These Brief Bright Moments

Thou gracious God, whose mercy lends

the light of home, the smile of friends,
our gathered flock thine arms enfold
as in the peaceful days of old.

For all the blessings life has brought,
for all its sorrowing hours have taught,
for all we mourn, for all we keep,
the hands we clasp, the loved that sleep.

The noontide sunshine of the past,
these brief, bright moments fading fast,
the stars that gild our darkening years,
the twilight ray from holier spheres.

We thank thee, Father; let thy grace
our loving circle still embrace,
thy mercy shed its heavenly store,
thy peace be with us evermore.

Last Sunday dawned cold and rainy. And gorgeous.

We listened to the MoTab sing Oliver Wendell Holmes' beautiful lyrics (above) as we got ourselves and our children ready for church. Sentimental, grateful tears rained steadily from my eyes all morning. And I still forgot to wear water-proof mascara.

So I guess it's fitting that the best family picture we got on Spencer's blessing day is this blurry mess...

It was a lovely meeting. Wes was voice to a lovely blessing.

And isn't there something just unspeakably sweet about a father bringing his babe into a circle of priesthood power, pronouncing a name, and gently gifting an authorized endowment of heavenly love and blessings? Yes.

After my son received that special blessing from his father, members of our ward stood to share testimonies. Much was said about miracles.

Tears continued to rain from my eyes as I took it all in.

Blessings. Miracles. Poured down from Heaven's open windows.

During a 2 am feeding last night I happened to catch a talk Sister Dibb (President Monson's daughter) gave at BYU Idaho some weeks ago (good ol' BYU TV, what would my middle-of-the-night-mommy self do without you and BBC's Pride and Prejudice?!). She told of a time when her mother was in the hospital recovering from a serious illness. She said that as a certain doctor spoke with her and her father, painting a rather grim picture of her mother's future, President Monson interrupted him, asking something like, "Doctor, do you have faith? Do you believe in miracles? Because we do."

I wish that had been my response to the medical professional Wes and I chatted with a few years ago, who, given the circumstances of the time was surprised by our expressed desire to have more children. Unlike President Monson, I failed to capitalize on that opportunity to express my faith. But we certainly did believe in miracles then. And we certainly still do. And as I held my tiny, sleeping miracle last Sunday, as I looked at his sweet face, mascara-tinged tears raining from my eyes, my belief in miracles burned fervently.

For all the blessings life has brought,
For all its sorrowing hours have taught...

We thank thee, Father; let thy grace
our loving circle still embrace,

thy mercy shed its heavenly store,
thy peace be with us evermore.