A Life of Love

January in Utah was cold and smoggy ... and my attitude mirrored it.  Between the kidney situation, the anti-climatic-non-move-to-Vegas-but-rather-to-sister's house-to-Janny's house-to-Bunker's house-to-hospital (repeat several times), and the loss of a dear friend I felt just as cold and lost in a smog on the inside as I did on the outside.  And it wasn't just 'my life' that seemed to be cold and smoggy (I wasn't 'dark and twisty' folks, for those that actually understand my writing 100%, merely cold and smoggy), so many of my people were having a difficult time as well.  Vegas was mocking my decision with its 70 degrees and blue clear skies (not to mention the home cooked meals and adult supervision).  All I wanted to do was curl up with a good book and read, luckily that is what the doctor ordered.

As news came of Sherrie's passing (remember her?) my heart ached. My mind raced back to every chocolate-chip pancake and the conversations that were had over them.  We would sing at the top of our lungs in the Suburban, with Zachy and Sherrie taking the lead vocals, to every Spice Girls song on that CD. There were the moments each Wednesday night when she patiently, and with a heart full of love, listened as we fumbled through the awkward teenage years.  We laughed at ridiculous hours of the night as we played even more ridiculous games, we were never too silly for her. And then the moments of my 'adulthood' time with her, the unwavering faith in my decisions when I struggled to hold tight to them and the unconditional love that was felt so acutely.

You see world, everyone she met felt like this.  Although I know that I am loved by this sweet woman, confident in my status as the favorite melo-dramatic-teenageer who flitted in and out of that house on Canterbury ... we all are confident in that position, her favorite. Her love knows no bounds.  It knows patience for the stubborn and flighty, endurance for the wanderers, tenderness for the sensitive, stern for the smarty-pants, and hopeful for all.  Reading the words of hundreds, speaking with handfuls, and thinking back on all of the moments with her simply prove that she loves us all, with all of herself.  And as much as I adore being the 'favorite' in comparison to others (ie. favorite Granddaughter, favorite niece, favorite friend), I find greater solace in knowing that so many are her favorite.  She, quite literally, touches the lives of thousands of people for the better because of this gift to love, so sincerely, each individual.  I never feel like one of the 'young women' she had all of those years ago or one of her kid's friends. No, her love is tailored to each person, in that specific moment that she is with you.

She exemplifies Jesus Christ, for His love is perfectly unique for His siblings, like no other daughter of God to walk the earth that I have ever met. Her knowledge of Him and His Plan is unwavering, as no life could be lived so well without Him as a constant companion.  Clearly Sherrie is a favorite instrument of His as she lives so in tune and performs just as He would have her.

I think of Elder Oaks' words regarding conference talks, they are not meant to entertain but to reproach if necessary and inspire change for the better. All of this reflection on Sherrie's life can not merely be to sooth the aching heart but to inspire us to be as she is, lovingly and anxiously engaged in His Good cause. No unkind words spoken, no judgements handed out, a simple yet magnificent life of service and love lived. I do not doubt that she is whispering words of love to her children at this time, easing her husband's hurt heart ... allowing the world to grieve at this loss but hoping we all live a bit better tomorrow, loving and helping others along their way as we take this journey Home, and smiling as we do it.
  
As these thoughts fill my mind I see the sun of the first few days of February my heart finds peace.  Peace I pray that her blessed children can feel as life returns to a routine without her physical presence. Peace I plead that her husband can feel as he continues on in this journey without her wink from across the room.  Sherrie Lynn Adams Labrum will forever be in my heart, helping me to find the joy and love with every ounce of who I am.