I love my new calling as a Relief Society teacher. I have learned so much about myself, about the Gospel, and about my family. With each lesson that I read, I have a personal experience to go along with the lesson. This has been a great blessing to me.
I don't know much about my mother's family. For reasons that are unknown, my mother refuses to talk about anything. Records are non-existence. Literally. My mother is from a third-world country and the original records for her family were destroyed in a war. This was before computers, so there are actually no records except those that are in my mother's head. Well, that is what I thought.
Let me backtrack. I have always felt a connection to my maternal grandfather. I have had many experiences where I felt him with me. I knew it was him. When I was a child, my mother would have these feelings and she would share them with me. She knew her father was my malaikat pelindung (guardian angel) as she put it. I have known this my entire life.
Recently, I started feeling his presence more. It is undeniable. And, as the lessons in RS focused on ancestors and the Temple, I knew exactly why he has been closer to me as of late. My oldest son turns 12 before the end of the year. I know that my grandfather is ready for his ordinances, and I know that my son is the one who needs do them on his behalf. My son knows this, too. He feels it just as strongly as I do.
But even with the surety of my feelings, problems remained. I know his name. I know he died. That is all. I had nothing else. My mother thinks she knows how old she was when he died, but even that is a guess. Her family lives across the world, and their memory is just as uncertain as hers.
So I was stuck, but as each day passed and each lesson approached, the knowledge that he was waiting pressed upon me. So, I started searching. Random searches. Anything I could find. I followed promptings that led me to initially promising information, but those turned out to be nothing.
Then, last week as I sat at the computer doing another seemingly endless search through scanned documents from my mother's home country, I had a thought. "Call your parents." I don't know why, but I ignored it. I heard it again. "Call your parents." So, I did.
I called my mom. She wasn't there; my heart sank. Then my dad asked what I needed. Reluctantly, I told him that I was completing pedigree charts for my sons and even though it was a long shot, I really wanted to be able to fill in the blanks of my maternal grandparents. We talked for a bit (my dad is kind of fascinated with genealogy), and then he said, "I might be able to help."
Confused, I asked how...the records are gone, mom doesn't remember. He told me he would do some checking and get back to me. I don't know why, but I was hopeful. He said he would call me the next day.
It was afternoon before I could check my phone, and sure enough there was a message from my dad. He said he emailed me and to check my email.
When I opened my email, the message was simple.
"The Standard of Truth has been erected; no unhallowed hand can stop the work from progressing; persecutions may rage, mobs may combine, armies may assemble, calumny may defame, but the truth of God will go forth boldly, nobly, and independent, till it has penetrated every continent, visited every clime, swept every country, and sounded in every ear, till the purposes of God shall be accomplished, and the Great Jehovah shall say the work is done"