Sat by the ivory sail.
We met. We fell in love.
We could talk for ever, and laugh at nothing.
and everything. Something and anything, then nothing again.
He became my best friend instantly. Not because I am something special, but because he is. I bet everyone feels like he is their best friend. Because he probably is. Our relationship is what I have always hoped for, and he was more then worth the wait. He was the whole reason for everything. I am the luckiest girl, and I really feel that way.
You would too, if he loved you.
These days, not a day goes by I don't thank my Father in Heaven, deeply thank him, for sending me such a special person to be my husband. I have fallen in and out of love a lot. But I have never wanted to choose someone the way I have wanted to choose him.
Here is what I love; after I chose him, and he chose me, we only have fallen in love more. Yes, yes, I know we have been together a short time. But growth is relative. I will stand by that. Now I will.
Best part of it all?
He feels it too.
[vimeo http://vimeo.com/41892926]
I am getting married to the best person I know.
I am going to marry Blake Royall. For the rest of ever.
He who conquered death.
"We will all rise from the grave. And on that day my father will embrace my mother. On that day I will once again hold in my arms my beloved Elisa. Because of the life and eternal sacrifice of the Savior of the world, we will be reunited with those we have cherished."- Elder Wirthlin
She walked on the plane, with red eyes, and a wet face. She immediately asked for tissues, and I immediately wanted to hug her. Of course, I gave her the box. Before I knew what this perfect stranger was upset about, I wanted to tell her, "My dear sister, Sunday will come, I promise".
Have you ever read the talk Sunday will come, by Elder Joseph Wirthlin? This talk has taken me through some rough times.
You know the times.
The times 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."
I used to have bits of this talk hanging on my mirror, and it always gave me hope and renewed my faith. Over Easter, I reread it, and I felt the spirit testify to me that Jesus Christ lives, and that we too will be resurrected.
I asked her if there was anything I could do for her (how pathetic of an offer when all I can do is give her food and water). She told me that she just found out her husband had died, and was on her way to see him. It took every part of me not to sit down, and hold her, and tell her how sorry I am.
To tell her, "Sunday will come".
*Photograph: The Louvre, Paris.