WordPress just notified me that I marked my 17-year anniversary writing on this particular platform. I find that hard to believe,but there it is. Time rushes past with increasing speed as I grow older.

I felt moved to post something to mark the occasion.

Elder Ronald A. Rasband, an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ and one of the God’s special witnesses in these days, posted the following on Facebook today:

At general conference I spoke of our grandson Paxton, who was born with a very rare chromosomal deletion.
Paxton lived three treasured years. He could not speak, crawl, walk, or run after his brothers. But little Paxton’s hands reached out to ours and to our Savior with love and affection.
I remember the first time Paxton’s father and I gave him a priesthood blessing that, as it says in the scriptures, “the works of God should be made manifest in him.” They were.
He brought immense joy to our family. Families with such a precious member know what a privilege it is to be blessed with one with special needs.
Associating with Paxton, our whole family gained an increased, deep, and abiding trust in the Lord. Then God reached out and took him home.
The words of the psalmist say it all: “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning” (Psalm 30:5). That joy is, as the Savior said, “Because I live, ye shall live also” (John 14:19).
I know Paxton’s tender “spirit and [his] body shall be reunited again in … perfect form” (Alma 11:43). By the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, his joy will be in not only a resurrected body but one that is resurrected whole and perfect.

Elder Rasband’s story of little Paxton reminded me of a poem that has been in my files of inspirational materials for decades. I felt impressed to share it here, although it is available in other places on the Internet as well. It speaks boldly of God’s Plan of Happiness for all his children, and brings me comfort in ways I cannot easily express in words.

A Mission Triumphant
By Joan Bills

At a council assembled in Heaven,
Where presided the Great Magistrate, 
Came the spirits in anticipation
To make plans for their second estate.
Each was given his own special mission
And a talent to use and display,
And with joy each received his assignment 
With instructions to keep faith and pray.

Now one spirit transcended the others, 
So outstanding in talent and grace,
So majestic in stature and bearing,
With a light in his angelic face.
And the Magistrate turned to address him: 
"Lo, your mission is unlike the rest;
They are going to earth to be tested, 
But, my son, you are going to test.

"You will sift out the hearts of my people, 
You will test them for true charity;
What is done to the least of my children, 
That is the measure they mete out to me. 
You will challenge the faith of your loved ones 
And the stranger you meet on life's way; 
You will undergo great tribulation
And your spirit will feel deep dismay.

"When your sojourn on earth is completed 
And your message imparted to men, 
Then, as humble and pure as you left me, 
You'll return to my presence again."
For a moment the spirit was troubled, 
'Ere the conflict within him he'd won, 
Then he spoke: "I am willing, Dear Master, 
For Thy will and not mine shall be done."

Now the time had arrived for departure, 
And the spirits were ready to go,
But one paused at the throne of the Father 
And spoke in a voice sweet and low: 
"Hold my hand so I won't be afraid, Lord,
I am eager to go down to earth."
So with God's hand in his, he departed
And entered the channels of birth.

On a bright golden day in October,
All our family was radiant with joy,
For Heaven had sent a choice spirit
In the form of a dear baby boy.
How excited I was on that morning
As I ran to my schoolmates and cried:
"Oh, guess what, I've a new baby brother!"
And my small heart was bursting with pride.

How his hair was the color of Autumn!
He had brown eyes and rose-petal skin.
Through those eyes we were often permitted
A quick glimpse of the angel within.
Thus, joy lingered a while in our cottage,
and my father would whistle a tune.
My mother would scour and polish
And would smile at her baby and croon.

Happiness was short-lived in our household, 
For grave sorrow stole in at the door.
My father's gay whistling faltered,
And my mother's sweet voice sang no more. 
Our baby was entering boyhood,
And his strong body grew as it should,
But the mind did not function correctly, 
And we soon knew that it never would.

For the rest of his life he was destined
To remain a perpetual child;
He would laugh and then cry like a baby, 
With emotions subdued and then wild.
My dear parents' dreams were now shattered,
And their fond hopes reverted to grief; 
They discarded the plans for his future, 
And their heartache could find no relief.

But as time passed, we learned to accept it; 
We would all laugh together and play,
And my brother was petted and pampered 
And usually given his way.
And physical strength still continued,
All according to natural plan,
And his body received strength and passion 
While developing into a man.

And society must have its way now, 
So our darling was taken away.
He was placed in an institution, 
Where the rest of his life he must stay. 
I prayed day and night for my brother, 
And in mercy God answered my prayer, 
For one evening I knelt at my bedside 
And received inspiration while there.

My dear brother and those who live with him
Are fulfilling a mission sublime,
And they will return to the Father
To receive crowns of glory, in time.
In the meantime they're not being tested;
It is we who are taking the test,
And in serving the least of God's children, 
We truly are serving the best.

How dare we presume to neglect them,
And leave them alone to their fate! 
Those children should dwell in a palace, 
To be served by mankind while they wait. 
We should deem it an honor to know them 
And to do everything that we can
To comfort, to love, and protect them;
They should not be forgotten by man.

Even though there are those who will shun them, 
There are those who will bless them with love, 
And I, somehow, am sure that our actions
Are now being recorded above.
So I no longer fear for my brother,
For I know, though I don't understand,
That he'll travel life's highway in safety,
For his God is still holding his hand.

Mortal life is challenging for most of us at the best of times. But it is decidedly “unfair” in human terms: some are blessed with incredible wealth, health, and good fortune; others struggle with poverty, illness and death. But I have a firm knowledge and testimony that God’s hand and God’s eye is over all of us, and what is important is not the circumstances in which we are placed, but how we respond to them, and how we treat our fellow sojourners on this pale blue dot (hat tip Carl Sagan). I have unquenchable faith that in a coming day, all will be made right, and all will be made fair and just – as the saying goes,

Everything will come out OK in the end. If it’s not OK, it’s not the end.

The Old Wolf has spoken.