Please bear with me today. My heart is full. Actually, if I hadn't already used the title, "Don't Worry, Be Happy," in my last post, I'd have used it today.
 
A little over an hour ago, I returned home from the funeral of a dear, dear friend, Anne Creager. She has been in my writing critique group for the past several years, and after regularly meeting with her (sometimes monthly, often weekly), we (Josi Kilpack, Jody Durfee, Becki Clayson, and I) got to know Anne in a way we will always cherish. True, we aren't members of her family or even her closest inner circle—perhaps—but I feel we got to know her on a deeper level than most people get to because we frequently read each other's work and unselfishly helped each other progress through the various feedback and experience we shared. There is something innately personal about putting words on paper. It is, in many ways, a reflection of who we are inside; it is the fruits of our thoughts. Because of this connection, we all knew Anne was beautiful both inside and out. I always marveled at her ability to describe settings in a way I not only saw but also felt it's beauty. Kind of like when I stand above a lush, mountain canyon turned red and gold from fall. The coolness in the air and the glories of nature seem to breathe beauty through me. That's how good Anne's writing was. That's how good Anne is.

Anne is also strong. At her funeral, someone mentioned her determination to do the right thing—to be good. We, too, saw that in her. After Anne learned she had melanoma and would leave her young family far too soon, she began to try attain dreams she'd always wanted. Most of them surrounded what she wanted to do and say and be for her family, but part of her still yearned to write. So, she combined those dreams and worked to use her talents to bless her family. She maintained a blog in which she shared her struggles with cancer, expressed her joy in being a wife and mother, and testified of her love for God and His gospel. She wrote numerous letters to her daughters to be given to them on their birthdays over the ensuing years. She wrote articles for the church magazines. She wrote a picture book which described her experience with losing her hair through her cancer treatments. She began to write a book for girls, one that could help her daughters and others find peace and understanding as they matured. BUT even though these pursuits took part of her precious time, she rigorously kept them within the bounds of what was most important. One specific event stands out in my mind.

Last April, she took the time away from her family to attend the LDS Storymaker's conference with Josi, Becki, and I. We "girls" really enjoyed our time together and loved getting to know each other better. Anne was also blessed with the opportunity (due to the charitable acts of other authors) to "pitch" her books to an agent and an editor.

However, during one class near the end of the conference, the presenter put a time line on the board, helping us see how long the publishing process generally takes. The majority of time was expressed in years. When Anne saw that, she paled, looked down at the table in front of her, and said, "I don't feel very well."

"Is it because of the time?" I whispered.

She nodded, gulped, gathered her things, and shortly thereafter, returned home. I teared up. Anne did what was most important.

Now, after all that, why would I title this post "Don't Worry, Be Happy?" Because Anne succeeded. Living in this world, especially at times like this, it's difficult to keep an eternal perspective; but the truth is, Anne endured to the end—happily and beautifully. She fulfilled her purpose on this earth with dignity and virtue. She has returned home to God as a faithful, pure, and righteous woman. What more could any of us, in the eternal scheme of things, want?