My comfort and joy.

Today my 6 year old son randomly flipped through the hymn book and started quietly singing "I am a Child of God" during a talk in sacrament meeting. He is blissfully unaware of the goings-on in the world right now. Normally I would tell him to be quiet; that it wasn't time for singing. Today I let it slide.

That was, until he started singing louder interpretations of songs he didn't know! Love that little man, and I am so thankful for him as well as his siblings. Counting my big little blessings tonight. They embody joy (among other things) on a daily basis.

On my fire wife blog, I wrote today about how my firefighter husband emotionally processes trauma. A huge part of that coping mechanism is faith in the plan of salvation. He stands at the door as people of all ages pass through to the other side of the veil. He sees this transition happen. Being grounded in his faith is certainly a blessing in his chosen career! It's a job that brings to the forefront just how precious the doctrine of eternal progression is.

Knowing that there is more to life than the events of this week comforts me, too.

LDS Church to help first responders

As the wife of a firefighter, I appreciate that the church is making a concerted effort to help the families of those who send their spouse out to help others. I can't imagine being in that situation, alone with my four young children in barely liveable conditions while my husband is on duty -- probably working more days than normal to help with the destruction and continuing emergencies.

I would be at a complete loss. And I would be alone when many others would not have to have their spouse go in to work.

"Rockaway, an area home to many first responders, was particularly hard-hit. About 450 volunteers worked to clear debris in that area, and they plan to focus future efforts on 105 homes of first responders.

President Calderwood said it was especially difficult to see first responders and their families so deeply affected by the storm. He asked one firefighter what damage his home had, and the man was too choked up to reply. He told the firefighter, “We’ll take care of it.”

I am so proud of my church family for doing this!

Tap tap tap.... this thing on?

It's almost midnight, the children are sleeping, my husband is on duty, and for some reason, this day full of an exhausting number of snack makings and diaper changes and trips up the stairs has not caused me to collapse. Not yet, anyway. I've got something on my mind, and now that I can actually hear my mind, I am listening.

You see, my life is blessed. Incredibly blessed. More blessings are crammed into one day than can be fully appreciated. To help me more deeply appreciate and remember the spiritual happenings going on about me every day, I'm starting this space. Because I will forget. I have forgotten so many answers to prayer already. Those answers deserve to be remembered.

I rarely talk about spirituality on my other blog. I just don't feel comfortable sharing these interactions with God there. I guess I feel... protective of the sanctity of my personal spiritual journey. That part of my life hangs back and is a wallflower while the other happenings of life take the stage.

I am a wallflower at church, too. I sit in the back of the chapel every Sunday. I like it back there. I can observe. I can contemplate. And my children can walk out to get drinks without disturbing half of the ward. It works for all involved, especially since I may or may not be late on occasion and it's easiest to sneak in at the back.

I may be waaaay back there, but that doesn't mean I'm not paying attention. Or, at least, trying to. You'd be surprised how many epiphanies I've had while simultaneously telling a little one to please stop peeling the crayons.

But some of those epiphanies are dear to me, and I don't want them to be forgotten. Heaven knows there are times in my life when I could use a little reminder of how blessed my life is. Very blessed -- if for no other reason than that Heavenly Father hears and answers prayers. My prayers. In a way that let's me know that he is listening to every word that I, Katie, am telling him in the middle of the night while everyone else is doing the sensible sleep thing.

Even when crap hits the fan, he is still there, listening and answering. And because of that, I am blessed. We all are.