I was born two weeks early.  Back in the 1970s, before many of the modern technologies hospitals have now to help premies, that was a big deal.  My mother told me I came out so fast, the doctor barely had time to get his gloves on to catch me.  It was determined that something was wrong with me and so tests were performed and it came as no surprise that my parents, especially my mother, were worried.  My father immediately called my grandpa to come and help him give me a priesthood blessing.  When they arrived at the hospitals nursery where I was, the nurses wouldn’t allow my grandpa and father inside for safety reasons regarding the other babies there.  But they did permit them to take me out into the hall, just outside of the nursery.  My grandpa said I was so small, he could hold me in the palm of his hand.  So in that cold, empty hospital hallway, with the priesthood they held, my father and grandfather gave me a blessing of healing.

The next morning, when all the test results came back, everything was negative.  I was healthy and able to go home that day.  My mother firmly believes it was because of the blessing I was given that I was healed.

Years and years later, I delivered my second baby, our little Josie.  She was a month early and was immediately rushed to the newborn intensive care unit (NICU) because she was not breathing correctly. It was like I was reliving my mother’s life, as the nurses told my husband and our family friend that they were not permitted into the nursery to administer to our baby girl.  But they were allowed to take her into the hall, right outside of the nursery.  And so, it was there, that my husband and our good friend Joel, by the power of the priesthood, were able to give her a blessing of healing.

And within a week, she was able to come home with us, healthy and strong.

I remember speaking with my Mom about what I had been feeling as I watched my lil’ baby struggle to breathe and felt so helpless, knowing I couldn’t do a thing to ease her pain. And then the feeling of relief after she was blessed with the power of the priesthood…I knew she would be okay. I knew the Savior was with her.  He understood my pain as well as hers.  And she was healed.  And I was so humbly grateful.

Oh how grateful I am for my father…for my children’s father…for my Father in Heaven…..these men in our lives, they should be honored and loved and respected.  My life would not be filled with the peace of mind and love of heart if not for these amazing, eternal men.