PP6 Ward Newsletter: How Will You Be Remembered?

What Really Matters?

Recently, I sat next to my dad in his usual chair—the one where he's spent so many hours studying, reading, and pondering. The one that has, in a way, become sacred ground. As his strength has faded, our conversations have grown deeper, filled with the kind of honesty that only comes when you know time is running short.

We talked about life, about family, about the things that truly matter. As I've watched him navigate these final months with courage and faith, I've been forced to confront that question myself: What really matters?

I may have shared this experience before, but I keep coming back to it. In one of my dad's lowest moments, he found himself frustrated, even angry with God. He had lived the gospel, served faithfully, and dedicated his life to doing good—so why this trial? Why now? Why so much suffering?

In that moment of despair, a friend stopped by and shared a verse from the hymn I Know That My Redeemer Lives:

"He lives to grant me rich supply.
He lives to guide me with His eye.
He lives to comfort me when faint.
He lives to hear my soul's complaint."

Reading those words, he felt a quiet assurance—not that the suffering would go away, but that the Lord was in it with him. That He was listening. That, even in the midst of pain, God was still blessing his life in ways that weren't always obvious.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, especially in the context of what I've learned from my dad. If I could distill it down, it would be this: The real wealth of life isn't found in bank accounts or accomplishments, but in the love we give and receive. It's in the people who will be sitting in the front row at our funeral, not because they have to be there, but because our lives were intertwined with theirs in a way that mattered.

Watching my dad, I've realized that death is not the end. The Plan of Salvation is real. The Savior's promise that "because I live, ye shall live also" (John 14:19) is not just a hopeful sentiment—it's truth. And because of that truth, I don't have to fear.

I don't know how many more conversations I'll get to have with my dad. But I do know this: when all is said and done, the only things that will truly matter are the relationships we built, the faith we strengthened, and the love we shared.

May we all take the time to cherish what really matters today.