Reaching Through the Veil shows how angels are a part of our everyday lives. This blog is designed to share your experiences, stories that you find, quotes from General Authorities, and scriptures that show that angels are a part of our lives.

Thursday, January 4, 2018

When Angles Speak by Catherine Keddington Arveseth

When Angels Speak

"I put the last of my grocery cart items on the conveyor belt and nudged my cart forward. As the cashier scanned my stack of necessities, I watched the bagger swiftly fill bags and then my cart, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see another shopper had joined the line. She began unloading her cart, and without thinking, I turned for a better look. I recognized the woman immediately as a friend of my Mother’s.
I didn’t know her well. Growing up in a predominantly Mormon neighborhood, there were just a handful of families that were not LDS. Hers was one of them. But my mother had a way of making those families some of her closest friends. I remembered how much my Mom cared about this woman. I remembered going with my Mom once or twice to take dinner to her when she was not well. I remembered my Mom reminding us to be kind to her children.
Should I say hello?  The thought dangled in my mind.
She’ll never remember me. Or recognize me… It’s been over twenty years since we’ve seen each other.
The cashier announced the total of my purchase, so I inserted my card for payment and tried to dismiss the idea.
But the idea didn’t leave.
Maybe I should say something.
And then I felt it. A touch on my shoulder. My right shoulder. As if my mother were standing next to me, her hand gently brushing against my clothing.
Then I heard her voice. There was no mistaking it.
“You need to say hello to her,” she said. “You need to tell her that I love her.”
The cashier handed me my receipt and I hesitated, knowing it was now or never.
Reluctantly, I turned back to the woman behind me and spoke her name. Before I could make my excuse that she would never remember me, her hand was on my arm and she was saying my own name.
“Catherine. I was so sorry to hear about your Mom. It was so sad.” There was genuine sorrow in her eyes and in her words.
“Thank you,” I said. “We really miss her.”
“She was a great lady. She never judged me. There was never any judgement. No judgement at all.”
“I know,” I said. “She was good at that. I actually wondered if I should say something to you and when I hesitated, it was like she tapped me on the shoulder and told me to say hello, because she wanted me to tell you how much she loves you.”
Her face softened and so did her smile.
“She was kind to me. And you and your brother did more for us than you know.”
There was not time to say much more. I asked about her children. We swapped brief details and then again in the parking lot, we talked for a couple more minutes, about her family, how everyone was doing. It was a happy conversation and the connection was easy, unrestrained, and seemed to fill us both.
We said goodbye and I finished putting my groceries into the back of my car then climbed in and started the ignition. A glowing warmth and gratitude settled around me.
If I could have seen my Mother’s spirit with my very eyes, in all its shimmering essence, I would not have known with more surety that she was sitting next to me in the passenger seat than I did in that moment. So I spoke out loud.
“I did it Mom. I did what you asked me to do. I was your voice.”
And then I cried. And together we made the drive home.
Days later I was telling my friend Kara about the experience. How my mother’s words had felt so similar to the Holy Ghost when He speaks to me. The same kind of knowing and fire and peace. All at once. And yet it wasn’t the Holy Ghost. It was my Mother. She was the messenger.
Kara pulled out her Book of Mormon and reminded me of this verse in 2 Nephi 32. I’ve read it dozens of times. So many times. And never before had it made so much sense. One phrase rang out with perfect clarity.
“Angels speak by the power of the Holy Ghost.”
Since my Mother passed away, I’d been trying to figure out this new place of communication with her. I was trying to differentiate between her voice and the voice of the Spirit. And now I understood.
By the power of the Holy Ghost, I could discern her voice. Her message. And through the Holy Ghost, she was given means to communicate. This is the pattern angels use. This is how they speak.
They do speak. And when they do, similar to the Holy Ghost, they have a message for us. Instruction, illumination, a truth to confirm, a warning, a witness, and sometimes, simple but matchless comfort.

Kirt Harmon
In this season of angels, when we speak of angelic annunciations and angels filling the skies over shepherd’s fields – this season in which we hang angels on Christmas trees, place their art on our walls, I can no longer think of them as distant floating figures. The word angel has personal, even tangible meaning to me now. They are family. Joseph F. Smith taught us this. Loved ones who care about us. And they are thick around us. Speaking to us, walking next to us, teaching us.
President Ezra Taft Benson said,
“Visitors, seen and unseen, from the world beyond, are often close to us… There is no veil to the Lord.” (Teachings of Ezra Taft Benson, p.35)
No veil to the Lord. How often do we consider His perspective? How he views this mingling of worlds?
I made my scripture study this month about angels. In almost precise verbiage, here are their capabilites.
They can stand by us, come to us, go before us, speak to us in dreams, speak by the word of the Lord, speak by the power of the Holy Ghost, talk with God, talk with us, carry us, tell us not to fear, testify, bear us up, have charge over us, minister to us after great temptation, stay with us through the night.
As I write these words, a new death is fresh in our family. Last night my Dad’s brother, Richard, passed away. Cancer commandeered his body at a tragically rapid rate in recent weeks, and his going was sooner than expected.
Sweet Richard. Always kind. Always gentle. How my Dad loved this comrade from his childhood. His oldest brother.
I wept for my Dad. He has experienced so much loss this year.
But then I thought of those who had likely come to carry Richard home. The Grandmother I adore, the devoted Grandfather I never met, Richard’s daughter Fiona, and my own Mother. Surely she would have been there. And once again, I felt that spark of her feet touching the earth, the sensation of air moving as she passed by.
I didn’t hear her speak, but I knew she was near."

Saturday, December 30, 2017

Miracles After Sandy Hook: How an LDS Family Has Felt Heaven's Presence After Their Daughter's Murder

Miracles After Sandy Hook: How an LDS Family Has Felt Heaven's Presence After Their Daughter's Murder
byDanielle B. Wagner | Dec. 14, 2017

Alissa and Robbie Parker remember the first time they realized their daughter Emilie had become an unseen angel to others. A letter arrived from New Mexico from the mother of Emilie’s good friend, Arianna. Arianna had been devastated by Emilie’s death, becoming quiet and withdrawn. Then one day, Arianna’s parents heard her speaking animatedly to someone while she played alone in the backyard. She seemed happy, excited. When her parents asked Arianna who she was speaking with, she replied, “It’s Emilie. She is here with me. Can you feel her?” The Parkers have learned the power of those words for themselves as they have grown closer to Emilie and their Heavenly Father, feeling their love and influence from beyond the veil.
On December 14, 2012, Adam Lanza methodically pulled a green utility vest over his black shirt, black fatigues, and black canvas belt and slid black fingerless gloves over his emaciated knuckles. He grabbed a pair of sunglasses and his mother’s Bushmaster semi-automatic assault rifle along with magazines and two handguns. Before leaving his house in Newtown, Connecticut, the 20-year-old crept into his mother’s bedroom, shooting her four times in the head with a .22 caliber Savage rifle. Then, with the assault rifle and pistols in hand, he stole his mother’s 2010 Honda Civic and drove three miles to the school he had attended just 10 years earlier—Sandy Hook Elementary.
Once at the door, Lanza used the assault rifle to shoot his way through the plate glass window and into the building. It was just after 9:30 a.m. Sandy Hook principal Dawn Lafferty Hochsprung, vice principal Natalie Hammond, and school psychologist Mary Sherlach rushed into the hallway to investigate the noise. Lanza turned his high-powered rifle on the three women, killing Hochsprung and Sherlach and injuring Hammond. Hammond lay motionless on the ground even as additional gunfire struck her,  waiting until Lanza disappeared before dragging herself into a nearby room, using her own body to barricade the door.
At 9:35:39 a.m., the police received a terrifying call reporting a shooter roaming the halls of Sandy Hook Elementary. At 9:38:15 a.m., the first police officers arrived at Sandy Hook, knowing nothing more than the first few disjointed reports they received over the phone. Inside the school, Lanza made his way into two classrooms of first graders. In classroom 8, Lanza murdered substitute teacher Lauren Rousseau, behavioral therapist Rachel D’Avino (who had only worked at the school one week), and more than a dozen 6 and 7-year-old children who were huddled together, hiding. Only one girl survived.
In classroom 10, Lanza fatally shot first-grade teacher Victoria Leigh Soto when she stepped in his path, attempting to shield her students with her body. Lanza opened fire on the children hidden around the room, reloading and continuing even after his gun jammed. In that classroom, Lanza killed five students and two adults. The body of Anne Marie Murphy, a teacher’s aide who worked with special needs students, was later found covering the body of a 6-year-old boy she had attempted to save from the attack. After his murderous rampage, Lanza picked up his Glock and fired one round into the hallway before putting the pistol to his head and pulling the trigger.
In just under four and a half minutes, the deadliest elementary or secondary school shooting in U.S. history had ended. In all, Lanza fired 154 shots from his rifle and two from his Glock, killing 20 children and six school employees in a heinous and sickening act of violence.
The Unthinkable
Alissa Parker awakened to two blue eyes staring at her, just inches from her own. Her 6-year-old, Emilie, had crawled into bed, taking her husband, Robbie’s, place as he headed into work as a physician’s assistant at Danbury Hospital. The two went to Emilie’s room where she put on a fashion show before picking out her ensemble— a pink shirt with a ruffled pink skirt and pink leggings. It was a crisp winter morning as Alissa dropped Emilie off at the bus stop. Not long after, she received a phone call. An automated voice told her there had been a shooting at her daughter’s school. With shaking hands, Alissa raced to Sandy Hook Elementary.
Evacuated children congregated around the firehouse, reuniting with their families. Alissa couldn’t find Emilie anywhere. While Robbie was trapped at the hospital, which had been placed on lockdown, Alissa waited for hours to learn any new information, her heart filling with sickening fear that increased by the moment.
In the afternoon, an officer announced the unthinkable: 20 children had been murdered. But none of the names of the victims were released. Robbie arrived shortly after, and the two were together at 3:30 p.m. when Connecticut Governor Dan Malloy arrived to confirm the worst fears of every parent still waiting to be reunited with their son or daughter: all of their children had died.
Signs of Love
Confusion, shock, overwhelming emptiness, loss—so many emotions broke over the Parkers in that moment. When Alissa and Robbie reached their car, wondering how they would tell their two other little girls, Madeline and Samantha, that their sister was not returning home, Robbie suggested they  pray together.
The prayer was simple but poignant. They needed God’s help, love, and compassion because they were now broken and lost. Immediately, a peace and love flooded Alissa and Robbie, reassuring them that God would not abandon them. “Looking back, that was such a vital, pivotal time for us,” Robbie says. “Even though it lasted just a fleeting second, [there was] this warmth and this comfort and this understanding of ‘I’m here for you,’ and it was gone. Then going home and having to talk to the girls and having all these tough things happen, I knew I had that one moment that I could look back on, that I  could carry with me.”
During this time of darkness, thousands reached out to the Parkers, demonstrating that goodness and light still existed in a world they felt was shattered and dim.
“The first thing everyone wanted to do was to help, to serve, to do something,” Nancy Hintze, Alissa’s visiting teacher, recalls.
During this time when media vans still flooded Newtown, triggering ongoing memories of the tragedy, Hintze quietly delivered meals from ward members to the Parker home, the stake silently covered the expenses for the funeral, and the ward created three Christmas trees filled with angels donated by those who wanted to show their love for the Parkers.
“It was amazing to see how the gospel of Jesus Christ really acts in your life. It got away from all the repetitive motion that we can find in the Church and [moved to] people bearing one another’s burdens and the love that the gospel brings into your life,” Robbie says. “That was one of the few times in my life where I thought, ‘This is what the gospel is. . . . This is really what living a Christlike life means in the flesh.’ It was such a beautiful thing.”
More small miracles followed. Days after the shooting, a truck pulled in front of the Parker home and a small family business owner went to work, filling the Parker’s heating-oil tank with $500 of oil. Bins of gifts, paintings, letters, and other donations from complete strangers filled a warehouse set aside for the families of the Sandy Hook victims.
One of the most moving displays of love came unexpectedly while Emilie’s body was being transported to Utah for her burial. “I hated the idea of Emilie being alone or being treated like freight or cargo,” Robbie remembers. His and Alissa’s anxiety was soothed, however, when they arrived at the funeral home and learned that Emilie hadn’t been alone during the journey. “When we approached the entrance [to the funeral home], it was lined with flowers and stuffed animals and cards,” Alissa remembers.
The Parkers learned the gifts had all arrived with Emilie. The crews from U.S. Airways who helped transport Emilie’s body left small gifts and cards behind, letting the family know she was cared for every step of the way. Later, the Parkers learned from a friend who had been onboard the plane that flew Emilie to Salt Lake City that the pilot had asked everyone to remain seated and silent as they unloaded the body of a victim from Sandy Hook. Nearly 100 airline employees lined the tarmac, paying respect as the tiny casket was unloaded and carried away.
“That was incredibly powerful to me. It was such a beautiful moment of respect that they showed for what happened to my daughter and the life that she had,” Alissa says. “I had been dreading the idea of her being shipped, but they changed that narrative for me. They made it instead of something really cold and dark to be something incredibly beautiful and touching.”

Pain and Peace

The funeral. The first Christmas without Emilie. Returning home. All were difficult transitions for the Parkers that were coupled with a brutal sense of finality.
“There is this part about being a member of the Church that makes us feel like when someone dies, we automatically have to be okay and comfortable with the fact that we know where they are and we understand the plan of salvation and therefore the rest should be easier,” Alissa shares. But she knows firsthand that is not always the case.
“After Emilie passed away, it was very hard for me to attend church. I didn’t want to sit in sacrament meeting surrounded by whole families that reminded me mine was broken. I didn’t want to hear the silver linings; they didn’t seem to help,” Alissa says. But one day, Madeline’s Primary teacher, Terri  Burley, whose son had been hit and killed by a drunk driver while he was serving a mission in Argentina, offered a piece of counsel she and her husband personally received from Elder Holland during their  journey to forgive the man who killed their son: “Elder Holland spoke tenderly about our broken hearts. He said, ‘It’s okay to be sad. A piece of your heart is missing. It’s missing because it belongs to your son, and he holds it until you are reunited with him.’”
Turley reminded the Parkers to “keep a tender and sensitive heart toward the Lord because He stands ready and willing to give all that He has. Bitterness tends to shut the conduit between heaven and earth.”
In order to give Robbie and Alissa time to heal emotionally and spiritually, Turley watched Madeline and Samantha one day a week for a year—an experience she says blessed her family’s life as much as it did the Parkers.
“It was the sweetest experience to have those little angels in my home,” Turley says. “My son Jeffrey has special needs. . . . He had changed after our other son passed away. It was like a little park or a little flame [had been] extinguished. Those little girls brought it back.”
She continues, sharing a particularly special moment she had with Madeline: “Madeline was sitting on my lap in Primary, and she was crying [about Emilie] and laid her little head on my shoulder. I was comforting her, and I whispered in her ear, ‘ I have a son up in heaven, too. I wonder if they are friends.’ Madeline stopped. She turned her body and looked straight at my face and said, ‘Sister Turley, don’t you worry, because your son is going to be resurrected and you will get to have him back, so don’t be sad.’ I thought, ‘That is the sweetest thing I have ever heard.’ Here I am trying to comfort her, and her first thought is to comfort me.”
Quickly, Turley realized that her interaction with the Parkers was healing her as well. She says, “I was becoming more and more whole myself.”

An Uncomfortable Prompting

In the months following Emilie’s death, Alissa ached to feel her daughter near. Searching for that moment, Alissa and Robbie attended the temple. But while in the celestial room, Alissa received inspiration she had not anticipated.
“My whole life I’ve heard of all these amazing experiences of people at the temple and feeling connected to those on the other side and I thought, ‘This is where I’m going to be able to feel closest to Emilie,’” Alissa recalls. “I’m anticipating this moment, waiting to feel her, and only thinking about her, and instead I hear a voice in my head that says, ‘You need to meet with the shooter’s father.’” But how could she meet with the father of the man who had murdered her daughter? A man who had killed 20 children in cold blood? The thought was strange and uncomfortable, but it persisted.
Once they reached the car, Alissa told Robbie they needed to meet with Adam Lanza’s father, Peter.  arrangements were made, and Alissa and Robbie prepared the message they wanted to share: that Peter should release his son’s medical information to help others understand what led to the shooting.
During the meeting, the Parkers quickly learned that Peter Lanza, who had been estranged from his son for years, had already released his son’s medical records. He, too, longed to know what happened to his son.
The discussion “opened up this floodgate, and he just started to tell us everything he was trying to make sense of,” Alissa recalls. The Parkers learned of Adam Lanza’s constant battle with mental illness, of his struggles with Asperger’s, anxiety, OCD, anorexia, and possibly even schizophrenia.
“For me, that conversation was the first time where I had a chink in my armor broken off about looking at [Adam] as a person and seeing him as somebody,” Robbie says. “That was the first time I gained any sort of sympathy or empathy, which was really weird to feel because I felt very comfortable with the anger I had toward him.”
Alissa adds, “It was a real turning point for me as far as seeing him through different eyes. Up to that point, he had just been this monster to me. And that changed just a little, in that moment. Heavenly Father helped me see the man who murdered my daughter through His eyes. For me, forgiveness isn’t just this one moment where you decide that you’re done and you’ve forgiven someone and it’s over. It’s a process; it’s these small moments that lead you to find that forgiveness. That’s what it was for me. This was the first moment where I can identify that softening, that change.”
Feeling Forgiveness
Forgiveness and peace, however, still didn’t come easily or immediately for the Parkers. “Hating Adam Lanza felt good. But I could see now that hate and anger were limiting me from moving forward,” Alissa writes in her new book, An Unseen Angel.
“The more I read, researched, and learned everything I could about the shooter and his history, the more questions surfaced to which I would never find answers. . . .  I finally came to the conclusion that I would never know. I would never fathom what was in his heart. But God could. God knew how to hold him accountable. God knew how to judge him. That burden was not for me to carry; rather, it was for me to lay down at God’s feet. . . . As I made this decision, a burden so deep and so heavy it had nearly crushed me was physically lifted from me. My heart burned with a joy so powerful it brought me to tears.”
As their sadness, anger, and hatred gradually faded, Robbie and Alissa were able to feel Emilie’s presence near. “My heart needed to heal in order to feel her again,” Alissa says. “It wasn’t until my heart had softened that those moments where I could have her be with me became available. They were small, short, beautiful, intensely euphoric moments that I wanted to hold onto with all of my might, but yet, somehow it would probably overwhelm me.”
Alissa continues, “I mostly feel Emilie around her sisters. It’s just such a sweet thing to think that she is still their big sister and loves them and is with them.” The first time Alissa felt Emilie was Easter morning. “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing” was playing on the stereo and Alissa was overwhelmed with thoughts of what was missing from their family celebration: Emilie’s Easter basket, her excitement over a new fancy dress, her smile, her hugs.
But as Madeline and Samantha twirled to the music, Alissa was enveloped by a sense of warmth, peace, and comfort. Alissa writes:
“I knew that Emilie was there dancing with her sisters as they had done so many times before. In that moment, I was blessed to finally feel all the happiness of those memories again, all the joy and the laughter without the pain of loss. Emilie was giving me the chance to see that our family would always be connected, through time and eternity. . . . For that moment, we were all there as a family, tied together eternally by the redeeming love of Jesus Christ. The feeling faded quickly, but even after it left, I knew I had been changed forever, lit with a new light of hope.”
Finding God
Despite the darkness and pain that came from losing Emilie, the Parkers have found their relationship with their Heavenly Father growing stronger and more complete as they learn to rely on His grace and forgiveness, understanding His love with new depth. “I remember when I was at church sitting in sacrament meeting, I kept thinking that if only I could have known what would happen that day, I would never have sent Emilie to school,” Robbie recalls. “I would have protected her, made sure nothing happened to her. But then, I felt this very distinct thought from Heavenly Father, saying: ‘I knew what they would do to my Son.’ And it just hit me. Heavenly Father sent His Son to this earth, fully knowing what they would do to Him. He watched as His Son was crucified and endured so much. As a father, that struck me, bringing a deeper sense of what the Atonement means and how much our Heavenly Father loves His Son and all of us.”
“Sometimes people want to ask ‘Where is God in all of this?’” Hintze says. “It [is] very easy to see and dwell and live in the darkness. . . . [However,] if you want to be in the light, you have to look for it, you have to work for it, you have to be diligent, but it is always there, and that is where we will find God. It is a choice we have to make to seek it out. Alissa and Robbie have made that choice over and over again.”
Safe and Sound
Since Emilie’s passing, the Parkers have used their personal experience to become advocates for school safety and art therapy.
Along with Michele Gay, another mother who lost her daughter during the Sandy Hook shooting, Alissa established Safe and Sound Schools, a nonprofit that seeks to empower communities to build safer schools. In addition to providing customizable programs, podcasts, materials, and resources, Safe and Sound Schools helps create school safety councils, allowing students the chance to improve their school’s safety with innovative solutions.
In addition, the Parkers have established a nonprofit focusing on supporting local art communities and helping children who have suffered trauma, neglect, or abuse through art therapy. The organization, Art Connection, was inspired by Emilie, who was a prolific artist and used pictures to record her feelings and bring light and joy to others.

“[This experience] has changed us. It has made us better, and it has inspired us to do things that we otherwise wouldn’t have done,” Robbie says. He recalls a message one woman shared with him. “She said, ‘Isn’t it amazing how God won’t waste an opportunity?’ For anyone else who is going through whatever it is that they’re going through, if they can look at it with that same mentality, that this is an opportunity that shouldn’t be wasted. As hard and as difficult as it might be, it shouldn’t be wasted because God’s not going to waste it.”

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Returned Missionary Miraculously Survives Vicious Knife Attack: "There Were Angels There Helping"

by | Oct. 01, 2015

Editor’s Note: The following story contains mature subject matter and descriptions of violence. Reader discretion is advised.
The night of Tuesday, September 22, was like any other.
It was half past 11:00 in Salt Lake City, where Breann (“Bre”) Lasley had recently moved into a duplex with her younger sister, Kayli. Bre and Kayli stayed up talking for a while (Kayli had just returned from a date), then retired to their rooms. After brushing her teeth, Bre played some calming music on her computer to end the day. But exactly 38 seconds into Paul Cardall’s arrangement of “Joseph Smith’s First Prayer,” she slammed her laptop shut. The music stopped.
A man was at her window.
What Bre didn’t know at the time was that eight days prior, Robert Richard Berger had been released from the Utah State Prison after 14 years of incarceration. She was also unaware that he’d just been chased away from her neighbor’s house after an unsuccessful break-in attempt.
What she did know was that he was on his way into her bedroom, and that he was too strong for her to keep out.
As Berger forced his way in, Bre wasn’t sure if the whole thing was a joke. After all, she and her sister had just moved in a few days earlier, and they didn’t know many people in the neighborhood. Maybe this was somebody’s sick idea of a prank.
But the violence with which Berger handled Bre quickly dispelled any possibility of a joke. She began to scream.
Before long, Kayli ran upstairs to her sister’s room, where she began striking Berger in an attempt to loosen his grip on her sister. The two girls, fueled by rage and adrenaline, defended one another against his increasingly violent attack.
The struggle made its way to the top of the stairs, where Berger viciously kicked Kayli. She flew to the bottom of the staircase without touching a single step on the way down, and her head went through the wall. Doctors would later tell her she was lucky to be alive.
Berger attempted to push Bre down the stairs as well, but she maintained a grip on him, so they went down together. At the bottom of the stairwell, Bre frantically called the police, but Berger hung up her phone. As he and Bre fought, Kayli called the police. Both sisters frantically shouted their address until Berger began choking Kayli.
Bre tackled Berger into the laundry room, but he got on top of her and began beating her even more intensely than before. That’s when Kayli’s attention was drawn to a metal rack hanging on the wall. She ripped it down and struck Berger several times in the back with it.
That’s when Bre saw the knife.
A few years prior to this night, Bre had serious medical problems. Blood clots had severely damaged her liver, gallbladder, and several other internal organs. Her doctor prescribed a blood thinner to stop the clotting, which worked—but a couple of months ago, he decided to take her off it unexpectedly.
If Bre had still been taking the blood thinner, this night would have been her last.
Upon seeing the knife, Bre convinced Kayli to run outside and get help. As she sprinted up the stairs, one thought consumed her older sister’s mind:
“This is the last time I’ll ever see her.”
Berger stabbed Bre in the lower abdomen. He stabbed her again in the right thigh. Again, in the upper abdomen. He began violently and repeatedly jabbing and slashing haphazardly. Doctors would later be mystified at Bre’s close shave with death. None of the stab wounds cut through any organs or major arteries, although many came within a few centimeters.
Meanwhile, Kayli frantically ran the sidewalks, screaming for help. Luckily, a police officer was only a couple doors down, investigating Berger’s earlier break-in. She told the officer that her sister was fighting a man inside their house, and that her assailant had a knife.
As the officer ran toward the duplex, Berger was threatening to go upstairs and kill Kayli. A wounded and exhausted Bre tried to bargain for her sister’s life, offering Berger her car, computer, phone, and cash. In a fit of rage, Berger forced her back to the ground, pinned down her arms and said, “I’m going to kill you.”
In 2009 and 2010, Bre served an LDS mission in Florianopolis, Brazil. As missionaries, she and her companion would often go door-to-door and ask people what they would say to the Savior if He were there. One woman had not been able to walk in four years, and together, she and the sister missionaries prayed for the desires of her heart. The next time Sister Lasley and her companion visited this woman, she could walk again.
Sitting there on the couch with her companion, Sister Lasley had the most powerful spiritual experience of her life. In that moment, she felt as though the Savior himself was sitting beside her. The memory of this stayed with her for years, but that feeling would not repeat itself until she needed it most.
Berger raised the knife.
Bre braced for impact, but none came. Berger’s blow had missed. He tried again but somehow could not stab her. After six or seven failed attempts, he became increasingly angry and confused. “Why isn’t this working?!” he screamed. “Why the [expletive] isn’t this working?!”
Bre watched as the knife came inches from her stomach, her chest, her head. Horror quickly turned to peace as she once again felt the protecting presence of her Savior, just as she had years before on her mission.
She would later say it was as if a shield covered her entire body.
"I know, without a question, that we were totally protected, that there were angels there helping us," Bre said in a Deseret News interview.
Since this night, Bre has pored over the words of Elder L. Whitney Clayton. His most recent conference address, “Choose to Believe,” has inspired her.
Elder Clayton’s talk tells the story of a young girl who miraculously walked away from a plane crash that killed her entire family. After the crash, the scared, injured, and freezing girl faced a choice—did she stay at the wreckage, where she was perhaps more assured and comfortable, or go off in search of help?
She abandoned the crash and found light. “What I just went through was traumatic, frightening, and difficult,” said Bre. “But with the Savior’s help, I know I can leave the wreck.”
Berger’s attempts on Bre’s life momentarily ceased when a heavy pair of boots walked down the stairs. The police officer introduced himself and ordered Berger to drop his weapon.
Instead, Berger put the knife to Bre’s throat. In that moment, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for this man who was making a terrible choice. The officer issued another warning, but Berger didn’t relent. After the third and final warning, he moved to cut her throat. The officer discharged one bullet into Berger’s head, which was inches away from Bre’s. She gasped in relief and exhaustion as her attacker fell to the floor.
On Bre’s way to the emergency room, she was filled with an overwhelming desire to pray.
Now, Bre and Kayli are out of the hospital and living with their parents. After their harrowing experience, they are uncertain as to whether they want to return to their apartment. But for the time being, the two sisters are doing well recovering physically and relying on the love and strength of their family and their Savior to overcome the emotional scars from that dark night.

Friday, March 4, 2016

How Angels Can Help Us More


How Angels Can Help Us More in Our Lives

One of our hymns teaches us that “angels above us are silent notes taking” of each one of our actions. I’m sure that is true. And when we keep our covenants, they are doing so much more.
The Prophet Joseph Smith declared that if we “live up to [our] privilege,” the angels will not be able to be restrained from being our associates.
Our “privilege” includes our covenants.
Our covenants are a privilege.
Therefore, as we live up to our covenants, the angels will not be able to be restrained from being our associates. We could also say it this way: As we keep our covenants, we can ask for angels to help us. Literally!
It was during Elder Jeffrey R. Holland’s April 2010 general conference address that I first learned this truth. Elder Holland was giving counsel on how to guard against temptation. The one question I most needed to have answered at that time in my life, and which I took to that general conference, was not related to that subject, but part of Elder Holland’s prescription for success was exactly what I needed to hear.
He said, “Ask for angels to help you.”
He said it with such clarity, and yet he said it in a manner that implied this was something we all knew! But for me, it was an entirely new principle.
I wanted to call out, “Wait! Wait! What? You mean I could have been asking for angels to help me all this time?”
Without intending to sound too dramatic, I can say with all candor that Elder Holland’s six words changed my life: “Ask for angels to help you.”
That counsel changed my prayers. It changed my understanding of the very real help from heaven that is always available to us as we keep our covenants. I started to ask for assistance from those on the other side of the veil from that moment on!
Now, I’m not talking about praying to fantasy angels with wings to magically fairy-dust our problems away. I’m not talking about praying to angels. I’m talking about praying to our Heavenly Father, in the name of Jesus Christ, for those on the other side to be “dispatched” (Elder Holland’s word) to assist us. Perhaps a departed loved one could be sent to help you with whatever you need.
Can you imagine the effort it took those angels who pushed from the rear of handcarts as they helped pioneers over the steep, snowy, windy, freezing, jagged terrain of Rocky Ridge? If angels can manage that, they can certainly help you and me over our present-day Rocky Ridges!
One faithful covenant-keeping woman learned how real angels are and how ready they are to help when we are in despair. Her life had been turned upside down and her heart broken. She had recently learned that her husband had for many years chosen to betray her and break his covenants with God and with her. One night all alone with her thoughts, she sank into deep despair. She was without hope and could see no way to move ahead with her life. Darkness and dead ends were all she could see. Thoughts of ending her life seized hold of her mind.
After several hours of seriously contemplating her death, she suddenly felt prompted to walk to her basement. As she passed a bookshelf, her eyes were drawn to something she hadn’t seen in decades, something that had been missing for years: her favorite photograph of herself as a young mother with her children. Seeing their trusting, loving faces looking up to her for guidance brought her to her sense. She knew in that instant that she could never take her own life. She could never leave her children—who were now grown up with children of their own—in that manner. She marveled at how the Lord knew exactly the photograph that would help her in an instant to choose to live. She was amazed at the precise timing when the Lord sent His angels to find the framed, formerly lost photograph and place it exactly where she would see it. Exactly when she needed to see it.
We know the Lord gets His work done with the help of His angels! And who are His angels?
President Joseph F. Smith declared: “When messengers are sent to minister to the inhabitants of this earth, they are not strangers, but from the ranks of our kindred [and] friends . . . . In like manner, our fathers and mothers, brothers, sisters, and friends who have passed away from this earth, having been faithful, and worthy to enjoy these rights and privileges, may have a mission given them to visit their relatives and friends upon the earth again, bringing from the divine Presence messages of love, of warning, of reproof and instruction to those whom they had learned to love in the flesh.”
So, could you use a little more help in your life? If so, keep your covenants with more exactness than you ever have before! And then ask for angels (a.k.a. your ancestors and other loved ones) to help you with whatever you need. Or ask for them to be dispatched to help those you love!
Lead image: "Angels Among Us" by Annie Henrie. Available at Deseret Book stores and

Friday, February 19, 2016

George Q. Cannon Quote

Now, this is the truth. We humble people; we who feel ourselves sometimes so worthless, so good‑for‑nothing; we are not so worthless as we think. There is not one of us but what God’s love has been expended upon. There is not one of us that He has not cared for and caressed. There is not one of us that He has not desired to save, and that He has not devised means to save. There is not one of us that He has not given His angels charge concerning. We may be insignificant and contemptible in our own eyes, and in the eyes of others, but the truth remains that we are the children of God, and that He has actually given His angels‑‑invisible beings of power and might‑‑charge concerning us, and they watch over us and have us in their keeping…Those who otherwise might be thought to be contemptible and unworthy of notice, Jesus says be careful about offending them, for “their angels do always behold the face of my Father” (Matt. 18:10). We are in their charge. They watch over us, and are, to a certain extent, doubtless, responsible for the watch care that they exercise over us, just as we are responsible for any duty that is assigned us (Collected Discourses, Vol.2, George Q. Cannon, November, 1890).