Special Sunday

For the first time ever, Makoa bore his testimony in Sacrament meeting. He insisted against my hesitations.  He was so confident about what he was going to say. When he got up to the pulpit (by himself, mind you) it went a little something like this.

“Mom, what do I say?” he asks me at the mic.

I turned beat red, and was a few rows back in the congregation so I gave him an encouraging nod and smile.

“Mom, what should I say?” he asks again.

Bishop Mulvey helped him out, and amazingly helped Makoa say the exact things he went up there to say.

“I love my family. I love Jesus… Mom, now what do I say?”

I mouthed the words “I say these things…”

“What?” he asks.

So I mouth, “In the name of Jesus Christ…”

“Amen.” he finishes.

I wrote that down in both of our journals. I love that kid.

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As I sat on Makoa’s bed tonight with his feet in my lap for me to rub, I closed my eyes and  simply listened to Cameron read the little boys “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”, I was reminded how good  my life is.

Cameron’s soothing voice put Ka’imi to sleep before the end of the story.

His soothing voice during our family prayer calmed Makoa’s earlier troubled mind, and brought the Spirit into our  home.  I am lucky. He is a good man.

Makoa asked for one song before I said goodnight. By the end of the song, his breathing was slow, deep and rhythmic  - I knew he had fallen asleep.

I count my blessings when bedtimes are ridiculously good.