Last Thursday evening, we went to dinner at my "dad's" house -- which is not his any more.
Or do I call it my house?
Because it was mine---for many, many years.
Not a room is the same now, tho it still is the same house.
And I still feel comfortable there, strangely, and in a different way.
I don't come away feeling sad.
Maybe wistful would be a better word.
There is sadness there, but also a healing beauty of friendship and continuation.
It was a lovely place for my family.
We grew there.
Our memories are there.
We were shaped there.
And now it will be a lovely house for another family---a sacred place for them, too.
And they are beautiful people, kind and good, with darling young children.
I am happy about that.
In any case, Bryant asked Benji to say the blessing on the food for dinner, and I found myself smiling as I heard what he had to say.
We stood in the kitchen, and he gave thanks.
For everything that God has given us.
For the gospel.
And then, he asked a blessing on the food.
But my favorite thing that he said, that left me grinning?
"We're thankful that we have prophets now-a-days."
I love this.
I'm thankful we have prophets now-a-days too.