Sunlight

It’s been over a year, I know. Maybe that matters, but right now it doesn’t because today is a sunny day.

It’s not fool’s sunny where the sun is out but the cold bites and hisses. The wind is a perfect balance between chilly and warm, and it blows just enough to ruffle your hair and wrinkle your clothes. You fill your lungs all the way and exhale with a smile. It’s a day where you paint and write and sing and think happily of the future because now is perfect.

And yet, I am sick. The kind that makes me stay home from church and sleep for most of the day. But there is soft light illuminating the bedroom, and there are birds singing to each other in the trees.

Today is a Sunny Day.

In my religion, we believe in what we call priesthood blessings. I received one from my husband and a friend of ours. Oil is used to anoint the head of the afflicted, they place their hands on your head, and then you receive a personal message from your Heavenly Father through one of them. It’s beautiful and personal, especially when you trust the person administering it, and when they trust you. While I try to keep these experiences to myself and my journal, I must tell you the first thing that came out of my husband’s mouth.

“Madelyn,” he said, “today, your Heavenly Father has given you spring.”

As I type that, my heart grows. Life is hard when you’re trying to figure it out. It’s hard when you don’t always feel good enough, or you feel like you’ve done too much. It’s hard when things don’t work out the way you expected; it’s hard when midterms are nigh, when tragedies befall you, and when the clouds just don’t move out of the sky.

He said something else that keeps pressing upon my mind. He said, “Make today a holy day, in your own special way.”

Sundays are always meant to be a holy day for me. It’s been a part of my life for so long that I don’t know what else to do with Sundays. It can be hard to always keep them holy, though. Sometimes I feel like there’s a checklist I have to adhere to, even though I know on a deeper level that that isn’t what Heavenly Father wants, nor is it what He meant when He asked us to keep His day holy.

Today, I have listened to a conference talk and played games with my husband. We have chatted and laughed, kissed and gone for a walk. We went outside and gazed over our little worn Virginia town. We felt that God had planted us in a home, and we can do nothing but thank Him for it.

I think that, today, Heavenly Father has shown me that the Sabbath doesn’t have to be the same thing every week, and although there are things we shouldn’t do, He wants us to be more concerned with what we can do. The gospel is what brings the sunlight, and as long as we are seeking to find His light, we are keeping His day holy.

And today, I have felt that sunlight.

Although my throat is still aching and my body easily tired, my heart is fuller than it has been in months. Today I feel sunlight in my bones and wind in my chest. Today the sky is brilliant and gentle, the mountains wise and watching. Today they hold adventure and future and present. Today I am here, and today is amazing.

Today I am aware that my Heavenly Father loves me. What a simple phrase to say. I am aware of a Man above who smiles down on me as I gaze at His creations. He created these mountains for me, you know. He knew I would love them. He covered them with green so my husband would be in awe of them, too. He made them for us, and He made them for us together.

I don’t know what the point of me telling you this is. I don’t know what storms are raging in your heart, and I don’t know what winter is in your mind, but I know that spring will come. And maybe you don’t believe me because I, to you, might seem to have a perfect life and goodness gracious do I, but not the kind of perfect where everything is smooth and easy. Not the kind of perfect where I am happy everyday, where my house is always clean, and where my husband doesn’t get into car accidents. You and I are people. We experience winter, and we often experience it together.

But after winter there is always spring, and today, God gave me spring.

He will give you yours too.

Godspeed.