Simply said: there shall not be room enough to receive it.

I was reading a message I wrote to my friend the week after my ex and I broke up. 

I traveled back into my mind to the Sunday following what happened. I was in my parents bedroom. 

The room was new because they had torn down the wall that separated my old room from the hallway and made it into their room and transitioned their old bedroom into a study. 

I had just run in there to tell my dad that he had sent me a text saying it was over but he still needed time to think over things. 

I remember just breaking into pieces. As if my whole world was crashing down into pieces. I was sitting in this chair up against the wall as my father gave me the most tender of blessings.

 I felt the most vulnerable I have ever felt in my life. 

I look back now and think “How could I have been even briefly angry at my heavenly father for taking him away as I had felt the day he told me he didn’t feel right about marrying me.” 

I had gotten ready for church and was all dressed up pretty so of course my mascara ended up on my dad’s white church shirt as he held me while I cried.

 Thinking of this makes me think of one of my fondest memories of him and its alarming to think its one of my favorite because it is the day that he told me he didn’t feel right about marrying me. 

We had both wept intermittently throughout the day over the whole thing and it was my turn to cry. We were standing in the temple parking lot outside of his car on the passenger side. I was having a hard time accepting his answer and I just kept saying, “Heavenly Father doesn’t give contradicting answers.”

 I then cried from the very depths of my soul because I knew that the man I loved was no longer in my life. 

Then being the amazing man he was he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly while I cried. 

Then when I wanted to pull away because it hurt so much to feel the empty hopeless pain of loss I felt he pulled me closer. I know that my mascara was all over my face and now on his shirt but the very fact that he cared enough about me to pull me closer when I wanted to get away means so much to me. 

He knew I needed him and at that time it was okay for him to be there for me and not let go and the only thing I can say now is that I still love him and will for the rest of my life and that is okay...that is love. The opportunity I had to have his life intertwined with mine for a few months is a gift. He made mistakes yes, he broke my heart twice- yes, he sometimes was selfish- yes,  but in the end I was blessed with the opportunity to love someone with all of my heart. How blessed am I to know what that feels like!? So blessed and so grateful. 

Tender mercies, blessings, gifts, etc. You call them what you wish are all around us. Making life more tolerable and challenging at times. I love what President Monson called them: "Memories bring June roses in the Decembers of our lives." I would hope that we each seek to see these things in our lives and acknowledge them. The very act of recognition does something to our souls that cannot be done otherwise. Be grateful. Just do it.