This has been a month of profound spiritual experiences.  Also we have suddenly been gifted with an Indian summer, to make up for some of the grey weather we had in June and July.  I have been home most of the time since returning from Oxford and the Crime Writers’ Convention there, which was probably as good as usual, but I had a heavy cold, sore throat, blocked hearing — all the things we have now and then — so I was in survival mode, and probably not at my most receptive.

Now the fields are harvested and everything seems to be gold, with plenty of blue sea and blue sky.  The late roses are flowering and soon the purple michaelmas daisies will be out.  I love every season, but there is something about autumn that has a special magic for me.  Maybe it is the fullness of it, the sense of completion of what the year has been promising the maturity of grain and fruit, or it could be no more than the richness of its beauty.  The trees are in full leaf, but here and there they are trying to turn colour.  Rowan berries are orange and scarlet.  I don’t know if it is true that the abundance and brilliance of them signals a cold winter, but it doesn’t matter, we haven’t had one for a while.  Apples and pears are fattening and on one of my apple trees they are all bright scarlet-cheeked already.

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The fields are harvested.  Autumn is on the way.

I meant to mention before that my friend and neighbour has a greyhound mix dog, beautiful and as soft as can be, called Bran. He adores pears, of all things.  Now they are getting ripe he goes into the orchard, stands on his hind legs and selects the pear he fancies, then takes it very gently with his teeth.  They are still not ready to pick easily, so he pulls back until the young tree bends practically to the ground.  You’ve guessed – the pear comes off in his mouth – the tree springs back again – throwing pears all over the place like a catapult.  A happy and hugely entertained dog goes dancing away, looking as if he is laughing fit to burst.

And stupid humans, we think it’s just as funny as he does.

But to utterly different and more serious things.  Last testimony service I was startled to hear one sister, who is usually a picture of health, in her forties I think, tell us that she had recently been informed by her doctor that a certain enzyme in her liver was at such a high count, three times what it should be, that she had a disease which meant she needed a transplant, or at best, medication for the rest of her life.  A second test had confirmed this beyond doubt.

She sought a blessing and was told in that she was healed from that time forth.

She returned to the doctor, and was tested again, with a view to deciding on medication or transplant.  They called her with the results and said they had no explanation, they were bewildered, but her count was absolutely normal!  There was no need for treatment of any kind.

It reminded me of one of my most intensely favourite stories from the scriptures, that of the woman who followed Christ in the crowded street to touch the hem of his garment, knowing that if she did so she would be healed from her issue of blood. I have always admired her total faith and wished that I could be like her.  Now I feel that someone I have known for years has exactly such a faith and has received the same miracle.

I am grateful to Our Father in Heaven for such power and mercy, such love for us.  And I am also grateful to this sister for her faith, and for her generosity in sharing with us what is really a private matter, but an experience of great beauty of spirit.  I hope I never let it slip from my memory. I am very blessed to have been close to a miracle of this proportion.  It should strengthen my faith until it too can find miracles when they are right — and accept pain or loss where that also has a reason, in the knowledge that God is in charge, and His love is wiser than my wishes.  We cannot, and should not, always be healed.

Sunday was my Relief Society lesson again.  We had the Stake Presidency up all the way from Aberdeen, a three- to four-hour drive.  This means they have to leave at about six in the morning and it is a long day for them, as it is for us if we have to go to Stake events.  This current Presidency has been very good about coming pretty often.

They all spoke at sacrament, and were exceptionally good.  There are some naturally gifted speakers, but most of us are not.  They were all excellent.  The first taught how no authority should be maintained by power, but by love.  Anger can be softened by gentleness, but if reproof is necessary, it should be given without temper or additional criticism.  But if you cannot afterwards show an increase of love, so that person does not feel disliked or rejected, then you should not do it at all.  Easy to say, perhaps, but a timely reminder.  Words given in anger can wound deeply and heal very slowly, if at all.  He spoke succinctly and with such gentleness himself that his message was well taken, and of course, scripturally supported.

The second speaker talked of a town where the weather could be extremely hot in summer and a swift, cool river came storming down from nearby high mountains.  However it was erratic and very dangerous.  Every year several people drown in it, until now the death toll is into several hundreds.  There are many warning notices, with figures, but we still have our own agency to choose if we will swim in it or not.

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The world, with all the freedoms it affords us, is a tremendous gift.

Like life, agency is ours, an immeasurably precious gift.  We can choose what we do — but we cannot choose what the results will be.  We can read the notices, but if we ignore them, then we may pay a heavy price.  I think the burden of that message is that we must decide where we want to be, who we want to be, and learn to read the notices that tell us what price there is to pay for swimming in the wrong waters.  Some notices are easy to understand, others are harder.  It takes work, humility and the acceptance that we are responsible.  But we can do it.

The Stake President spoke very much from the heart, about a personal experience.  He was the eldest of six children.  His mother was the strong one of the family who accepted responsibility, made decisions and led the way — of necessity.  His father was a nice man, but did not accept that burden.

A younger brother lost his way rather badly. He broke into other people’s homes and stole many of their belongings.  One day when all the families in the ward were away from home for the usual three hours of church, he broke into the home of a friend of their mother’s and took many precious things.

His mother was mortified!  The President, then just about to leave in his mission, so I imagine about nineteen, found her alone, confused and desperately unhappy, wondering what she could do to face her friend and make it all right again. He did not know how to help her.

Then there was a knock at the door.  When he opened it there was the friend from the other home with a large bouquet of flowers in her hand.  She had come to say, ‘I know this is not your fault.  I love you and I am still your friend.’

What a beautiful spirit!  No blame, no self pity, no call for justice, only care for a woman whose son had done something wrong, and hurt them all.

Afterwards I asked the President if his brother had found his path again, and I am happy to say he is well on the way.  (I also asked him if I might tell you this story.)

But what a beautiful example of selflessness in the friend!  I think we were all inspired.  I know I immediately hoped that if I were wronged I would find such compassion in me to think of someone suffering even more than I, and comfort them.  And if someone I loved had offended, let alone if I had myself, such beauty of spirit would be the most precious thing I could receive.

Sunday school also gave many fruits of the spirit.  The subject was those who had crossed the plains with handcarts, and been rescued from freezing or starving to death.  Those who had just reached the Salt Lake Valley sent food, clothes, horses and mules with wagons and teamsters back along the route to find them and bring them in.

But the burden of the lesson was how many people today are ‘lost’ and need rescued to help them ‘home’.  Are we looking for them, sending food, clothing and horses, in the present day guise of friendship, patience and whatever physical means they may need?

We were asked if any of us had been rescued at any time.  The Branch President told a story of when he was thirteen and he and his family were on holiday, swimming in the sea, but the swell had carried them out of their depth.  They waved and shouted for help, but those on the shore thought they were just having fun. 

The old line ‘not waving but drowning’ came instantly to my mind. It can be very hard indeed to tell the difference at times.  We see people who seem to be happy, and we never look beyond the surface, perhaps out of stupidity, self-absorption, or because it is so much easier and more comfortable to accept the surface assurance and go on our way, justifying our act by their words that they are ‘fine’. It is harder to become involved, dig deeper and see the loneliness or the pain, because then we have to do something about it.  If they are waving, we can wave back and keep going.  Duty is done.  If they are drowning, then we have to jump in and help — or deliberately and knowingly ‘pass by on the other side.’

We may need prayer and the guidance of the Holy Spirit to tell the difference between waving and drowning.  That means living in such a way that we can hear the Spirit — which is a big thing to do.  But the time will come when regrets will be too late, and how bitter that would be, to have had the chance and deliberately not taken it!

And what if the person drowning were us?  Or someone we dearly loved — our parent, our brother, our child?  And the person in the beach chose to turn a deaf ear to the cries, a blind eye to desperate arm.  What would you think of such a person?

The drowning one does not have to be absent from church, or a widow or orphan.  The loneliest person I ever knew was married and had eight children!  Not waving — but drowning!  The Spirit of God — who loves them as much as He loves you and me, will tell you the difference. Can we expect God to listen to us and hear our prayers if we will not listen to Him, or to others who are crying out to us?  Would we want to be so deaf, whatever the cost of hearing?

Relief Society was my lesson, on testimony.  We spoke a little on what testimony is — that light of belief in the Gospel even before we begin to understand it more fully.  It comes even before learning and before much experience.  It is a bright certainty that the Gospel is the most beautiful thing in the whole of creation, and no experience of pain, unkindness, dishonour or loneliness can negate it or make it untrue.  But certainly they can and do make it difficult at times.     

I asked each sister to say a little of what strengthened her testimony and also what weakened it.  I hoped we would all draw comfort from the strength, and perhaps offer some kindness or help for the weakening things.  If we were responsible, then we might even learn to avoid doing them. 

I was surprised how many people’s strength came from their parents.  Parents take note — you may be far more important in your influence than you think. 

But we need our own testimony.  Our strength should be in our hearts and minds, so in the time of testing we can stand alone, even if all else should fail.  A true testimony does not depend upon others — parents, spouse, leaders — anyone.  The covenant is between you — or me — and God!

I was surprised that no one else found the core of their faith in the scriptures.  That seems like an area we should address.  I admit others help me enormously, and I would find life bitterly hard without them, but when it comes to the crunch, my faith lies in the Plan of Salvation.  We are children of God!  Our origins and our destiny are both divine.  He sent us here with the total faith that we can fulfil the measure of our creation, which is His work, and go on to glory. If He, who knows the end from the beginning, has this much faith in us — why have we not more faith in Him?  And, for that matter, in our own possibilities?

What damages our testimony?  Guilt!  Guilt unaddressed, unresolved, separates us from the Lord and therefore from faith.  Acknowledge and repent, and the barrier is removed.  Anger also is a barrier that has to go.  Righteous anger that spurs us to fight against injustice is fine, but temper is not.  Self pity is another thing that blocks out the light, and has to be removed. The cry of why me? 

Well why not me?  We were never promised that it would be fair in the short run, or that it would not hurt.  Think of Christ himself. Was it ‘fair’ to Him?  Was he without loneliness, failure or pain?  Hardly.

One sister gave an answer that to me was truly beautiful.  I could say almost transfiguring.  She has a form of dwarfism that had altered her growth and body shape dramatically, impaired her movement and caused frequent pain.   When she became pregnant with her daughter she was at first told that the baby was normal. Her reaction?   Relief, joy, and then the thought — why did God not trust me to raise a special baby?  He trusted my mother.  Am I not good enough? 

Then she learned that after all the baby was going to have the same affliction as she has, it is genetic.  She felt grief for her, but also a blessing that she was, after all, entrusted by God to be as good a mother as her own had been to her.

I know her mother. I have not met anyone who does not trust, love and admire her.

Is that not a truly beautiful spirit?  God trusts me to care for the afflicted, not just now and then, but always, all life long!  Let the easy path be for someone else, I can tackle this one, with gratitude that He believes in me.

What examples I have seen this month!  And they are people I see every week, not visiting authorities or strangers, but everyday people who are anything but ‘ordinary.’

May the courage and the grace of God be with you all, this month and always.