04.06.24
The first time I met Sister Johnson was in the initiatory booth. Tiny, old, frail, humble. She had to have help to get around, but her spirit was certainly strong. She asked if she could tell me what happened to her (I assumed that day, but maybe not…). She told me how she had lost her purse in her house and looked for it everywhere. The bag contained all her bank cards and (most importantly) her temple recommend. She was frantic as she looked everywhere. It was just not there. She slipped into her closet, her prayer closet, and approached her Heavenly Father on her knees in prayer. When she finished and opened the closet door, there was her purse on her bed. Sister Johnson has that kind of faith. I see her every Friday at the temple. Every week I wonder if that will be her last before she is called home to that Father she knows so well. She is in a wheelchair now, though she fought it. She always wanted to stand at the veil, but it was just too dangerous. When she saw me at the veil on Friday, she asked that she be brought to me. I’ve taken her through the ordinance a few times, and once again we were all in tears by the time she was welcomed to the other side. She was sobbing, “O, my Father, I love you so much!” The brother who was receiving her was patient and kind as she clung to his arm. I looked to him to see if I should push her chair through to the celestial room. Tears flowed down his cheeks. I waited for someone to take her, but no one came. finally another brother gently stepped in and took the chair. Many sisters are very emotional at the veil—and I have been, too, but Sister Johnson is unforgettable in her devotion and love for God.
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