Up, Up, and Away

I have just taken Nathan to the airport, saying farewell for two weeks.


We find it incredibly fascinating that this life of working across the country from each other had such a reprieve during such hard months. He never had to leave me after mom died, and was home for each miscarriage, and was home long enough to help me get ready for fostering. These are deep and serious tender mercies, and miracles to us. We hold it sacred, and do not take it lightly.

Heavenly Father is good to us, and cares for us well, even when – especially when – life is so very hard, opposition rages its ugly head against us, and when circumstances of mortality are so hard and painful.

The hard things are not evidence against God or His care for us.

It’s the opposite: the hard things reveal how very much He loves us, and how very hard He works to care for us well while we are in the mortal environment that is so very hard and painful.

In this, we are happy and at peace, safe in the love which covers us and surrounds us.

It is our first Father’s Day.

If we had not had that very first miscarriage, I would be eight months pregnant by now. That would have been far more difficult to send Nathan away for two weeks.

Last year was my first Father’s Day since my own father died, and it was so very hard. I had to pray in sacrament meeting, and cried all the way through.

I didn’t know it was my last Father’s Day with my mother, and now am glad we spent the day together celebrating her father and mine. It was a good day.

We have been to the temple since then, my brother and I and our families, and the grief for my father is easier since then, because the temple changes everything.

It was a week after that temple trip that mom was killed.

Now here we are, six months later, and it is Father’s Day.

And I am happy instead of sad, even though there are sad things.

And I have a husband, who is the father of our children, who is my righteous hero valiant warrior priesthood man (a phrase that is only one word in Hebrew).

And so again on Father’s Day, we say goodbye.

Except this is an exciting goodbye, because he is flying to do a musical, however that is done, and will be working with his composer and professional actors for two whole weeks.

It will make his creative spirit soar.

It is the best gift he could have for Father’s Day, and I am so proud of him.

And the love I feel for him is a tangible fire in my bones.

It is fire because it is the stuff of Spirit, and that makes time and geography irrelevant.

It is a taste, just a taste, of the sealing power of the temple.

That is why our tears are not tears of mourning, but tears of gratitude.

About Emily

I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints since 2009. I serve as a Chaplain, and work as a counselor. I got bilateral cochlear implants in 2010, but will always love sign language. I choose books over television, and organics over processed. Nothing is as close to flying as ballroom dancing - except maybe running, when in the solo mood. I would rather be outside than anywhere else, especially at the river riding my bike or kayaking. PhD in Marriage and Family Therapy, and currently doing a post-doc in Jewish Studies and an MDiv in Pastoral Counseling. The best thing about Emily World is that it's always an adventure, even if (not so) grammatically precise. The only thing better than writing is being married to a writer. Nathan Christensen and I were married in the Oklahoma City temple on 13 October 2012, and have since fostered more than eighty-five children. We have adopted the six who stayed, and are totally and completely and helplessly in love with our family. Nathan writes musical theater, including "Broadcast" (a musical history of the radio) and an adaption of Lois Lowry's "The Giver". He served his mission in South Korea, has taught song-writing in New York City public schools, and worked as a theater critic for a Tucson newspaper. This is not an official Web site of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Comments are closed.