Stories in this episode: After her elderly father passes away, LuAnne finds herself in the thick of cleaning out his home as she struggles to know what to let go of and what to keep; Jessie receives her inheritance a little early only to lose it just when it was needed most; After a string of disappointments, Miya is surprised to discover the resilience she longs for in the form of two pieces of paper from a beloved ancestor.
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Welcome to This is the Gospel, an LDS Living podcast where we feature real stories from real people who are practicing and living their faith every day. I'm your host, KaRyn Lay.
So help me out. I cannot be the only one who has a highly developed internal fantasy in the style of Great Expectations, where a previously unknown relative of unimaginable wealth shows up at my door with the life changing news that I am the heir to their vast fortune. And from that moment forward, I pay all my bills without juggling anything, and I add avocado to every salad and every sandwich — devil may care about the additional cost. Is it just me? Okay. All right. That's fine. Nothing to see here, folks. I think it might actually have been this fantasy that got me thinking about today's theme. When you push through all the worldly ideas about wills and rich uncles and millions of dollars, this idea of an inheritance is as deeply ingrained in the gospel of Jesus Christ as just about anything.
Mentions of heirs and heritage and inheritance are everywhere in the scriptures. And in fact, one of my all-time favorite scriptures, Romans 8:17, has the Apostle Paul reminding us all that we are children of God, and if we're children of God, then we are also heirs to His throne, and joint heirs with Jesus Christ. I just love that idea. I come back to it again and again, when I'm worried that all that will ever get handed down to me are some genetically soft teeth — I'm serious, they're made of chalk — and a penchant for drama. Well, today, we've got three storytellers who are surprised by the things that are handed down to them. And the way that that inheritance changes their perspective on the things that matter most.
Our first story of inheritance comes from LuAnne, who worked her way through a mountain of memories to find that what her parents actually left her belonged to her all along. Here's LuAnne.
My three brothers and my sister and I are gathered around the kitchen table of our childhood. We've come in from three time zones, and we've gathered for the weekend. We haven't been together as siblings for — probably since our first brother left home for college. So this is unusual.
The reason that we're gathered here today is that my dad has passed away eight weeks previously, and we're here to make a plan to sell his house and to distribute his belongings. And we lost our mom 12 years prior to this time. With my dad, though, 12 years later, we, we lost him and he'd been struggling with Parkinson's disease for three years. And even though five of us are gathered, it feels really empty. My siblings and I are sitting around the kitchen table. And actually, we kind of just fell into our spots that we had in our childhood of where we ate dinner. And it's daunting because we're going through the things of my dad's lifetime, and my mom's lifetime and we're deciding are we going to donate something? Are we going to hang on to it? If so, who gets it?
You know, we've seen other families go through this process and have a lot of conflict and leave where they're not friends or close anymore. And that was something that we that we didn't want. And we decided we wanted to try to make a plan that would be impartial and non-emotional. We knew that we were all filled with emotions, we were all grieving still. We didn't really think it was possible to take out all our emotions from this process, but we did want to try to have a process that would try to minimize those misunderstandings that we thought would be happening because we all were coming with so many emotions.
And we sat there and we started with a prayer. And the way we did our picks is we each choose a color and that color was equivalent to the first pick, the second pick, the third pick — on down. Like we have things sectioned out like quilts, family keepsake quilts, and we had figurines and we had furniture and so we each would choose something in the group of items. And then after we'd gone through our picks, then we would snake through. So number five would be number one. And then every so often, we would redo our drawing just so the same people weren't getting the first pick in every group of items.
And so we did start going through things and we could tell as we went through things, what they cared about by how they kept it. For instance, my dad's Navy uniform is dry cleaned. All three dress and casual uniforms are dry cleaned and hanging in his closet in a bag. We also found things that weren't, weren't so cared for like his files, he may have a birth certificate and a file along with a grocery store receipt. And some other thing that we would have thrown away. Or, the drawer with the kitchen utensils had kind of odd things in the drawer, so that wasn't really something he cared about. The Navy uniform, carefully kept.
One thing that my parents kept was Swiss bells that they hung on the wall. And part of our heritage is our grandparents came from Switzerland. And our parents had gone on a trip to Switzerland and then came home with these bells and hung them on the wall. That was by the backdoor. So we all remember as kids, you know, making the bells ring as we ran out the door — in or out the door, we often just kind of did that as habit.
To see and discover the things that my dad cared about and my mom cared about too, um, was kind of like a treasure hunt. It was putting together memories, my own memories that I had, but also stories that I heard. And putting the pieces of our life story felt like a treasure hunt to me.
I started to understand the role these belongings played. The first and most obvious one is probably the belonging or whatever item reminded me of my mom or my dad, either something they had made by my mom and made by hand or my dad carefully selected it at a furniture store, or maybe he had redone it, and it could take us to our mom and dad, but also, I realized that it was a memory, for me, of who I was as a little child. And how my mom and dad made me feel as a little child. How they made me feel safe, and secure and loved. And so – an object could mean a whole lot more than – as important as that was, it was the memory of my mom and my dad, but I found that it was a memory of who I was. And who I was as part of this family, and that I belonged. And that – even the feeling of being a little child where your parents take care of you and you're not the adult out fighting in the world and making decisions and making adult decisions for your dad's life or death decisions for, for his care. And so I found that the objects took me back to being a cared for, loved, little child.
Sometimes we're in business mode of going through things. And other times just one – something would hit us. Like when my brothers were carrying buckets of wheat from the basement to take to the garage to get rid of, I walked into my parents bedroom. They have a big master closet, and this is the place where their personal items have always been. Their clothing – they've kept family heirlooms like quilts that both grandmas have made, they've kept the tape recording of my sister's funeral. They've kept things that are special to them. And it's been full of their memories and memories that we had of them. But when I walked into the room by myself into this empty closet, that, to me, was stunning. It was just the sight of this empty closet that had always been full. It took my breath away, and I had to just stand there a moment and feel the finality of this. This is it. You know, this is the last tie to my mom and dad, and it was like shutting the door and walking into my new role. Not as a caregiver, not as a daughter who has parents on the earth, not – but as the you know, the final buffer, the adult for the family – generation one. But that was the, the feeling of just the finality of seeing this empty closet.
There was this one item that had emotions around it for more than one of us. This one piece that was the one thing – if I could only choose one thing that I wanted, was this wooden cabinet that I used to open the door and, and I loved the smell of it. The wood smell. So we kept piano music, we kept magazines in there and I used to, as a little kid, open the door and smell. And you know how smells can take you back to smells and music and sounds and sights? And that's something that took me back to the safety and security of my childhood. And so we weren't sure even with all of our planning and processing, we still had emotions, we still had feelings that – that caused some division between us, and we had to walk away. So we walked away.
When I walked away, I felt frustrated. And I felt like I thought we had figured out, you know, the process for this and, and so I felt frustrated and, and helpless. And, um, I felt inner turmoil. And so I just had to walk away from the situation, as did everybody else. Monetary stuff is super easy. You divide it, you take the pie and divide it five ways, but things. . . So I was so frustrated that it was about a thing, an item, because we've been through so much, through our childhoods and through caring for our dad and that this, you know, that one thing, this one thing, could cause division.
I was worried how our relationship would play out. If we had these emotions and this discord now, would it seep into the future? That was my worry. When you experience loss, or life transitions – this was both – oftentimes you feel isolated, at least I felt isolated. I felt like – I'm the only one. And sometimes when you're in transition, or you have a loss, you just want people to understand you're desperate to be understood, how this feels, and how, you know, it's like standing in the ocean and wave after wave, you're trying to get your footing and the next wave knocks you down.
And I realized through this process that my parents have given me a gift that outlast them, and it's the gift of my siblings. I mean, there are times when I see my brother smile, or the way he walks or my sister, how she's sitting at the piano and playing the keys and it takes me to my mom or my dad. And so really, that's what lasts. The things that we've inherited are things and items that we can put in a trunk. But the – their mannerisms or their characteristics or the things they've given us live on in my siblings, and I get to see that. Even with our – the emotions that seemed to cause division, and frustration, we still needed each other and needed to be understood. And that's a gift that, that my parents gave us. It's the gift of my brothers and my sister who feel this loss just as intensely as I do. And just as deeply. And when it's all said and done, it's not a possession. It's not the thing. But it's the belonging and the safety and security and the love that I have for my brothers and for my sister that last. It's not the thing.
Um, we – when we gathered back up, you know there were apologies and there was forgiveness and, and we were able to move forward from that. You know, I was lucky I had a mom and dad who loved me. And I never questioned that. I always knew they loved me. And I think because of that it made it easy for me to believe that my Heavenly Parents loved me. And that I have an eternal inheritance. I have a Father who offers me everything He has – not parts and pieces, not things. But He offers me everything He has, and that He's given me gifts to navigate my life right now. And when He offers everything He has, it's even to become like Him. Which I find the things that I was drawn to in my parents’ house reminded me of that same belonging and feeling of safety and security and love. So, the inheritance from my Heavenly Parents is eternal and infinite.
And it still helps me when I see the things that I brought home from my parents’ house. See the things that I inherited from them, the objects that take me back to memories of them, but also the feeling of belonging that they created and love and safety and security. In fact, at the end of – at the end of the weekend, it was, of course, a rush. My, my one brother had waited till the last minute to leave for the airport and so we're all, you know, rushing to give him a hug and say goodbye and realize, time’s over.
And another brother just took a minute to try to process what had happened. And he said, "You know, we did a hard thing this weekend. We did lots of hard things." And he said, "We didn't do it perfectly. But we did it together." Which I thought was a great, a great summary of what happened. And I think our parents would have been happy with that.
That was my friend LuAnne. I first saw snippets of this story on her social media feed when she was in the process of cleaning out her dad's house, and I immediately wanted to have her share it with us. But as with all stories, timing is just as important as the story itself. And this one – this one needed some time to settle. But when the time was right, we were honored to have the opportunity to help LuAnne tell it.
We all hear those stories about families who allow the inheritance or the lack thereof to tear them apart at the seams. And even when everyone has the best intentions, as they did in LuAnne's case, loss and emotion can complicate things. I think that gentle spirit of reconciliation and understanding that settled upon her family is the truest representation of the Spirit of God and His gifts. And how cool to have that deep, new perspective, that in the end, it's those family relationships that are our true and eternal birthright.
Our next story comes from Jessie who received her inheritance a little bit early, only to misplace it. Here's Jessie.
So about five years ago, I inherited my mom's wedding ring early.
I was cleaning the church with my husband and my family. And I ended up looking down and realized that my diamond had somehow, in the cleaning of the church, been vacuumed up or disappeared. It just wasn't there.
And so I was talking to my mom about it. And she said, “I happen to have my mom's wedding ring and if you want, you can have the one that your dad gave me.” And so – graciously and excitedly, I took that ring and it became my own. Which was, timing wise, really sweet because later that year, my dad was diagnosed with vascular dementia, which quickly started spiraling to Alzheimer's.
The ring was designed for my mom by my dad and so I loved it. It was beautiful and it was a piece of both of them with me all the time. And since I was across the country from them, I really appreciated having a little bit of my family with me all the time.
I clean offices for a little extra money on the side and I often have a habit of tucking my ring inside my pocket when I clean, just to keep it protected, and also because sometimes the chemicals can irritate my hands. I misplaced the ring a few times, but I usually find it pretty quickly in a pocket or on the washing machine.
However, there was one time about a year and a half ago that I could not find it. Off and on, I would pray for the ring. I would look in all the normal spots, check pockets, look in drawers and cabinets. I would even get a wild hair and check all the pockets in all my drawers and in all my coats, but no ring. I would wait a bit and pray again and then start the whole process over again. As time went on, I began looking in less likely places like the car or the windowsills, in extra drawers around lamps, like anywhere I could think of – I would look for this ring, but still no ring.
By this time, I was traveling a few times a year back home to help take care of my dad and spend time with my parents and give my mom a well-deserved caregiver’s break. I was also giving myself some much-needed time to make memories and say goodbye to my dad. At one point I had a deep conversation with God. I realized that it was possible that maybe I had really lost the ring. Um, I had donated some pants that wouldn't ever fit again to Goodwill and I thought that possibly the ring was gone. That I had accidentally donated it.
Fast forward about six months – my mom had called and said that Dad was really sick, she asked us to pray that he would make it to Christmas because we were all planning on spending Christmas with my parents as a last hurrah with my dad on this side of the veil. Again, I took to my knees and asked for help to find the ring. I wanted to give it back to my mom, so she could have her ring when Dad passed. I thought, you know, “If, if anyone knows where the ring is, my Heavenly Father does, and God can help me find it.” I believed that He could send angels that would help bring it home.
And so, so I put that prayer out there and then kind of forgot about it. Let it be for a while. Prayers were answered and we were able to spend a wonderful holiday with my family. We made lots of memories and lit my mom's home up with laughter and noise. Little did we know that while we were in Idaho, a little mouse was on the job.
Upon our arrival home, my oldest daughter found a hole in her stuffed animal. It was one of those diffuser animals that you heat up and it diffuses essential oils. Well anyway, that tiny creature had spread flax from one end of our house to another. We had opened so many drawers to put away laundry and every time, we would find a little corner full of flaxseed. I was bound and determined to clear out the flax and took a day to clean every nook and cranny.
About a week before my dad passed, I was cleaning out the bathroom closet, and found yet another stash of flax. Armed with cleaners and a trash bag, I began throwing away boxes of stuff we haven't used in years. I felt like I should look in that last box one more time to see if there wasn't anything in the box that I might not want to throw away. And the right-hand corner, closest to me, tucked under the flap – was my ring.
I think it's beautiful that Heavenly Father used that little mouse to help me find the ring. I know that He is a God of miracles, and that sometimes those miracles take time. And sometimes they don't look the way we think they should look. And I know that we inherit more than rings and things. I'm grateful for the inheritance of faith. For my mom and dad teaching me to ask God for the desires of my heart, and to believe that with God, all things are possible. Even finding your ring.
That was Jessie. Jessie shared her story with us on the pitch line. And though I have never met her, she is clearly my soul sister. Losing something important feels really, really, real to me, and I can just feel her pain and that longing to find that ring again so she can honor her parents. And I think what I'm going to take from this story is the reminder that while like Jessie said, the real inheritance isn't a thing, I think our Father in heaven does use these earthly things to teach us about the Eternal One sometimes. The things we receive, the things we lose, the things we find, and the things we give back, become our spiritual preparation for the things that we will inherit forever.
Our final story today comes from Miya, whose rich family heritage of storytelling helped her to find her own narrative through her hardship. Here's Miya.
I come from a big family. I'm the oldest of five children, but I had many cousins around me growing up. My family is Polynesian. My dad is full Samoan, and my mom, she is Hawaiian and Japanese.
A typical gathering of my extended family involved a giant, easy-corner tent, made in my grandmother's driveway, and all the cars being parked on the grass outside of the driveway, so that the children had space to play, whether it was basketball or riding on their scooters.
And then underneath the tent, we had those big tables dedicated just to food, but then also other tables dedicated for the adults and the children to gather to talk with one another, but then also to play games.
So we played cards or some board games. And that was just typical, we would have that almost every weekend. I loved it.
Being a part of a big family, the stories that I heard and were told were always around us, constantly being shared and constantly in my mind, and in my heart. I remember distinctly hearing these stories of my family – of those living and dead – in my bed where my dad would come to my room and sit me down. And he would tell me the story of how my mom and dad met and how they fell in love. And then he would tell me the stories of his grandparents, how they came to America from Samoa. And he would tell me stories of his upbringing with his mother, his mom being a single mom, his parents divorced. He would also tell me two Samoan legends of the islands and how they came to be. My favorite story was the story of the shark and the turtle, and how that legend still lives today.
So the legend of the shark and the turtle – there's multiple variations, but the one that I, I was told the most is a story of an old grandma and a little girl who lived in a village. And they were teased because the grandma was blind. And because they were treated so poorly, the little girl wanted to leave the village with her grandma and find somewhere else to live. So together, they got into a canoe at nighttime so that no one would see them disappear. And as they got in the canoe started paddling away, a giant storm came up, and it tipped the canoe over. And both the grandma and the granddaughter were drowning. And the gods took pity on them and to save them because of their love for one another, they turned them into a shark and a turtle.
And to this day, you can see where the shark and the turtle are at this point at a beach in Samoa. You can sing the song to them and a shark and a turtle will appear and swim right there in front of you. But the story cautions too, that you cannot point your finger at them because that would remind them of being teased and being outcast and so they'll swim away and they'll never hear you or come back to you ever again.
My dad was trying to teach me several lessons one, that it's important to be nice to people and that we should treat people with love and respect. And two, that familial piety is stronger than death. It's stronger than anything in this world. And it can keep you and your loved ones safe and close to your heart, no matter where you go.
And those stories, they stuck with me throughout my youth and into my adulthood as well. They are still part of me.
Growing up, I always hoped that I would have a family of my own. I always wanted to be married, I always wanted to have a bunch of children like my family does. I knew that if there was a tribe around me, I would never ever be alone. And that was something that I feared growing up was being left out or being alone. So having an automatic family around you was what I desired and needed.
And as I grew up, even though I had plans, I recognize that a lot of times those plans didn't happen the way I wanted them to. And to be real, it was very frustrating. And it still is frustrating. Sometimes it's like what's the point of a plan if they don't happen the way you want them to? Some examples include, I went to BYU Provo, specifically to major in piano performance. That didn't happen. My wrist gave out because I practiced so much, and a dream that I had since I was a little girl of performing at Carnegie Hall was put to rest.
And then I moved forward with my life and decided to serve a full-time mission. And I was happily called to one of the homelands of my ancestors, which was Japan. And growing up in Hawaii, I was around a lot of Japanese people and I figured that I'd be just fine in Japan because of my upbringing. But as I went out there, I struggled so much with – not only the language, but the culture. And I even struggled with an eating disorder out there. I was severely depressed and anxious, and all of that led to me deciding on my 21st birthday, to leave my mission behind at seven-and-a-half months to go home and take care of myself. I clearly did not have that in my plans. But even in the midst of my disappointments, there were still a lot of blessings and grace there in my life.
One of them being I found my husband, my sweetheart, and we got married. When my husband and I were engaged, we were doing our family planning. We were expecting that in a few years, we would start having children, especially after school. And so, as we agreed upon this, we both went to the temple together. And I received a distinct prompting that I needed to have a child immediately. And so, nine months later, literally nine months later, I gave birth to our little boy. So, we planned it, but also it wasn't part of the plan. Yeah.
So in terms of having a big family, I thought that because I got pregnant right away that this would be very simple to have a big family. And so we were in the plans and in the works of making that happen still. We had been trying for quite some time to have more children. And nothing was happening, which was a shock because we had our son right away. Why wasn't I getting pregnant again, quickly, like before? It already was a long day, I was tired from trying to balance life. In this pandemic, and working from home, when I received the news that it's highly likely that we won't have a family.
I realized quickly that the big gatherings, the big celebrations, the base-support system, that village-like mentality and experience slipped away from me – from hearing that news. And that fear of feeling like I would be alone and my son would be alone was very real. And the thing that I didn't want, was made more of a reality.
My conversations with Heavenly Father involved a lot of frustration, where I explained to Him, “I am confused why this is being denied for me, and I want answers.” And the answer that came to me was, “You need to look into the story of your ancestor, Taka Miyamoto,” who I'm named after.
And so I logged on to Family Search and I typed in her name, “Taka Miyamoto,” into a general search to see if there were any records that I did not have of her. And as I was scrolling through my search results, I saw that her name was listed under two death certificates. One death certificate naming two twins who both died as stillborns, and then the second death certificate was of another stillborn. And the dates were the same year. And as I saw those death certificates, my heart knew that her, her experience was – as heartbreaking as it was – I needed to find that connection to her through that experience, that her story was going to be the healing point for me to know that I was not alone in these hard times and in this heartache.
I knew then that God answered my prayer that, even though this was a good thing, even though having a family is a wonderful thing, that sometimes, even when things don't happen the way they you want them to, He's still there. He still loves us and is still, still has His hands outstretched towards us. That even in the trials and hardships we go through. We have – we've been blessed with resiliency from Him and from our ancestors.
Even though I don't know what she did after she had these traumatic experiences, I've just felt in my heart that she still carried herself through those hard times. She still picked herself up and moved forward because she knew she still has something to live for, which was the other children that she did have. The other people that she was around – her husband, her friends, the community. She was still there for them. And their stories of her being such a wonderful, wonderful grandmother, and loving her grandchildren and being present there for them. Even though she couldn't speak English that well – she only spoke Japanese – she still was present. Because she lived, because she carried herself through – I knew that this was a woman of resilience. I'm proud to be a descendant of her.
I like to say that I've inherited all of her resilience, but I know that her resilience needs to be shared with everybody else in the family too. But yeah, I like to believe that I've received and gladly have flowing within all the veins of my body, her resiliency, every last bit of it.
So recently in my research, I learned this concept of how my ancestors reckoned with time and space. And the way they viewed time was that the future was behind them, and the past was in front of them, so what has already happened is what we can see clearly. It is before us – as in – in front of us. But what we can't see is naturally behind us, we'd have to turn around to look, right? And so when it comes to my ancestors, because they have already gone before me, they are in front of me, guiding me and showing me what I cannot see, which is my future. They're, they're there to prepare me for what I can't see. They're there to teach me what they have already been taught. They're there to walk me through these things that are coming my way. And as I listen to them, and as I seek them out, our hearts are connected. And my ability to move and to endure through life is strengthened because they have done it already, and they're showing me the way. It's my job to listen, to be taught, and to hear them, and to follow them. They're right there in front of me.
Now, I think about the story my dad taught me, about the shark and the turtle – I think about it often. And now I know that my love for my family will carry me through any storm, will be there for me no matter what happens in my life. That as I am there swimming with my ancestors, through my life's journey, they will always be there with me. I'll never ever have to fear being alone. No matter how many children I have or don't have, they will always, always be there with me. Their love will carry me through anything in my life.
That was Miyamoto Jensen. I follow her Instagram account the Polynesian Genealogist and when I reached out to her about sharing a story on the podcast, I wasn't sure what theme would emerge from the story she had to tell. So we talked for a long time about her life and her family and her gifts, and there was this sacred moment in our conversation when she spoke of the Spirit’s gentle nudge towards the stories of her ancestors, and we both knew that that was the heart of her story.
I love how she described that our ancestors are behind us and before us. And though we're the progeny now, we will someday be the ancestors. And how we connect with God in the here and now is a gift from those who've come before us, and a gift to those who will come next.
You know, at this point, I've all but given up hope of that surprise, wealthy relative who makes me the sole beneficiary of an estate worth just enough money to pay off my student loans because I was the only one who remembered to send a birthday card last year. First of all, I'm terrible at remembering birthdays, so that would never actually happen. But also, if we've learned anything from today's stories, it's that expanding our definition of inheritance will draw us closer to our true destiny. Money, rings, land, desirable physical genetics, those really can be life changing. But when the prophets, and the scriptures, and the Savior tell us that we can inherit all that the Father has, they're not talking about a yacht. They aren't talking about a life of ease and creature comforts, and those mansions they refer to all the time – to be honest, I don't even think that's a thing in heaven. I don't think we'll even want it. I think when they talk about "All that the Father has," they're talking about us. They're talking about you, and they're talking about me – His family, His children. We are His work and His glory, and our eternal salvation is his holiest effort.
We're the whole reason that any of these things exist in the first place. These worlds, this organized matter. And when we receive our true inheritance, I think we're going to see that it has everything to do with becoming like Him in love for the whole human family. Can you imagine inheriting a heart that is able to fully love the way God's does? Or being given a singular focus towards the salvation of others instead of having to worry about our self-preservation? Now that's an inheritance I could really do something with.
And while we're here on earth, we practice to receive a perfect heart like Gods by consciously choosing to turn our own imperfect hearts, by forgiving and reconciling with our siblings, despite our own high emotions, by praying, hopefully to find the ring so that we can present it as a healing offering, by calling upon the shared faith and resilience of our ancestors to help us through our faithless moments. We practice and we practice and we practice some more, until we can start to see the shine of our true birthright, peeking through the earth dust.
I'm not getting a check any time soon. And I'm starting to be okay with that. Because if I can work towards that day, when I get to have all that the Father has, all that my Father has, then I believe that that work, and a little bit of grace will make His inheritance – the terms of his inheritance – everything I've ever wanted, and more.
That's it for this episode of This is the Gospel. Thank you to LuAnne, Jessie and Miya for sharing their inheritance and their stories with us.
We'll have pictures and more information about each of our storytellers in our show notes at ldsliving.com/thisisthegospel.
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You can find more information about the pitch line and how to put together a great pitch by going to our Instagram and finding the pitch line in the highlights. This episode was produced by me, KaRyn Lay, with additional story producing and editing by Erika Free and Kelly Campbell. It was scored, mixed and mastered by Mix at 6 Studios and our executive producer is Erin Hallstrom. You can find past episodes of this podcast and other LDS Living podcasts at ldsliving.com/podcasts.
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