should have made. How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.”
That’s what I thought I heard the currant bush say, and I thought it so much that I answered. I said, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and someday, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’”
Years passed, and I found myself in England. I was in command of a cavalry unit in the Canadian army. I held the rank of field officer in the British Canadian army. I was proud of my position. And there was an opportunity for me to become a general. I had taken all the examinations. I had the seniority. The one man between me and the office of general in the British army became a casualty, and I received a telegram from London. It said: “Be in my office tomorrow morning at 10:00,” signed by General Turner.
I went up to London. I walked smartly into the office of the general, and I saluted him smartly, and he gave me the same kind of a salute a senior officer usually gives—a sort of “Get out of the way, worm!” He said, “Sit down, Brown.” Then he said, “I’m sorry I cannot make the appointment. You are entitled to it. You have passed all the examinations. You have the seniority. You’ve been a good officer, but I can’t make the appointment. You are to return to Canada and become a training officer and a transport officer.” That for which I had been hoping and praying for 10 years suddenly slipped out of my fingers.
Then he went into the other room to answer the telephone, and on his desk, I saw my personal history sheet. Right across the bottom of it was written, “THIS MAN IS A MORMON.” We were not very well liked in those days. When I saw that, I knew why I had not been appointed. He came back and said, “That’s all, Brown.” I saluted him again, but not quite as smartly, and went out.
I got on the train and started back to my town, 120 miles (190 kilometers) away, with a broken heart, with bitterness in my soul. And every click of the wheels on the rails seemed to say, “You are a failure.” When I got to my tent, I was so bitter that I threw my cap on the cot. I clenched my fists, and I shook them at heaven. I said, “How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could do to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?” I was as bitter as gall.
And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, “I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.” The bitterness went out of my soul, and I fell on my knees by the cot to ask forgiveness for my ungratefulness and my bitterness. While kneeling there I heard a song being sung in an adjoining tent. A number of Mormon boys met regularly every Tuesday night. I usually met with them. We would sit on the floor and have Mutual. As I was kneeling there, praying for forgiveness, I heard their singing:
But if, by a still, small voice he calls
To paths that I do not know,
I’ll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in thine:
I’ll go where you want me to go.
To be honest, my mission has been extremely difficult for various reasons that I never expected, and I think that's true with each of our lives, as well. But I know He is the Gardner. I know that as we go where He wants us to go, we will be who He wants us to be. And it will be so much father than we ever could have gone and so much better than we could have been on our own. 

1 Nephi 11:17 And I said unto him: I know that he loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things.

Love you all, 
Sister Abram ❤️

(I grabbed the wrong tag this day and didn't realize it till that night. Oops!) 
Sent from my heart

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Enduring and Prayer

Hello everyone! 

I wrote out a long email and it got deleted. Now I am crunched on time so I will cut to the chase. 

Enduring to the end is a principle that we know we must obey. We have to just keep enduring. BUT in D&C 121, we learn that we have to endure well. We must endure well through our trials, and not just grumpily pass through them. They are wonderful blessings and opportunities for us to grow closer to our Savior. 

Principle #2: prayer is powerful 

I have wanted something very specific recently, but I have been afraid to ask for it because I wanted to always ask what was in line with the will of he Lord. Then, on exchanges, I found this in the Bible Dictionary: 

"As soon as we learn the true relationship in which we stand toward God (namely, God is our Father, and we are His children), then at once prayer becomes natural and instinctive on our part (Matt. 7:7–11). Many of the so-called difficulties about prayer arise from forgetting this relationship. Prayer is the act by which the will of the Father and the will of the child are brought into correspondence with each other. The object of prayer is not to change the will of God but to secure for ourselves and for others blessings that God is already willing to grant but that are made conditional on our asking for them. Blessings require some work or effort on our part before we can obtain them. Prayer is a form of work and is an appointed means for obtaining the highest of all blessings." 

Don't be afraid to pray to your Father! He truly is your Father and He has so much in store for you, just waiting. You are His child, and as you remember that, you come to understand that when we kneel in prayer, it is opening a beautiful communication between parent and child. He wants to bless us, and sometimes He is just waiting for us to open the door. 

I will have a lot more to write about prayer next week, so stay tuned :) 

Also this week I was told that I look and sound like I am from Colombia, so there ya go :) 

Con todo mi amor, 

Hermana Abram ❤️

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

"My faith is in Jesus Christ and is not dependent on outcomes."

Hello friends and family!

Let me start by telling you how much I love being a missionary. It's
really fun, and it is worth every sacrifice you have to make. I have
grown so much closer to my Savior than I ever thought was possible,
and I recognize His hand in my life so abundantly.

This week the word "miracles" was brought up a lot and I got thinking
about what that word could mean. I think miracles are so abundant
around us, but we never notice them, partly because the whole point of
a miracle is that it's not expected. But I think a miracle isn't
always splitting the Red Sea or someone rising from the dead. I think
a miracle is that someone decides to follow Christ and be baptized. I
think a miracle is something that happens that once seemed impossible.

Sometimes bad things happen. A lot of times bad things happen. But why
do we lose faith in our Savior? Why do we let our faith be conditional
when His sacrifice for us was infinite?

My mission is nothing that I expected it to be. It's so hard but every day I grow closer to my Savior. It's challenging in a way I never expected, but I would never change it. And it's the same with life.  It's really hard, and at times unbearable. But why let your faith be
conditional when He can unconditionally heal you?

I love being a missionary. I love this gospel and it's our way back home. Our Savior loves us, and I promise you that the hardest of challenges are always blessings because they always bring you closer to Him if you allow them to.

I love you all very much. I pray for you, and I will continue to do so!

Con mucho amor,

Hermana Abram