Crossing the Sweetwater

After experiencing Martin's Cove, and after eating a sparse lunch, which may have been enough for some people, but not for my SIX boys! Who, after they ate all the lunch meat, took our left over tortilla wraps and filled them with scrambled eggs left from breakfast, cheese and carrot sticks left from Monday's lunch, and cookies, for pete's sake :) We trekked over to the Sweetwater River to reenact the Sweetwater Crossing the handcart pioneers had to make in the blizzard with ice crusting the top of the water.

These three boys sang a beautiful song by Jennie Phillips called, "Let Me Carry You" that had everyone crying before we even began. I'm including the words because they are just so GOOD!!

Nine hundred saints You came across the seas and plains
Hunger and cold have taken some away
You’re in despair And you just don’t have the strength
To cross this river standing in your way

You can’t feel your feet
And your hands are frozen through
The Father knows all that you’ve been through
So let me be the Father’s hands today
My shoulders will bear you up with His strength
[Chorus]
Let me carry you
Let me bear the cold
I am here to share your load
Through all you’ve done
You have been true
But this is something you just can’t do
Let me carry you

You’re almost there You will make it to the end
You will go on And you’ll find your strength again
So one by one climb upon my back
And I will give you Everything I have

Let me carry you
Let me bear the cold I am here to share your load
Through all you’ve done You have been true
But this is something you just can’t do
Let me carry you

We’re brothers in this earthly trail of tears
The faith we share
Is stronger than our fears
So let me be the Father’s hands today
My shoulders will bear you up with His strength

Let me carry you
Let me bear the cold
I am here to share your load
Through all you’ve done
You have been true
But this is something you just can’t do
Let me carry you

Then we crossed . . silently . . . that river that was such a huge obstacle to those cold, hungry, weak pioneers. Some were carried, but it was hot and water felt good, so I walked . . . this is my family, Lane, Jake, Koi, and Calen. Dexter and Tyler are pushing, Rebecca is in the cart and Taylor is walking behind with Dave and I behind them all. It was very sacred, very special, and I'm so glad I was a part of it.

My cute boys . . I've had MANY comments since the trek about the wild boys that ALL ended up in my family, and how did THAT happen? I was a little worried as one by one they were dropped into our every changing little group. But I grew to love these guys. They were full of personality and energy and I just gave them all the reins they needed to run with, and only pulled them in if they got too far beyond the boundaries.

Like the hot afternoon when they came out of their tent and they had ALL cut their pants off into shorts. I groaned and then said, "Ok, now you only have one pair of long pants left. Go put then on." And they turned right around and did. Dexter, the boy in the hat looking towards the camera, is in a band. He made up raps all the time we were trekking. My friend, Danny, who was a Pa of another group, pointed to Dexter in this picture and said, "If that kid had been in my group, I'd have KILLED him!" But I loved him. He bore the sweetest testimony at our testimony meeting on Friday night. I guess one of the blessings of filling this calling was patience and love for whomever was in your group. And if this river had been flowing with ice and I'd have been cold, hungry and weak, I know they would have carried me. Way down deep, they're softies : )

Martin's Cove

We were camped next to a stake from Draper who were apparently were eating better than we were because the CATERER they hired had a generator that ran ALL NIGHT LONG keeping their food cold. It was a NOISY generator, and the harder I tried to ignore it the louder it got. Between the obnoxious generator and my cooking insecurity, I didn't sleep all night long. I got up as soon as it got light and opened our cooler to see what was for breakfast. Plenty of eggs, a small baggie of ham and hash browns for about four people. I scrambled all the eggs with the ham and cooked the hash browns and we ate pretty good that morning. I redeemed myself with my boys, who had been asking other groups to adopt them the night before because "our Ma and Pa can't cook!" We took our lunch with us in a cooler, along with two 5 gallon water coolers, one filled with water, the other filled with Gatorade, all loaded in our handcart and off we headed for Martin's Cove.

When we got close, we left our handcarts and walked silently and reverently into the Cove. There are no words to describe the sacredness of that cove, or the images going through my mind of pioneers struggling to put up tents, huddled around fires trying to stay warm, and looking with hope in their eyes for a rescue that was still too far away. Absolutely no words. Days later tears still spring too easily to my eyes. Everyone needs to experience Martin's Cove.

President Hinckley has called it Wyoming's Temple, and it truly is sacred ground. I can't tell you how proud I was of our Youth. The missionaries there said they had never had a more reverent group. Moab Stake Youth are a cut above, and they felt the spirit that beautiful July morning.