Tender Mercies

My ward has a fabulous relief society president. Her name is Sharon Steele. After Micheal died she came and visited me on a regular basis. She is one of the most sincere people I know. She has been a dear friend to me.

On the 4th of July, I was in church and we sang 'My Country Tis of Thee'. It brought tears to my eyes and uncontrollable feelings of pain. Pain of missing Micheal and also for my sweet sister who is having to endure a very difficult trial. I cried most of the rest of church. I found comfort in a woman who had lost her husband at a very young age as well.

Sharon must have seen me in the foyer, crying on Jo's shoulder. That very next day, I received an email from Sharon and this is what it said:

Dear Kimberlee,

My heart ached for you as I saw you in the hall yesterday. I was glad Jo was there for you. She has had a lot of heartache in her own life, and I can't think of a more caring person to turn to.

This morning as I wondered how I could help you, I wrote a poem and dedicated it to you. Each week I write a verse inspired by a talk in the current month's Ensign. I had read Sylvia Christensen's article last week and wanted to write a poem about it, but the words wouldn't come until I was able to put your face with them. I hope as you scroll down to the poem, you find some comfort.

You are a beautiful person Kimberlee, and I know the Savior loves you. Sometimes the choicest spirits have the greatest burdens to bear. Those trials make God's Saturday's Warriors stronger in the end, but that doesn't make the pain any less exquisite.

I know from experience that the Savior will carry our burdens when they seem too heavy for us. Many times I have to get down on my knees and plead for Him to help me get through the next day. I have a testimony of His love and ability to mend our breaking hearts. You may not know this but I have spent many Sundays in the past crying in the hall and even during meetings at church. You're not alone.

Love,

Sharon

The poem is read across, not down.

Dialogue with Christ: A Poem for Two Voices

Inspired by Sylvia Erbolato Christensen

“He Can Heal Any Wound,” July Ensign, P. 8

Lord, my heart aches. My tears fall like rain, so great is my loss. My burdens are heavy. I can’t do this anymore.

In the garden, I felt it break. I felt your pain as I carried the cross. I’m here for you, always… My promise is sure.

For Kimberlee Adams

Sharon Nauta Steele

July 5, 2010