Why would she want to raise her children after life on earth? Their souls will be grown, and they will no longer need rearing to adulthood like they would have needed on earth. Are there children in heaven?
Then the other day I was spending time with Ivy and Sage. Wren was also in the room. Ivy said something very smart. Sage said something very cute. Wren spit up. I realized how precious each of these phases was.
While I’d always considered this promise strange, in that moment it made sense. I wouldn’t want to miss out on any of these moments or phases with my daughters. Each age, each moment, each day is so unique with each of them.
Right now Ivy is becoming so smart and so helpful.
Right now Sage is so trusting and so happy.
Right now Wren is so innocent and so cute.
I could add 100 more individual adjectives for them at these specific moments. They are each so unique.
A common theme of my prayers is asking God the question: What did I do to earn these precious gifts?
I don’t know how I could possibly be worthy of these unique and special souls that have been sent down to me. I look at Ivy, Sage, and Wren and just marvel at who they are.
I marvel that the world goes day-to-day without answers to these questions:
Why am I here?
Where did I come from?
Where am I going?
What happens to those we love when they move on?
This life is so hard but without the inkling of an understanding of what comes next, it seems so hopeless.
The Plan of Salvation is a Plan of Happiness. Because God loves us He gave us families. Because He loves us He gave us the chance to come to this planet to learn.
I marvel at this plan and that I get to be a part of it.
I don’t know exactly how things work after this life. I don’t know how eternity works. But I do know that God is perfect and He loves us perfectly. I know that nothing will be lost – not one moment, not one gift.
I know that God gave me these daughters not for this life but for eternity. I know we’ll be together forever.
It’s interesting considering what you can glean about a soul in the signs they give before their arrival.
On Monday 1/20/25, someone asked me if I wanted to play basketball that night, I said I probably shouldn’t because Beth wouldn’t appreciate that. He asked when the baby was coming. I said, “Any day now. She’s being stubborn.”
Maybe because Ivy and Sage both came a week early, maybe because Beth was extremely done with this pregnancy, maybe a combination of factors, but for 14 days leading up to Monday 1/20 we were thinking it would be any day.
That led to a lot of anticipation. WHY AREN’T WE GOING TO THE HOSPITAL?
Friday 1/17 Beth and I spent the night on the couch as she was having irregular contractions most of the night. We were ready at any moment to pack up and leave.
Flash forward to 1/20 and I was at basketball practice when Beth called. She thought it was really happening this time. I told the team and was off, not super optimistic that it was actually happening. Once I arrived at the house, I knew it was happening.
We quickly gathered our bags and were out the door. Ivy and Sage waved with Grandma and Aunt Jane from the front door. I’ll probably always remember that image. My two girls, my world, not fully realizing how their worlds were about to change – in challenging but amazing ways.
I’m writing this from the hospital and I’m so excited for them to meet their new sister.
What Wren lacked in initiative pushing us to the hospital she made up for once we arrived. We got to the hospital around 5:00pm and she was born at 6:05pm.
Ivy and Sage’s births were fast and felt whirlwind-like. This had a whirlwind feel given the pace, but it really didn’t feel frantic at all. It felt very under control. Of course, who am I to say? Beth would probably say it was a complete whirlwind of chaos.
When Beth and I were planning to get married our Bishop at the time had a sit down with us. I remember him commenting on how Beth came from a family of five children and I came from a family of six. He made a statement that I’ve remembered ever since. It was something like, “You two will have no problem having children.”
I’m not sure how he meant it at the time, but with how Ivy, Sage, and now Wren have come, I can’t help but feel like it was a Bishop’s blessing. That’s how I’ve taken it ever since.
Wren’s coming could not have gone any more smoothly.
It felt like a blessed and sanctified process.
It felt guided and protected.
Again, Beth might not agree, I’m ultimately just a bystander to the process. I think she would agree though. Maybe we should ask her.
This isn’t to say that difficult pregnancies or deliveries are any less special. On the contrary, challenges sometimes make the blessings more powerful. We all have our own experiences with this miracle. And that’s what each and every birth is: A miracle.
I am grateful for a strong and capable wife that can do this unimaginable thing. We are blessed that this process has gone well for us three times. I do not take this for granted.
So Wren arrived with a lot more hair at 6:05pm.
I’ve described this process before. See Ivy and Sage’s welcome to life posts. I’ll try to put it into words for a third time.
My heart didn’t split, it expanded. As I looked at Wren, Ivy and Sage flashed before my eyes. I thought about how I loved each of them so powerfully. I can’t remember if I was brought to tears immediately with the other two. Maybe I should go back and read their posts. I wanted to write this before reading Ivy or Sage’s so this could be completely original.
But as I looked at Wren I had to hold back tears. Not sure why the third hit me so hard. Maybe it was the pace of things. Maybe three is a special number, and when your heart expands that third time, something special happens.
I don’t know.
All I know is I love her so much.
It’s crazy, you know. I can’t believe I’m here, on earth. I can’t believe I’ve been given the power and ability to create life. The greatest gift of all existence, the power to create life, and it’s been entrusted to me. I can’t believe I have three daughters. I can’t believe I have a wife that is so special and such a great mother. I can’t believe I’ll get to be with them forever, for the rest of this life, and beyond. I can’t believe Wren was born into a covenant, ensuring that as long as I do my part she will be mine forever. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I often think about what I did to deserve all this. And I can’t for the life of me figure it out.
But I’m anxious to say thank you one day.
So, welcome to this life Wren. It’s hard but rewarding. It’s scary, but if you know why you’re here, there is peace. It is overwhelming, but you’ve been given a family to help with that.
I love you baby girl and look so forward to seeing how your personality shapes and develops to add to our family. Thank you for coming to join us. We love you so.
Today I was driving into work and a thought occurred to me.
This wasn’t the first time this thought has come to me, but seldom has it hit me so clearly and with such impact.
The thought was this:
“I’m driving down the freeway and I’m surrounded by people also on the freeway. Most of us on our way to work. A seemingly innumerable number of us. In Phoenix, this is not too far from the truth. A million of us on our way to work. What is the point of all this? I know the point of all this. So few of these people around me know why they’re here or what they’re doing.”
This is a common theme I write about. The importance of knowing where we come from, why we’re here, and where we’re going. The three ultimate questions that so few seem to care about nowadays.
A world of billions and how many know their purpose?
I know my purpose. I know what’s more important than anything. Two things:
My family.
Assisting, however I can, in the building of God’s Kingdom, or sharing the great and important truths with as many people as I can, the truths that no one seems to seek anymore.
Sometimes I feel like I fall quite short on that second item. Sometimes I feel like I fall quite short on that first item.
I feel better about the first item every time I see Ivy, Sage, or Beth smile.
Sometimes I feel like no one around me cares about eternity and that makes item two difficult.
But we go on caring for, teaching, taking care of, and loving our families (item one) no matter how hard it gets.
And we go on caring for, teaching, taking care of, loving, and sharing with our eternal family (item two) no matter how much apathy seems to have set in.
I was eating leftovers from a meal Beth made the other night. It was a steak, vegetables, and rice bowl. I was eating the leftovers and every piece of meat I was getting was half fat. I don’t like fatty meat. It’s one of the few foods I don’t like. I started picking out the fatty pieces of meat from my bowl and realized half of them were thus afflicted.
The strange part was we’d just had this meal and I didn’t remember any fatty pieces.
I asked Beth, “When you scooped up my bowl the other night, did you intentionally scoop up the non-fatty pieces?”
She replied that she had.
That is love.
Love is choosing the non-fatty pieces of meat when scooping up your husband’s plate because you know they don’t like it.
For those who don’t know, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has an initiative we call “ministering.” The name has changed over the years, but it’s always been essentially the same thing. The concept is simple. Minister to one another, teach one another, visit with one other, check in on one another. Christ’s church should be a family and the ministering program is the way that the Church tries to keep its members connected, like a family should be connected.
Ivy recently went with me on a ministering visit. This wasn’t Ivy’s first rodeo. She’s done her fair share of ministering in her years on this earth. What was interesting about this ministering visit was what happened after.
One Saturday Ivy and I joined the missionaries meeting with a new friend of the church. He was on his way towards baptism. This was my first time meeting him. This person went on to get baptized and has since become a very good friend. So this was a significant visit with the missionaries.
Afterward, Ivy and I dropped by a family’s home to say hi. I had never met this family. They didn’t know who I was. This was a true “cold” drop-in. They had two young boys under the age of ten and a brand-new baby girl.
I knocked at the door and heard the normal shuffle going on behind it. The door was opened by two shirtless boys.
“Hi, my name is Brayden, is your mom or dad home?”
The younger one ran off yelling, “Dad!”
The father came to the door, and I introduced myself. I then introduced Ivy to the two boys. We small-talked for a couple minutes, invited them to church, and that was it.
On the way back to the car Ivy was, as is normal, full of questions.
Why did we visit them?
Because they’re in our church and we want to check on them.
That home was their church?
No, that was their home. But they go to our church, and we just invited them.
When will they come to our church?
Hopefully tomorrow.
On and on. Anyone who has been around a toddler knows what I’m talking about.
The next day we went to church and Ivy was very disappointed when her new friends weren’t there.
After church, we were preparing for our Sunday afternoon nap. As consistent as Ivy’s numerous questions is her desire to avoid a nap. She was giving us her normal fight before lying down.
I finally said, “Ivy, you’ve been so good today, if you go take a good nap, when you wake up, we can do whatever you want.”
I immediately worried about this open-ended promise I had given. What would she request? Surely her most common requests: a trip to Six Flags or Las Vegas.
Ivy shocked me with her reply. After her nap, the thing she wanted to do more than anything – go see her new friends.
I’ve thought a lot about this.
What was it about that visit that made Ivy’s day?
You know what I think. I think her little, pure spirit realized she just got to do something special. And she wanted to do it again.
She wanted more than anything in the world, whether she fully realized it or not – more than a trip to Las Vegas to see family or a fun-filled trip to Six Flags – more than either of those things, she wanted to go ministering. Ivy’s spirit knew the importance of ministering.
Sometimes I wish we adults could remember the purity of that desire – to minister to one another, teach one another, visit with one another, check in on one another, love one another.
I saw in Ivy what we all seem to forget. Supporting those around us – ministering – is more important than anything. Even a trip to Six Flags.
