There in Lubbock, Texas—one of the most barren and desolate places on earth—I took you away from your family and the life you knew.

We had so much fun together as newlyweds, living in a tiny apartment with a mattress on the floor for a bed, a cardboard dresser, and a folding card table for our dining set. After living on my own as a single man for more than seven years, I finally had a wife to come home to—someone to love and start a family with. One of our first nights there together after a long day of work, I came home to a dinner you had made: Chinese chicken salad and Texas sheet cake. It was such a happy time of life for me.

Yet it was also very hard for you, being away from those you loved and often feeling alone.

Overcoming Sorrow Through Service

And how did you overcome the hardships of feeling alone?

It was through service. You felt the light and love of Christ as the Relief Society president gave you opportunities to help Christy Hironymous and Melissa (I think those were the names) women in the ward who were struggling—who needed an extra hand around the house and help taking care of their children in their overwhelmed state of life.

You also served with the sister missionaries on your “mini mission,” driving them to Littlefield and Levelland, helping them escape tornado warnings, and helping them teach CB radio trucker girlfriends like Wanda—where you bore your testimony and felt the joy that comes from spiritually sharing the truths of the gospel.

You also assisted me as my home teaching companion when we went out to visit a less-active family in the tiny town of Smyer. When we asked the couple if there was anything we could do for them, they said they “needed a washing machine.”

Not really thinking there was anything I could do to help with that, I’m sure I said something like, “We’ll keep that in mind.” But then the next Sunday in elders quorum, a brother announced that he was getting rid of a working washer and dryer and wondered if anyone in the ward needed them.

Was this a coincidence? Perhaps. But I believe it was another small manifestation—a tender mercy of the Lord—telling us and that less-active family in Smyer that He loves us, that He is mindful of us, and that He cares for and watches over us.

This is what the gospel is. This is what Zion is. True joy and peace come as we serve others with light and truth. There have been many times in different lessons where I have shared your experience and testimony of service from our newlywed days in Lubbock.