O Death, where is thy sting?

O grave, where is thy victory? (1 Cor. 15:55). But there is a resurrection, therefore the grave hath no victory, and the sting of death is swallowed up in Christ. He is the light and the life of the world; yeah a light that is endless, that can never be darkened...(Mosiah 16:8,9).

I doubt that there are more hopeful words to be found anywhere. I cannot begin to express how deeply grateful I am for the greatest gift of all: the gift of hope. The Greeks have a beautiful Easter tradition. On Saturday night, shortly before Easter Sunday, everyone goes to Church with a special Easter candle. Everyone waits for midnight, and at midnight, the priest is lighting the candles of those around him with the "Holy Light" (especially flown in from Israel). Everyone passes on their flame, until all candles are lit. Then you take your candle home, and burn a little cross into your door frame. The candle lighting is symbolic for the light of Christ that came into the world on Easter when he was resurrected. I loved standing on the streets of Greece around Midnight, waiting for the "light" of Christ to come, and light up a world in darkness.

As I look around me and see how fragile and hard life can be, and is on many people, when I ponder all the hardships and heartaches that can befall me and my little family, and that maybe have already befallen family members and friends, when I see how dark life can be, I am so endlessly grateful for the light the atonement gives. How wonderful that I can change, that anything can change, or be changed. How wonderful that death has been overcome. How comforting that no suffering and no separation is final and permanent. It gives me such immense hope to just know that this is real, and that there is always hope. I truly rejoice in thinking of Christ and his sacrifice for human kind.

I particularly embrace it more now that I have become a mother. I have these visions of family life, where I sit happily with my children, reading out loud books together, or dancing together to music, or singing Christmas songs, cuddling in bed in the mornings, playing at the ocean, cooking a meal together, or just getting messy while painting. I see us having fun, doing and creating things together, having long and meaningful conversations, and sometimes just crying together, or simply cleaning up together. I see things I want for my family, hopes I have for the future, and then...reality comes crashing down. I see how my little failures each day may detract from creating the home and life I want for my family. I see my own weaknesses sometimes (or probably rather often) be the greatest stumbling block to all my aspirations. But not only is there me, there is also my husband and Sophia (and future children). What will they choose? Who will they be? What if my dreams are not my children's dreams? Will I understand them? Will I be able to help them be who they want to be and who they can be (and should be?)? How will I do that? And how will I know what I need to do? How can I teach them to love their Savior above all, to never lose hope, to work hard, but to also enjoy life, to not worry about the rest of the world but only their own thoughts and Heavenly Father, to be brave and responsible, to be sensitive and caring, giving and compassionate, to have a serving heart, a desire to learn, to be honest and upright...how do I teach them all this? How can I be a good mother? How can I have Heaven on Earth in my little home?

I don't know for sure...but I love to think that all my mistakes can be made right, and that all potential future heart ache can be healed, and that my husband and my children can be mine forever, and that if only I keep trying, and keep listening to that still small voice, and trust in my Savior, I can find Heaven, right here at home, little by little, step by step...