Spiritual Experiences

This week I was reminded how blessed I am. My companion and I started to teach an investigator named Marco. He's an old man who has had polio since he was 1 year old and we sing to him every time we meet with him and he just closes his eyes and smiles. I really never thought that songs could do much but I have come to gain a testimony of them! Anyway, we were teaching Marco and explaining what happens after we die and he said that he hopes that its real because he wants to be able to run up in heaven and be with his wife forever and I seriously cried after this meeting because this man has never ran in his life and I LOVE running! I only then realized how blessed I am to have working legs. THEN we taught him again only this time we taught about the Restoration and Joseph Smith and then we shared the story of when Joseph Smith was a little boy and he had to have his leg operated on and how he walked with a limp the rest of his life. We told him that God doesn't care about your body and what it looks like, God cares about your faith and your actions and what's in your heart. We had started to tell him this and he started crying and again I came to realize just how blessed I am. We asked if he would pray and he offered one of the most beautiful prayers I have ever heard. THEN we had the opportunity to talk with a member and teach him but in the end he taught me more. It was an old man who had joined the church and I asked him if he would share his favorite scripture. He then shared scriptures in Enos and while reading he started to cry and then bore his testimony of how thankful he was to have found the gospel and how grateful he is for a loving savior. I was seriously so touched by this man because I realized in that moment that I had been born into the Gospel and that I had the opportunity to grow up with it when this man could have gone his whole life without it. Day by day I am starting to be thankful for things I never thought about. Like spoons! I am thankful for spoons so that I can eat cereal and so I don't have to use my hand!

Also I would like to share a story called

          TWO HANDS

While walking in the sand one day

I tripped and fell and while I lay

Two hands reached out to lift me high,

One hand moist, the other hand dry.

On hand was tattered, worn, and abused.

The other hand soft, smooth, and unused.

I knew not which hand to take in mine.

To lift me up and guide me through time.

For one hand would lead me back home to God,

The other away from the iron rod

Cautiously I picked the tattered, torn hand

It lifted me up and again I could stand.

I knew then I'd picked the Lord's helping hand,

For Satan would've left me there in the sand.

I wondered why his hand was so worn and abused

And then I remembered how much it was used.

Love you all!   

Hermana Partridge