Two years ago I woke up on Memorial Day in the hospital. The night before, my water had broken and I'd rushed to the hospital to have a baby three weeks early. I know I've already written about Little Dude's birth on here, and I probably talk about it way too much, but I think it will always be one of those life-defining moments for me. Today in church we were talking about the temple, and one of the things mentioned was that the temple is a place to learn more about the mysteries of God. We often think that the mysteries of God are the big things, like the location of Kolob, but we also have our own personal mysteries. God's mercy and help in Little Dude's birth will always be a mystery to me, especially since I know people who have lost babies in similar circumstances. I don't know why his life was spared, or mine, especially when there is so much suffering in the world. So on Memorial Day I ponder all the mysteries in my life--my friends and family members who died before we were ready to let them go, people I know who suffer in physical and emotional pain, those who don't have enough money, those that have too much money, and so on. I don't have many answers at all. But I, like Nephi, know that God loves all of his children. And I know that without mysteries there would be no need for faith.