Jesus is a people watcher
 
If His mortality were today, He’d probably spend time on park benches or at airport terminals. 
 
Back then He watched the treasury. 
 
And Jesus sat over against the treasury, and beheld how the people cast money into the treasury: and many that were rich cast in much.
 
And there came a certain poor widow, and she threw in two mites, which make a farthing.
 
Jesus watched her.
 
And he called unto him his disciples, and saith unto them, Verily I say unto you, That this poor widow hath cast more in, than all they which have cast into the treasury:
 
Jesus noticed her.
 
For all they did cast in of their abundance; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her living. (Mark 12:41-44)
 
Jesus loved her.
 
And now we remember her.
 
All that she had.
 
Hank gave me two rocks,  
 
two dandelions, 
 
and a necklace made of fruit loops and white yarn.
 
I smiled so big it made my cheeks hurt.
 
It was all that He had.
 
The two rocks sit in my nightstand drawer.
 
A picture of the two dandelions in a small jar of water hangs in my office.
 
I wore the fruit loop necklace all day.
 
With each compliment I proudly shared,
 
“Hank made this for me”.
 
These things are beautiful.
 
And I’ll always remember them.
 
Because Hank gives all that he has.
 
And his goodness is tangible.
 
In the rocks.
 
The dandelions.
 
The fruit loops.
 
All that he had.
 
Sometimes at the end of the day, I am tired. 
 
I find comfort in the people-watcher, Jesus.
 
He watches.
 
Notices.
 
Loves.
 
Remembers.
 
The dishes and the texts. 
 
The “I love you’s” and the prayers. 
 
The study, the teaching, the trying.
 
All of it. 
 
All that she had. 
 
I wish I knew her name. 
 
The widow.
 
But in the same breath,
 
I am glad she was willing to go without. 
 
Because then she is me. 
 
She is you. 
 
And He watches.
 
Sometimes I am tired in the giving. 
 
Sometimes it feels like no one is watching, and my offerings are meager. 
 
But there’s One who sees.
 
One who remembers. 
 
I wonder if she saw Him as He watched. 
 
If she knew. 
 
Did she look around? 
 
Did she have to convince her fingers? 
 
She gave all that she had.
 
I wonder if Jesus has a nightstand.
 
I bet two mites sit in His nightstand drawer.
​
That would make me happy.

Ask,
and it shall be given unto you;
seek,
and ye shall find;
knock,
and it shall be opened unto you. (3 Nephi 14:7-8)

There are no asterisks next to this verse.

No exceptions or qualifiers.

The Savior didn’t put an expiration date at the end.

So why is it so hard to believe sometimes?

I think it’s because of the space.

Ask ----> Given
Seek ----> Find
Knock ----> Opened

The part between the asking and giving and seeking and finding and knocking and opening.

Sometimes what we ask for is nowhere to be found.

Sometimes we have been seeking, but we still can’t find it.

Sometimes we have knocked, but the door is still closed.

It even feels locked sometimes.

So what do we do?

How do you trust in a timeless promise from the Lord in that space?

On April 20th, 2018 Jake and I hopped in the car to go to Disneyland.

We were waiting for news on fulltime jobs we were both really hoping for.

We would be notified by email, and we decided it would be fun to celebrate in Disneyland.

Or figure out new life goals in Disneyland.

I held both of our phones, one in each hand, and checked excessively for email notifications while Jake droved a borrowed Honda Fit on the freeway near Primm, Nevada.

Our phones buzzed and two emails popped up, side by side.

We got off the Primm exit and pulled into a gas station as I quickly opened the emails and compared them.

We were both hired.

Our lives changed.

Tears came for me.

Jake laughed!

We took pictures and called family.

It was the perfect day.

Although it was just the two of us at this point, this was the day I started to worry about the future.

We were not pregnant.

Kids were not even really on our mind at that point.

But as I sent the email back responding that I accepted the position, I wondered how long I would do it.

When I had children, would I stay home?

Would I keep working?

What was I supposed to do?

How would I know the right choice?

I took my question to the Lord.

I asked Him.

And nothing happened.

Over the next three years I studied, prayed, worried, and counseled.

I tried so hard to figure it out, but nothing came.

I took it with me on a sticky note to General Conference and other church meetings.

I studied the scriptures and asked people I trusted.

Fast forward a few months later and I was pregnant.

Now it was not just me asking this question.

Everyone seemed to want to know.

But I still did not know what to do.

Where were the answers?

Those open doors He promised?

I know I was knocking.

Towards the end of my pregnancy, I talked with HR about maternity leave benefits. Part of the paperwork asked me to write down a tentative return date if I was planning to return to work.

Without a second thought I checked the box that I would return and put the date down.

The answer to my question was so simple.

Yes.

You’ll go back to work.

Recently I have looked back on that experience, those questions.

Those years.

Why make me wait so long?

The answer was so simple.

The Lord could have given it to me so easily.

I know He could have shared it at the gas station in Primm, Nevada.

He could have told me after that in one of those meetings or scripture studies or priesthood blessings or prayers.

I know He loves me most and knows me best.

So why the space?

Because He loves me most and knows me best.

And He had much more than just a “yes” for me.

I don’t know all the answers.

But in the space, I found empathy.

I was slower to judge.

Kinder.

I listened to Him better.

I looked to Him more.

And when I received my answer, I had no doubt that it was from God.

His hand in my decision has carried me through the difficult balance of life.

I know I am doing His will for me and for my family right now.

But even more important than the answer,

Someone was revealed to me.

Jesus.

The One who fills in every gap.

The One who is with us in the space.

Revelation is not just about receiving answers to questions we ask.

It’s about seeing more of Jesus Christ in our lives.

In the space.

And I see Him better now.
​
He makes me happy.

A student came to see me a few weeks ago.

She asked about Jake.

About Hank.

I showed her a video Jake sent me of Hank saying,

“Love you mom”.

My eyes watered just watching.

When it was over, she said,

“Wow. What’s that like?”

I wasn’t sure what to say.

It isn’t something I’ve been able to put into words yet.

But I think it’s like catching rainbows.

Jake still remembers the first time he saw a rainbow.

Just after a storm he saw the bowed colors in the sky and pointed them out to his parents.

“Do you know what’s at the end of those?” they asked.

Jake didn’t know.

“Gold!” they said.

Jake could not understand why they were just sitting at home when there was gold to be found at the end of the rainbow!

So, they hopped in the car, and they drove to find it.

Jake said they searched and searched.

He stretched his seatbelt out as far as he could to look over the middle consul to see out of the windshield.

Jake chose the direction they took.

His dad took every right and left turn Jake indicated with little pointing fingers.

It looked like it was just right there,

but they could never quite reach it.

Eventually the emerging sun burned away the colors, but Jake didn’t mind.

He said they laughed and smiled while they drove, and it was one of his favorite days.

Catching rainbows.

A few nights ago, Hank and I were playing on the living room couch.

The decorative glass in the front door cast tiny rainbows through the living room.

The sun was just in the right place.

I could see one on Hank’s shirt, so I pointed it out to him.

“Rainbow,” he repeated.

The awe in his voice was sweet.

So, we tried to catch some.

We crouched down close to the front door, catching the rainbows left on the walls.

Hank laughed and smiled and showed Jake when he got home.

It was one of my favorite days.

Wow.

What’s that like?

Like catching rainbows.
​
And I couldn’t be happier. 

I haven’t always understood the early apostles’ response to the Savior’s death and resurrection. 

Jesus warned them. 

He taught them. 

He told them He would die. 

And He assured them that He would rise again. 

Every miracle pointed to the infinite nature of His ministry and atonement.

Yet, the apostles seemed surprised at His death and even astonished at His resurrection. 

I didn’t understand. 

How did they miss it? Miss Him? 

Didn’t they know Him? 

Walk with Him?

Heal with Him?

Trust Him?

But death is hard. 

And resurrection had never been done before. 

I think the Savior knew they would not understand. 

Not at first. 

He faced that a lot in His mortal life. 

Misunderstanding. 

So what could He do? 

How could He help? 

When words failed and promises were forgotten, the Savior washed feet. 

When Jake was in the middle of treatment he couldn’t shower alone. I sat on the edge of the bed listening and talking to make sure he didn’t get light headed or fall on the slippery tile. 

At the beginning I had to help. 

Some of the most sacred experiences of my life were washing Jake’s feet as he stood in the shower. 

He couldn’t reach them. 

Cancer made even the mundane painful. 

And in the midst of our difficulty, I didn’t know what else I could do. 

I didn’t always understand. 

So I washed his feet. 

With His final mortal day before Birthright responsibility and the Will of the Father pushed Jesus to the edges of Eternity, Jesus gathered His apostles together, 

and one-by-one,

washed their feet. 

Some disagreed, feeling that they should be washing the feet of the Master. 

But He insisted.

Something about washing their feet made Him part of them. 

Even after He died. 

And while they waited for His resurrection. 

So what do you do when they do not understand? 

When words fail and promises are forgotten. 

How could you help? 

You wash feet. 

Every evening a little one and a half year old that looks like me with all of Jake’s colors insists on “bath time”. 

He lets me wash off the remnants of the day, 

dirt, bubble soap, dinner, and more. 

And then he lets me wash his feet. 

I do not always understand. 

Sometimes, despite the promises and the warnings and the words, I still miss things as Jesus works in my life and in the world. 

But I find when I am washing feet, He is part of me. 

And I start to understand. 

And I feel understood. 

And I am happy.

When Jesus came to Earth, He brought heaven.

Everything and everyone He touched became heaven.

Because He was here.

He taught heaven.

People who loved Him learned it.

Jesus said,

When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory:

And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats:

And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left.

Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: (Matthew 25:31-34)

So what’s the difference?

What’s heaven like?

Who are the sheep?

The goats?

Jesus explained,

For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:

Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.

Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?

When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?

Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. (Matthew 25:35-40)

Done it unto me.

The difference.

Heaven.

It’s Charity.

Kindness.

How we treat other people.

When I was growing up, I had mixed feelings about parent teacher conferences.

I was a good student, and I tried hard in school, but somehow the meetings still made me nervous.

I remember one specific parent teacher conference my dad came with me.

My sister had one on the same night, so my mom went with her.

It was a divide and conquer type of night.

My dad sat next to me in the tiny chairs in my elementary school classroom, and we talked with my third or fourth grade teacher.

I was excited for him to see my latest art project, hear about how good I was on my green recorder, see the great score I got on my last math test, and to hear about all the books I had read so far.

My teacher went through all of those things with him.

He oohed and aahed at all the right times.

At the end of the conference however, he surprised me.

My teacher asked if he had any questions.

I started to stand, thinking it was time to go.

“Yes, actually” he said.

I sat down and looked up at him.

“It sounds like Maddie is doing great in school,” he said,

“but I would like to know, Is she kind?”

Is she kind.

My teacher was surprised.

So was I.

Was she kind?

In that moment, my teacher was able to share that I had been kind to my classmates.

My dad beamed at that.

As we walked back to the car, I had a little skip in my step.

I also had a firm realization of what was really important to my dad.

As cool as the test scores and art projects were, he wanted me to be kind.

I don’t know exactly what judgement day will be like.

But I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s a lot like that parent teacher conference.

I’m sure we’ll be excited to show Him things-

maybe talents, accomplishments, education, a marriage, a great career, a beautiful home or family.

Our Heavenly Father will ooh and aah at all the right times.

But at the end I think He’ll ask,

“But were you kind?”

I hope with all of my heart that in that moment my answer will be,

“Yes.”

And I think He’ll be happy.

Maybe He’ll beam.

And I’ll have a skip in my step.

Because it’s not about me, but how I make others feel.

That’s what makes Him happy.
​
Me too.

I squeezed a little toothpaste on my toothbrush last night taking care to wipe any excess off the tube and carefully twisted the lid back on before replacing it in the bathroom drawer.

That’s how I know I love Jake Topham.

He makes me different.

Better.

Not just in the tiny toothpaste ways but in ways that matter.

He makes me brave.

I love being Sister Topham.

I love being Hank’s mom.

But nothing is so sweet or so sacred as being Jake’s sweetheart.

He’s my best friend.

My soft place to land.

My sounding board.

My cheerleader.

My tech support.

My financial advisor.

My therapist.

My favorite story.

My laundry specialist.

My mechanic.

My secretary.

My example.

My first kiss.

My comic relief.

My personal chef.

My vacuum extraordinaire.

My teacher.

My favorite smile.

My interior designer.

My true love.

My hand to hold.

All the best parts of me.

He’s proof that miracles happen.

They follow him around

Everywhere he goes.

And I get to watch

Right there with him.

We’re partners.

And nothing could possibly make me happier than he already has.

So I’ll try to keep the toothpaste tube clean, but I know he’ll love me, even when I forget.

Happy 26th Jakey T. I’ll never get tired of writing about you.

Sometimes I wonder what the Lord is preparing me for. 

Things stand out to me in the scriptures and in my life and I wonder when I'll need them. 

Sometimes I see the whole picture in a few minutes of studying. 

Other times the lessons learned and the knowledge gained stay with me a little longer, ready for when I do need them. 

Whether I need the stories, the attributes, the truths in the next 30 minutes or 30 years, I'm glad I have them. 

I'm glad they came. 

When Jake and I were first married we lived on Cedar City Main Street. 

It was the perfect place for us. 

I still remember what Jake's car sounded like pulling in the driveway and what the front door sounded like when he opened it. 

We watched for cars and ran across the street hand-in-hand  for treats at the gas station hundreds of times. 

We loved it there. 

Even apart from Jake's sweet company, the house was special. 

It was my Great Grandma Murray's home. 

She and her brother Raymond had moved to a care center and she agreed to let Jake and I stay there. 

If walls could talk. 

I know a little of what these would say. 

My mom visited them weekly to do their hair. 

She bought special hairspray just for Grandma Murray. 

I smell it sometimes and it reminds me of her. 

Whenever I think of Grandma Murray and Uncle Raymond, I think- "long-suffering". 

A Christlike attribute the two lived beautifully. 

Raymond experienced an injury causing brain damage at birth. 

In addition to being his friend and protector in his younger years, she cared for him in their adulthood as well. 

Her father left when they were young and she lost both her mother and her husband much too soon. 

Loie Murray never complained though.

She lived an inconvenient life but whenever I came to see her, she seemed to love it anyway. 

She took care of Raymond for at least 42 years. 

The pure love, patience, and long-suffering I saw in that little house with those little old siblings changed me. 

I remember them and I think of Him. 

In each standard work the Savior's long-suffering" is made mention. 

He was patient despite troubles, especially those caused by others. 

Long-suffering. 

Maybe long-suffering is putting the same toys away, picking up food off the floor, and matching tiny socks. 

Maybe it's trying again despite inadequacies. 

Maybe it's sending a text even if there's no reply. 

Maybe it's going. 

Maybe it's staying. 

Maybe it's inconvenience. 

But maybe it's salvation. 

The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance. (2 Peter 3:9)

​And account that the long-suffering of our Lord is salvation. (2 Peter 3:15)

Salvation. 

Isn't that sweet? 

Salvation in the Suffering. 

Salvation is the Suffering. 

And Jesus is there too. 

​That makes me happy.