“C’mon Mom, let’s go!”  My twenty one year old daughter,  Ashley, had come home from her college apartment, to do her laundry and pay me a visit.  By now, after many months, staying home with my son who was on house arrest, I had found a new addiction.  It was a renewed love for writing that I had as a young mother and teenager!  I was hooked to the computer!  I loved writing and spent all my time between clients collecting puzzle pieces and making sense of this most amazing gift called, “Life!”  Now, she was pulling me from away from my love for writing, to go in search of another.  “Let’s go find some new music!” she said, knowing that she could peak my interest with the hope that there was a new song somewhere out there that I had not yet discovered to use in my sessions as a massage therapist.

As we entered Borders Bookstore, I felt refreshed to be out in public.  I love people and am enthused by being with them.  But, the last several months since my son’s sudden departure to detention and my surprise annulment had left me a little gun shy.  All I wanted to do is “hang out” in a peaceful place.  I loved my new home and I was quite content to spend all my free time writing and creating, in my very own “Scents of Peace”.  But, now, as I walked into the well lit bookstore, I felt happy to be there.  She headed one way for the racks of compact disks.  I headed another.  We would meet somewhere in the middle.  “Ashley,” I called out to her, “Let’s find the most beautiful song in the world!”

Two men were engaged in a conversation in front of one of the CD aisles.  One, bright eyed man looked up at me, as though my question had been intended for him.  “I’ll help you!” he said with a warming smile.  “Do you work here?”  I asked.  “No, but,  I’ll help you!”  Soon, we were pouring over the titles of many CD’s looking for “the perfect song” together.

He asked me what I intended the song for.  I told him about my work with people including using the five senses to awaken the human spirit, with music, massage and aromatherapy.  “I just like to collect good uplifting music. I use it in assusting people to find joy!” I told him.  He affirmed his interest in this kind of work and his own great love for good music too.  I suggested that he pay me a visit so that he could see how I was using music in my therapy.  I handed him a business card, thinking that I would probably never see him again.

The next morning, while I was in session, Dean paid me a visit with a few CD’s of his own. He left them for me and promised my assistant, Linda, that he would be back with more. He had been in search of the most beautiful song, since the night before, and wanted me to hear these.  I listened to the songs…they were nice…but, not quite the most beautiful song in all the world…

It was a few weeks later when he struck solid gold.  He brought me a CD that truly depicts the essence of my work.  It was on a music sampler from a company I had never heard of before.  Later, Dean and I, now newfound friends, ordered ten of the “Freedom to Love” CD’s.  The song is a unique song which was we learned from the distributer, was recorded in
England, by a woman named, Lucinda Drayton, who performs with a group called “Bliss”.  The song is called “One Hundred Thousand Angels On My Side”.  Since discovering the “most beautiful song in all the world”, I have used it in countless sessions.  It truly speaks in a language that sings to the heart.  I haven’t met a person yet, who is not “awakened” by it’s beauty. 

Since then, he still finds me beautiful songs.  But, what impressed me the most about this man was his gentle nature, his kind heart and his giving spirit.  That is “the most beautiful song” anyone can ever sing to another human being.  To give the gift of their time, their interest, their concern is to become a ministering angel in the flesh to our fellowmen.   Since then, when I am counting my many blessings; I start by counting the many angels that I have crossed paths with in mortality on this side of the veil and from the other.

It has taken “all the kings horses and all the kings men” to put my heart back and the hearts of my children back together again after experiencing many “unexpected detours” along life’s way.  I am amazed at the blessed brothers and sisters that have come into my and my children’s lives in the past few years, since I went through my first divorce.  I realize it took an all out search party in an effort to save one exhausted  and very confused and tattered queen,  her royal subjects and her little kingdom.  It’s taken at least “one hundred thousand angels“, both seen and unseen to assist me on my way.  That is why I have celebrated the gift of angel-friends for the past two years, at my birthday.  It commemorates for me the moment, I set foot upon this earth, 46 years ago in search of angels on my side.

In the past few years, since I discovered that beautiful song through a beautiful friend, I have truly come to realize what the most beautiful song in all the world truly is.  It can be heard above the chatter of the world.  It can be seen in the joy of a perfect stranger’s eyes as he smiles and says, “I’ll help you!”  It is written in-between the lines of every book that bears witness of a divine being who loves us enough to send us angels to our side.  It is felt only as we embrace the light in each other’s eyes.  It is heard when we hear the distant beating drawing closer in one another’s hearts, becoming one with our own.  It is whispered in the quiet moments when we realize that we do indeed have a loving Father in Heaven who cherishes each and every one of us.  It is in the realization that the Atonement is big enough, deep enough, wide enough and high enough to cover a multitude of sin.  It is in the still, soft voice. 

It is in the moment that you realize that no matter what your child has done, you will continue to love him with all of your heart.  This is the song of redeeming love.  If you listen closely, you will hear one hundred thousand angels singing it in this very  moment.  The song of redeeming love is reward for the patient.  It is the gift to the merciful. It brings hope to the persevering.   It is the blessing that is visited upon your head that sometimes comes disguised beneath a shroud of adversity.  It is in realizing tha we all have, “One Hundred Thousand Angels” on our side!

Karyn Grant

www.lullabythefathers.wordpress.com - See the update on my experience singing to the men at the prison on Sunday

www.kangenwatermusic.wordpress.com- See the update on our “Living Water; Living Music” Party at Kit’s on Tuesday, March 20, 2007

www.cherishingplace.com- to order Karyn Grant’s Music

joycoaching@comcast.net- to email Karyn

Do you remember Little Child, how you used to love to sit and read fairytales with on your mother’s lap?  Often, by yourself, you would look at the pictures even though you could not read the stories by yourself.  Your mind was a fresh white page, upon which the tender hopes of “Once Upon a Time” was written in a child’s hand, and through a childlike perspective.  Dreams of “Happily-Ever-After’s” filled your mind with hopes for a glorious future.  As a child, you did not comprehend the difference between reality and visionary.  Oh, what a believing heart you had!  Cherish the believing child, for it is she who will lead you into the kingdom of love, joy and peace. 

The Believing Child simply believed all that she heard.  The stories spoke of  handsome princes rescuing damsels in distress.  They made it look like a good thing to be a weak thing.  The pages transformed pumpkins into coaches, and little white mice into coachmen.  There were fairygodmother’s and seven dwarfs that somehow managed to make dreams come true.  The Believing Child accepted the fairytale impressions that filled her mind and no one taught her to believe any differently.  As the little girl grew into young womanhood, she was taught to believe that marrying in the King’s House would ultimately lead to a happy ever after. 

Soon, she hoped that she would be dancing off into the sunrise and sunset of mortality with a handsome prince by her side, in glass slippers that fit perfectly. The first kiss from her very own prince charming seemed to only further convince her that fairytales come true and that her dreams were sending her on her way into a life of bliss and ecstacy.  She fell in love with the idea of being in love and didn’t read the fine print on the prince’s resume.  Neither one of them truly took the time to ask enough questions and get enough answers.  The starlight was shining too brightly in each other’s eyes.  Do not chastize the Believing Child for dreaming her “Once Upon a Time” dreams.  It is the very quality of “Believing” that we need in order to awaken the Sleeping Child, who fell into a graceful surrender of sleeping forgetfulness when the magical fairy dust turned to ashes before her very eyes.  She felt betrayed.  She felt abandoned.  And eventually, she stopped believing in castles, and princes, and coaches, and fairy godmother’s, and fairy dust.  As a child, you thought as a child; it is time to put childish thoughts away. 

But, it is in the resurrection of the child’s believing heart that she will be taught the realities of the True Prince, the Real Kingdom, the Plan of Salvation, the purpose of opposition, and that the metaphor for the Fairy Godmother, is fact, the Atonement of Jesus Christ, which transforms childhood sorrows into the Song of Redeeming Love. It’s time to awaken the sleeping child from her silent and lingering slumber of sadness and teach her how to believe again!  It’s time to teach her what she can believe in and in whom she can believe!  I shall teach her that she can believe in God, her Eternal Father and in her Eternal Mother!  I shall teach her that miracles still happen for those who believe and endure to the end!  I shall teach her how important her gift of believing is in order to create a far more glorious future than she ever dream possible!  I shall teach her to believe that with God, nothing is impossible!  Come, bring Me the Cherish the Believing Child and bring all of her past disillusions with life, with love, with happy-ever-after’s to the Bridegroom, even the Son of God.  The Truth is, that it will take the gifts of believing, trust and faith to create the reality of a truly “Joyfully Every After”.   

Suggested Song: I am Your Prince by John Canaan/
CD by Karyn Grant: “Arise, Daughter, Victorious!”
www.cherishingplace.com (to order click on catalog)

Do you remember Little Child, how you used to love and to sit and read fairytales with your mother?  Often, by yourself, you would look at the pictures even though you could not read the stories yourself.  Your mind was a fresh white page, upon which the tender hopes of “Once Upon a Time” was written in a child’s hand, and through a childlike perspective.  Dreams of “Happily-Ever-After’s” filled your mind with hopes for a glorious future.  As a child, you did not comprehend the difference between reality and visionary.  Oh, what a believing heart you had!  Cherish the believing child, for is she who will lead you into salvation. 

The Believing Child simply believed all that she heard.  The stories spoke of  handsome princes rescuing damsels in distress.  They made it look like a good thing to be a weak thing.  The pages transformed pumpkins into coaches, and little white mice into coachmen.  There were fairygodmother’s and seven dwarfs that somehow managed to make dreams come true.  The Believing Child accepted the fairytale impressions that filled her mind and no one taught her to believe any differently.  As the little girl grew into young womanhood, she was taught to believe that marrying in the King’s House would ultimately lead to a happy ever after.  Soon, she hoped that she would be dancing off into the sunrise and sunset of mortality with a handsome prince by her side, in glass slippers that fit perfectly. The first kiss from her very own prince charming seemed to only further convince her that fairytales come true and that her dreams were sending her on her way into a life of bliss and ecstacy.  She fell in love with the idea of being in love and didn’t read the fine print on the prince’s resume.  Neither one of them truly took the time to ask enough questions and get enough answers.  The starlight was shining too brightly in each other’s eyes. 

Do not chastize the Believing Child for dreaming her “Once Upon a Time” dreams.  It is the very quality of “Believing” that we need to awaken in the Sleeping Child, who fell into a graceful surrender of sleeping forgetfulness when the magical fairy dust turned to ashes before her very eyes.  She felt betrayed.  She felt abandoned.  And eventually, she stopped believing in castles, and princes, and coaches, and fairy godmother’s, and fairy dust.  As a child, you thought as a child, it is time to put childish thoughts away.  But, it is the resurrection of the child’s believing heart that will be taught the realities of the True Prince, the Real Kingdom, the Plan of Salvation, the purpose of opposition, and that the metaphor for the Fairy Godmother, is fact, the Atonement of Jesus Christ, which transforms childhood sorrows into the Song of Redeeming Love. It’s time to awaken the sleeping child from her silent and lingering slumber of sadness and teach her how to believe again!  It’s time to teach her what she can believe in and in whom she can believe!  I shall teach her that she can believe in God, her Eternal Father and in her Eternal Mother!  I shall teach her that miracles still happen for those who believe and endure to the end!  I shall teach her how important her gift of believing is in order to create a far more glorious future than she ever dream possible!  I shall teach her to believe that with God, nothing is impossible!  Come, bring Me the Cherish the Believing Child and bring all of her past disillusions with life, with love, with happy-ever-after’s to the Bridegroom, even the Son of God.  The Truth is, that it will take the gifts of believing, trust and faith to create the reality of a truly “Joyfully Every After”.   

Suggested CD: Enlightened Journey By Karyn Grant
To order Music as Therapy CD’S by Karyn Grant; Joy Coach, go to www.cherishingplace.com and visit our catalog!
To view Karyn’s other sites:
www.joycoaching.wordpress.com
www.lullabythefathers.wordpress.com

Somehow, God manages to sandwich in-between this most serious blessing called, “Life”, some wonderful “blissings”, as well.  A “blissing” is a word I just made up which means, “unexpected moments of joy”.  “Be of Good Cheer”, His Son kept telling the people, reminding them, that he had overcome the world.   

I am grateful for those moments of sheer comic relief that seem to even out the wrinkles in life’s fabric.  I hear a faint chorus of giggling with my sister’s,  even in our forties, like little school girl’s.  These sweet memories bring a smile to my lips.  I remember the hearty chortles of my daughter, Ashley, that has melted many an ice cube, when moments of mothering,  were too serious for words.  Often, she has made me burst out laughing~with one of her hilarious remarks that seemed to come out of no where!  I remember with relief, when the ice was broken in a strained moment, by laughter shared with my first date when I tried slicing a cheery tomato and it sprayed his tie (prior to the dance) with fresh cherry tomato juice.  I remember him laughing it off, leaving me more than relieved. 

I remember laughing at many a well-timed joke.  Moment’s that might have otherwise been stiff and uncomfortable, when a mistake had been unintentionally made, magically turned a sad moment into a funny one.  Steven, my twelve year old, is the best at this.  He makes me laugh when I least expect it.  His sense of humor is one of my choicest blissings.  I remember those suppressed snickers during lengthy prayers when trying so hard to be enduringly reverent.  I remember the infectious sound of my baby’s giggles that seemed to erupt from somewhere deep within them, sending me into a joyful moment when I could do nothing other them smother them with kisses and raspberries on their bellies.  I remember the tee-hees of little school girls when we spied a boy we all wanted to impress.  I remember the “twitters like birds” like the ones described in my favorite song in Mary Poppin’s, “I Love to Laugh!”    

I recall a time when life seemed so very serious and I had forgotten how to laugh.  I remember Dena, my Venezuelan friend teaching me in her beautiful accent, the difference between joy and sorrow when she said, “Life is full of “POC’s and POL’s”.  When my children get mad at me, I simply smile and say, “POL: that’s part of life!”  Or when one of her children is facing a challenge, she smiles and says, “POC: That’s a piece of cake!”  Perhaps, as my daughter Lara suggested when I was forgetting to claim joy one depressing moment, “Laugh even when it’s not funny, Mom!”  Even when life seems sullen, even a symbol such as this, : ) gently reminds me to LOL…Laugh out loud!”  “Be of Good Cheer; for I have overcome the world” , Jesus often said to his disciples when they forgot that life is to be enjoyed, not just endured!  “Man is that he might have joy!”  We often remind ourselves~ but perhaps, it’s time to start taking that message a little more personally…“Woman is that she might have Joy too!”  We came to this earth to taste the joy, to experience happiness, to celebrate the light, to dance in the moment and to sing a new song! I want to cherish the gift of Laughter more!  I want a smile to anchor in from the depths of my own inner vessel more.  I want to let my light so shine from deep down inside.  I want to let humor shower itself like raindrops of sunlight bursting into my day.  I am going to ask God Himself, to add to my five physical senses, yet one more.  I am going to ask Him for a Divine Sense of Humor like His.  I want an increased awareness of those cloudbursts of joy which can only come from heaven, Itself.  I want to embrace the merry heart I had as a child.  I want to restore the simple ease with which my own laughter used to ripple up from the “fountain of youth”  within my heart. 

When did I forget to laugh?  When did I learn to suppress my joy? Who told me that life is no laughing matter?  Who told me that raising teenagers is such a serious matter?  Who told me that it’s not a beautiful thing to be silly in your forties?  When did I stop dancing to the music at stop lights?  Why did I stop toilet papering the neighbor’s house?  Okay, perhaps, that is going a bit too far…but…I just want to know, Dear Lord, Who on earth told me that it’s not okay to be “The Laughing Child”?  Who told me that when I grew up…I would have to put away the sweet, simplistic joys of the little girl who loved to laugh? And why~why on earth did I ever believe them? Being “serious” is a costume that I am ready to take off.  I am stepping out of the shadows of forgetfulness.  I think, somewhere along life’s path,  I forgot my own, very merry heart.  In the process of forgetting who I truly am, I forgot how easy it is to laugh!   Somehow, in the thick and thin of things, I buried one of my greatest treasures deep down inside.  Laughter is a gift we give ourselves~ especially when we learn to laugh…at ourselves! 

The Son of God gives me, in this realization, Divine Permission to “Be of Good Cheer”.  He says that a woman can be spiritually-minded and light-hearted at the same time!  He is!  What does it mean to be light-hearted?  To have a heart that is full of Light, I presume.  I claim the Gift of Good Cheer; even a Divine Sense of Humor.  I  see life through His merry eyes each time I look into my dear friend, Barb’s eyes.  I remember the joy in laughter filled moments when all of my sisters are near! 

I am so grateful for the blessing of laughter and for those beautiful loquacious sounds that serenade me daily, by my daughters, Ashley and Lara.  I want to reclaim the gift of an infectious laugh to brighten the lives of my dear children, my family and friends.  I want to appreciate more those blessed souls who make me laugh; our family dog when she plays with my son Michael,  my friend’s cat, my client’s baby whose grin spreads from ear to ear each time I see her, my friend’s husband, my sisters, my mothers, my daughters, my sons… Most of all I want to learn to laugh more freely…in those moments when I stand in complete solitude gazing up at the Heavens wondering what on earth do I have to laugh about?  Yes, I want to discover the sweet serendipity of more laughter-filled moments.  I want to do more than remember the past joys, I want to write more humor into the lines of the present script!  I want Humor to be a part of my future script!   I remember the song I sang as a child, in the school talent show, “I love to laugh!”  I didn’t win that talent show…and I went right on singing and laughing.   

I want to laugh with God…above Anyone else…I want to hear the sound of His voice rippling from the innermost depths of His Being~a merry moment’s jubilee!  I want to hear Him laugh with me and at me…I want to know that I am His Delightful Child…that I can amuse Him…and that for all of my weaknesses…making Him laugh and smile…shall one day become my greatest strength.   Though I was punished,  a little too severely for laughing out loud, as a six year old child, during the Easter film, I want now to reclaim that child and to behold the resurrection of joy upon her smiling countenance, as she witnesses the Son of God, cherishing her child-like merry heart and laughing with her.  Sometimes, I am far too childish, I realize that.  What I truly want, is to become as a little child, for I know that becoming as a “little child” is a prerequisite for entering the kingdom of heaven.  I want to become more child-like.  The door of the kingdom of heaven is quite small.  You have to go through it upon bended knees.  It’s the door to you heart of hearts.  It’s the door to “The Cherishing Room”.  Truly the Kingdom of Heaven is within you. I want to enter therein and sit upon God’s knee.  I want to cup My Father’s face and trace his eyelashes with my dimpled fingers.  I want to kiss His cheeks and wrap my little arms around His neck.  I want to embrace the Father of My Spirit.  I miss Him dearly. I want to laugh more with God…for He is the Father of My Spirit. I want to laugh more with the Savior…for He is My Elder Brother.  I want to laugh and cry along with the Angels of Heaven and Earth… for they are God’s Own Children.  Last but not least, I want to learn how to laugh…when times are trying.  Laughter is a blessing in disguise.  I want to laugh, even if I must laugh alone.  I want to learn how to laugh when I am by, my very own Self.  Slowly, I rub the sleep of forgetfulness from my eyes.  I beginning to remember now, that deep down inside, I still am “The Laughing Child” .  I remember, that it was He who gave me, my very own merry heart.  It is He who knows how to fix it when it gets broken.

Karyn

The Almost-Silent Performance
by Laura Moncur

I just woke up from a dream. I went to a beautiful performance art show. It was amazing! The theater was VERY small and intimate. It sat less than fifty people. The show was QUIET. It was amazingly quiet. Just beautifully quiet. The theater was in the round, so there were no seats any better than others.

The first act started with a pool of water. The performers approached the water and put their feet into it. They made moises with the water that sounded like music. It was absolutely beautiful. It was kind of like STOMP but so silent and quiet that you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention. It was percussive and dance and all the lovely music came from the water.

The second act had a patch of grass in the middle of the theater. They walked on the grass in time to create music. It was so quiet and beautiful. I was amazed that they could get the theater so quiet. It was such a lovely sound of people walking on the grass in the exact time to make music. Even though the music was being created with such different “instruments” you could tell that they were playing the same song on the grass as they had in the water.

The third act involved one woman in the middle of the theater at a huge keyboard, not a musical keyboard, but a computer keyboard. She was typing and we could see what she was writing on the screen. The sound of her typing was a rhythmic tune, so she was creating this inspiring music again, but just with her fingers on a keyboard.

There were intermissions between the acts while they changed the theater. Outside the theater, there were arts and crafts for sale: lots of colored glass hanging from metal curlie-cues. It was the kind of art that makes subtle noises like bamboo windchimes. Somehow, I think all the arts and crafts had to do with the show. Because the theater was so small, they were making their money on the souvenirs instead of the seats.

After I woke up, I realized how difficult it would be to create this performance in real life. Each person allowed into the theater is a noisemaker and we don’t live in a society that rewards the quiet. You would need restrictions for people to even come into the theater: no cell phones, no pagers, no children under the age of 15, no talking, no one with any sort of sickness that would make them sniffle or cough. I think this sort of performance simply couldn’t work in today’s society without strict enforcement and bodyguards to evict people for even the slightest infraction.

The whole idea of this performance is that music is everywhere around us. It is in the drips of water that come off the house and the soft padded steps of the cat across the carpet and in my fingers as I type this entry. Even now, I can feel the music in my fingers as I type this and my clicking is suddenly beautiful instead of a noise that falls into the background. I can hear the hard drive in the computer spinning as a backdrop to my typing and the world is beautiful.

I want this performance art show to exist. There is so much noise in our lives that this almost silent performance was a life-changing experience for me, even if it was only in my mind…

Our circle of influence is growing.  We would all love and appreciate hearing how this work is affecting you, your family and your children.  I have 36 “Night-Time Nurturing Musical Meditations” coming out soon.  Rick Priddis of PRIDDIS MUSIC is assisting me in the production and release of all my work to be used in JOY COACHING SESSIONS around the world!  There will be six CD wallets, each containing twelve cds.  These JOY COACHING SESSIONS-FOR EMOTIONAL ABUNDANCE WALLETS will be wonderfully and reasonably priced.  A client/new friend/ young mother/ Kimberely tells how she used the guided visualization cds. “The Healer’s Touch” and “Divine Essence” to soothe her children’s troubled hearts after their fatther recently left the family.If you have any comments to share about this work and the work you are doing as a “Joy Coach” in your own home, please post any comments to:

Everyone needs a place on this earth where they feel cherished and loved.  Children need it.  Women need it.  Men need it.  We all need a place of refuge and a safe haven.  It is a joy to have, “The Cherishing Place” in my home.  My home is a place where I have a designated “Cherishing Room”, a room where I can bring clients, friends and my family to and assist in the beautiful and tender process of creating love, joy and peace in the lives of those I love and care about.

For more information on how you can create a “cherishing place” in your home, write me or call about sessions and classes. 

Our role as mothers, wives, daughters, sisters, friends, etc can take their toll on us and deplete our emotional-spiritual wells.  We need to learn the beauty of cherishing and nurturing ourselves as well as those we love.

Our new “JOY VIBRATION” classes begin, in my home, for twelve women on March 9, 2007, on Friday Mornings from 10-12:30.  Come and glean all you can about creating and spreading love, joy and peace in your own own life and in the lives of those you love, with the healing arts of music, massage, aromatherapy…and then—-start sharing your new-found joy with your own “Cherishing Circle”.

With Love,

Karyn
joycoaching@comcast.net

By Karyn Grant 

Several years ago, I found myself on the brink of divorce and thus, a deep depression ensued.  I did not know which way to turn, so I turned to the Lord and literally poured my heart out to him, while on my knees.  I told him in that prayer, that all I wanted to do, was to “come home and sing to the spirits in spirit prison.”  My heart’s lament was, “Oh, that I were an angel and could have the wish of my heart…”

While upon my knees, that brisk day in October of the year 1999, alone on a grassy knoll,  I petitioned the Lord to create an escape for me from mortality, I felt myself bathed in the tenderest of divine mercies.  “That can be arranged,” spoke an almost audible voice, “but, I need you on this side of the veil. There are many souls who suffer from depression and who are in search of the pure love of Christ.  Will you assist me in creating a place of refuge for these women and children?” 

My tears were dried immediately, as I knelt there and I nearly laughed out loud. “Who would listen to an LDS woman who has been married as many times as I have been? I have been married almost as many times as the woman at the well!”  I was reminded of the story of the woman at the well, in the New Testament and of how the Lord used her story to convert “nearly a whole city”.  I was immediately touched that the Lord can use anyone to bless souls, if only they have willing hands and a willing heart.

             The years went by.  I continued writing music and singing to women every chance I could.  I continued producing songs of the Savior’s atoning love.  Every opportunity that came my way, I would drop everything and go and sing to women whether it was at a Relief Society Enrichment Night, a woman’s shelter, or a gathering in someone’s home.

           The years passed by and new challenges arose in my personal life, making it more difficult for me to leave my home and minister to other women.  One reason, was that my teenage son was placed on house arrest.  But, I never forgot the Lord’s request that I “assist” Him in creating a place of peace and safety for women who needed to feel the pure love of Christ.  I used the songs of my heart to continue conveying the message that the pure love of Christ is for everyone, at half-way houses, to depressed youth, to the University of Utah’s Pyschiatric Unit and Utah State’s Mental Facility.  Each chance I could find, I bore my witness through song and the spoken word, that the Savior’s love encompasses all of us—no matter our challenges, addictions, trials or tribulations.

           But, in the back of my mind and lingering in my heart, I remembered my petition to the Lord, to go to the spirits in spirit prison and sing to them, that crisp day in October of 2000.  Every time that I passed the Point of the Mountain, I wondered about the souls there—and if they might need one such as I, with a song such as mine, to minister to the prisoners there.

           Years passed and I kept this wish of my heart to myself, as Alma, who said, “Oh that I were an angel and could have the wish of my heart; that I might go forth and speak with the trump of God and cry repentance unto every people…”  I wondered if I was sinning in my wish to go to the prison and “sing” as though with “the trump of God”—and minister to those souls there by reminding them of their divinity, their nobility and of their infinite worth to their Heavenly Father and Divine Mother in Heaven..

            One evening, in November of 2006, I received a phone call from another single sister, a dear friend of mine.  “Karyn,” she said, “I was just driving by the Point of the Mountain, when I felt the strongest impression whisper, ‘Don’t forget us!’  Karyn, the women at the Point of the Mountain, need you to come and sing to them the songs of the atoning love of the Savior!”

           I was amazed because this truly had been the wish of my heart that I had never vocalized to anyone but to my Father in Heaven, nearly seven years before!  “Can you find out who we should ask to come and sing to them?”  I asked Rayonna hopefully.  “I’ll find out who the Relief Society President is and do my homework and then I’ll get back in touch with you.” She said.

           Now, during the years that had passed since I sent my prayerful petition to the Lord, I had through several experiences of my own which prepared me for such a visit to the prison.  As a single mother, in the LDS culture, I had found myself wondering how to deal with the effects of my son’s stay in detention as well as his reoccurring drug abuse issues.  “Who will listen to a woman who has been married as many times as I have; and who does not have the perfect Mormon family?”  was often my prayer to the Savior.

            But, now, on the evening of February 18^th, 2007, Rayonna and I whispered a prayer of gratitude together for the opportunity to go, for a second time, to the prison to visit the sisters there. I prayed that the spirit of God would be poured out in abundance upon the heads of these women, through “the song of my heart” and that each one would feel the spirit testify in an undeniable way, that they are indeed, divine daughters of a  Glorious Father in Heaven who knows their names, their hearts, and their divinity and royalty.  After closing our prayer, we entered the building.

             Bishop Lombardi greeted us warmly and Sister Susan_____________, the Relief Society President and her husband treated us so kindly.

            As the evening progressed, I felt of the great privilege and honor it was to be with these sisters.  As I gazed into each one of their faces during the course of the evening, I saw tears being shed, hearts being warmed and smiles of empathy and compassion as I shared through song and the spoken word, the experiences I had gone through as a single mother, in order to gain my testimony of the Atonement of Jesus Christ and of his tenderest of mercies.

            Each song bore witness of the pure love of Christ and of the healing power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.  I was embarrassed and apologized when I realized I had forgotten one of the instrumentals and forgotten a sheet of lyrics, which I worried would interrupt the spirit’s gentle flow.  But, these women, only smiled at me with compassion in their eyes.

           As I sang to them, I recognized many of the sisters, from my first experience visiting them in prison.  I realized that I was indeed being given the divine privilege, to once again, have my prayers answered and to visit with that precious group of sisters gathered together there.  I spoke to them of the woman at the well and of how the Savior knew of her past and yet, did not condemn her.  He offered her wells of living water, promising her that she would never thirst again, if she would partake of the water that only He could give her to partake of.  Her perceived her true needs, that she had been thirsting for true love when she had ventured out, seeking to fulfill her needs and then—he blessed her by filling those needs, Himself.

            I wondered aloud, as I spoke to them, “Could the woman at the well, have also wondered, as I did the day that I poured out my heart in prayer, “Who will listen to a woman such as I?”  Now, as I gazed into the compassionate faces and smiling eyes of these woman, I realized that it was truly I who was being ministered to…by them.

            For years, I had been in a prison of sorts, worrying that others might be judging me for the errors in judgment I had made, and for the choices my son had made.  Now, as the meeting came to a close, many of the women lined up and came up to greet me with more warmth and compassion than I had ever remembered feeling in all my years of ministering.  With tears in their eyes and in mine, we greeted one another one by one, whispered words of love and encouragement were exchanged as we had to speak briefly to one another.

            This morning, as I awakened, the words came into my thoughts, “For I was imprisoned and ye visited me..” Suddenly, I realized why the Lord had sent me back to minister to them for second time.  The first time, I went to visit them.  But, the second time, something beautifully divine happened.  Each one of these women, in their own way, visited me.  Each one of them shared their expressions of gratitude for my coming to bring to them a message of the pure love of Christ and in doing so, they affirmed that the trials and tribulations of my past, had not been in vain.  How could I have ever been filled with such an outpouring of love for each one of them, had I not first longed to feel such tender mercies from the Savior himself?

            As Bishop Lombardi walked Rayonna and I out to the car, along with Brother_____, they expressed their love for their callings and that serving time at the prison in the capacity of a bishop or a Relief Society President’s husband, is one of the choicest blessings of their lives.

            “Oh, if I were an angel and could cry repentance unto every people,”  I would bid all people, to forsake their judgments of those who have lost their way and who have made errors in judgment.  The way back, through the darkness into the light, is hard enough, if you must face the journey alone.  I know.  I have walked a lonely road, as a single mother, trying to maintain my courage to keep up the faith while ministering to my less active children.. 

           I know the Lord sent me to the prison on a divine assignment.  To go there and sing to the spirits there and then to return and share with our beautiful LDS community, that some of the dearest, most tender souls are being tutored by the Lord of his tender mercies and of his divine compassion, while there.  As I spoke to the women, I said, “Never will I drive past the Point of the Mountain” and feel the same…for me, it will always be called in my heart and mind, “The Turning Point of the Mountain.  This can be a sacred time to get to know who you truly are and to come to an even deepening understanding of the Lord’s atonement.”

           I can honestly testify that I have never felt the spirit stronger than the night I went to prison and was visited by the angels who ministered to me there.

In the process of discovering the lost art of cherishing, I found the way to overcome depression, naturally!  Here’s the place where you can learn how to overcome “the blues” with a little help from your friends!

With Love, Karyn Grant