O Remember, Remember

My thougths on Pres. Eyring's talk "O Remember, Remember"

I have taken journaling seriously since I got my first journal back in 3rd grade. You know the kind: the kind with a little key to lock it. Now that we are smiling, I really took it seriously that I was to put down my feelings. I didn’t know what else to put down, so I put down things that I wanted to know about my grandmother who had passed away before I was born. Of course at 8, I wanted to know what books she was reading, what homework she hated and what boy she had a crush on so I wrote those things down. I still have all my journals (don’t tell anyone about them yet, because I haven’t edited them) and I read them every now and then. About the time we move I pull the box out and see what shape they are in. If they fall open to an interesting time I can spend a good two or three hours captured in their pages. My journal writing took a turn for the better about the time I turned 16. Not that the antics were any better, after all I was a teen, but the words and feelings were much different. I have continued writing faithfully even today when my life is full to the max with six children, homeschooling and all the responsibilities that come with those two careers. Sometimes it is just a simple entry just once a month and often it sounds more like a travel log, but it is recording my history and now that of my family. I keep a few blogs (one with all my posts to this group) that also are a journal of sorts.
My husband is in the process of transcribing and editing his mission journals as our oldest son is now 16. He is putting them together in a book (will be using Heritage Makers to publish it) for each of the boys. He was the first of his family to go on a mission (his family found the church when he was 7) and really wished someone would have told him what a mission really is like. (That sounds odd, but it really does make sense.) Anyway, as he has been rereading his journal I hear all sorts of editorial comments as he is typing. Sometimes it is uncontrollable laughter and other times it is a sigh. Often it is “Oh, I wonder how that family is doing?”
Remembering is good for the soul. Remember the pain as well as the happiness is good for us. Remembering the sad as well as the happy help us grow and cheer each other on. But mostly remembering helps us see our progress (or lack thereof) and move forward with faith and determination to do better.
I’m thankful for the journals my fore-parents kept. The heritage and legacy they left me are something I try to strive to live worthy of daily. I’m thankful they kept a journal so that I could know of their faith and trials. I’m thankful they persevered when the chips were down. My life isn’t nearly as trying as there, and I have no need or right to complain in comparison. Reading their stories make me strive to be a better person. I truly am blessed with faithful ancestors.
They have helped me do two things that Pres. Eyring talks about.
“More than gratitude began to grow in my heart. Testimony grew.”
Reading what they wrote gives me gratitude for their trials and for mine. My testimony grows when I read how the Lord blessed them (or cursed them when they sinned). Even reading my own journals leads to these two things. Gratitude and Testimony!
Since I write my journal on the computer now (you can’t read my handwriting!) I will print out the two questions he asks at the end of the talk and make mention of them daily (or as often as I write).
1. Did God send a message that was just for me?
2. Did I see His hand in my life or the lives of my children?
And I will make sure that when my children read my journal they will know that I had (or have) a testimony of the gospel and I’m grateful to be their mother and a Child of God!