What a powerful experience that shows the need for missionaries everywhere.
In January 2013, the week after my mother died, I came down with a high fever. I could feel a deep fatigue starting even before her funeral but managed to stave off the illness until the service was over – when it descended quickly and mercilessly.
I’ve written before about the small miracle story that ensued: that when I was ill and helpless and wishing for a priesthood blessing, two LDS missionaries showed up at the door of my mom’s house. At first I thought they might be there because my bishop or home teacher back in Cincinnati had asked someone from the local ward to check up on me, but it soon became apparent that was not the case. No one had contacted them, and they had no idea who would be behind that door.