Two summers ago my family and I took our very first real family vacation. We packed up and drove down to southern Utah to spend a week playing in the mountains. Our fist stop was Panguitch to introduce John to a small town. He was blown away when I said the tour would be 5 minutes long and then floored to find out it really was that fast. We camped about an hour away and it was a pretty rough night. Elizabeth did not like the idea of sleeping in a hot tent, she wanted her bed and let us both know it. John gave up on sleeping around 5:00 am. I was ready to roll over and go back to sleep too, but I thought it would be nice to watch the sun rise together. We got some warm clothes on and built a fire, then we sat down together and just talked, enjoying each other's company. It was nice. Really nice. I watched the mountains, ready for brilliant colors and breathtaking beauty. I waited for hours to see the sunrise and it never came. The sun came up and slowly the world around me filled with light, but there was no brilliant, colorful, breathtaking moment.
Fast forward two years later to our second family vacation. This time we packed up the car and drove out to Nauvoo. I have a thing for small towns. I have heard for years that going Carthage Jail is a powerful spiritual experience. I have heard countless stories about people who have gone for the first time and been moved to tears as soon as the walk into the jail. I wanted that so I really looked forward to going to Carthage Jail. We got there and knowing how important this stop was to me John took the kids and let me have time without any distractions. I was so ready. I walked in and I waited. Nothing. I sat down disappointed. Why didn't I get a powerful spiritual confirmation? Why didn't I feel a single thing? As I searched my feeling I realized there was something there, but it was not powerful or brilliant. It was small, it was sweet, and it was easy to miss unless I looked for it.
My life has been like the sunrise over the mountains and like walking into that little jail room. My life has not had any brilliant flashes of knowledge, there has never been a powerful confirmation of my faith. But just like the sunrise, my life slowly filled with light until I could see clearly. Just like that jail cell, when I take a look at me feelings I a have a very sweet sense of peace and feel the love of my Father in Heaven.
I wanted to share this because I think too often we think we need a powerful, brilliant experience to confirm our faith. It is not so. Experiences like that are rare. Most people have a sunrise experience where you cannot put your finger on the exact time you knew for sure the gospel was true, but the light of Christ has filled your life and helped you to see clearly. Do not discount your feelings and experiences because they are not brilliant, sudden, powerful moments. Your quiet peaceful confirmations are powerful in their own way, just like the tide, or a gentle rain. They are real, and they are beautiful.
