[sunday will come]

Sunday Will Come
(Elder Joseph B. Worthlin, October 2006, General Conference)

Over the past 2 years, more specifically over the past year and a half, this has been one of my go to talks.  It stays in an open tab on my tablet and on my phone.  I find myself reading his words of love and peace several times a week, and sometimes several times a day.

When President Hinckley spoke at Sister Wirthlin’s funeral, he said that it is a devastating, consuming thing to lose someone you love. It gnaws at your soul.

I think of how dark that Friday was when Christ was lifted up on the cross.

On that terrible Friday the earth shook and grew dark. Frightful storms lashed at the earth.

Those evil men who sought His life rejoiced. Now that Jesus was no more, surely those who followed Him would disperse. On that day they stood triumphant.

On that day the veil of the temple was rent in twain.

Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of Jesus, were both overcome with grief and despair. The superb man they had loved and honored hung lifeless upon the cross.

On that Friday the Apostles were devastated. Jesus, their Savior—the man who had walked on water and raised the dead—was Himself at the mercy of wicked men. They watched helplessly as He was overcome by His enemies.

On that Friday the Savior of mankind was humiliated and bruised, abused and reviled.

It was a Friday filled with devastating, consuming sorrow that gnawed at the souls of those who loved and honored the Son of God.

I think that of all the days since the beginning of this world’s history, that Friday was the darkest.

But the doom of that day did not endure.

The despair did not linger because on Sunday, the resurrected Lord burst the bonds of death. He ascended from the grave and appeared gloriously triumphant as the Savior of all mankind.

And in an instant the eyes that had been filled with ever-flowing tears dried. The lips that had whispered prayers of distress and grief now filled the air with wondrous praise, for Jesus the Christ, the Son of the living God, stood before them as the firstfruits of the Resurrection, the proof that death is merely the beginning of a new and wondrous existence.

Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays.

But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come.

No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, Sunday will come. In this life or the next, Sunday will come.

Yesterday was a good day.  
A "Sunday." 
One of those days where things just felt pretty darn good.  

McKayslin had art camp in the morning.  She's loved spending her Monday mornings there all summer, creating, laughing, learning.  I had just enough time to run to the Wal-Mart to pick up the few things we needed (and perhaps a few new school supplies - shhhh...).  After art camp, we grabbed some lunch, and came home.  I worked on laundry and cleaned up a little.  

Right around 1, we heard the knockity-knock at the door.  Analeise was here!  I'm not sure who was more excited for this play time, Analeise or McKayslin!  Those two little munchkins (McKayslin playing big sister for the day and Analeise playing little sister) ran and played and jumped and colored and played dollies and painted nails and picked beans (because they were looking for more peas but there was an ant hill, ha, ha!) and watched shows and played play-doh.

I loved the giggles.  
I loved watching them play so well together.  
I loved hearing Analeise say Goosey and Uncle Wuke.
She mostly just called me You.
Ha.
Guess we know who her favorites are!  ;) 

But I really loved what happened about halfway through the visit.

The girls were tearing through the kitchen on their way to their next grand adventure, when Analeise skidded to a halt in front of the large picture of the kids I have on the kitchen desk.

She stopped, looked at the picture, looked at me, looked back at the picture and said, "Ohhhhhhh...."  I said, "That's Kenton and McKayslin."  She looked at me and back at the picture, and her tone of voice registered recognition and love as she whispered, "Kenton..." McKayslin and I just looked at each other.  The moment was quickly over as the girls then sped off to pain their nails.

President Ezra Taft Benson said: “Sometimes the veil between this life and the life beyond becomes very thin. Our loved ones who have passed on are not far from us."

Later as they were playing play-doh, making cacos for Uncle Wuke, Analeise made something else and set it aside.  I asked her who that was for.  In a very matter of fact way, she shrugged and said, "It's for Kenton."

The play date was over way too soon.  That little sweetheart has all of us wrapped around her little finger!

We ate dinner (delicious Kenton favorites of creamed peas and potatoes, steak bites, and fresh green beans - which are now McKayslin's favorites too - except the steak!).

And headed off to Smithfield to watch that biggest brother play some baseball again.
It was perfect baseball watching weather.  
And perfect company.  
The game was pretty slow.  Tied 1-1 for a while.  And then 3-3 for a while.  Tay was up to bat, bottom of the 7th, 2 outs, winning run on 2nd, with the score tied at 3.  Ha, no pressure there.  

He pounded one into the field, bringing the runner in.
The end.  

We love watching baseball.  
I can always feel Kenton close for a few minutes during each game.  

Game over we stopped for ice cream and came home.  
And we slept well again.  
I hope I don't jinx us by saying that...

Yesterday was indeed a "Sunday."  

What's interesting to me about these Sundays, is that they don't come and stay.
I don't think we'd appreciate them as much if they did. 
They come around once in a while, just like regular Sundays do.  
These days of smiles and peace and all day happy.  

And on these Sundays, Kenton is so close.
Just as close as other days, certainly, but it's a different close.  
It's an I'm proud of you guys kind of close.
 
And on these Sundays, I know he's giving us that trademark grin and a double thumbs up.

Because Sundays are family days.  
Tradition days.  
Kenton's favorite kinds of days.

Today is Tuesday.
Kenton day.
Tears are always a little closer and emotions a little tighter on Tuesdays.

We miss our boy.

We miss his hugs, his smiles, his laugh, his joy in everyday living.

We.just.miss.him.  

Until we are reunited as an eternal family, we will miss him.

Today we'll have pancakes and bacon for dinner.
Maybe even blueberry pancakes with buttermilk syrup.
And bacon.
Because it's Tuesday.

And we'll go see our boy.  

And then we'll go watch some baseball.  

Because sometimes, even Tuesdays can be Sundays.