On a summer morning 10 years ago, I woke up early, sick with worry. “Call Megan,” were the words spoken to my mind.
So, I did. I called my older sister.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“I’m in the hills by mom and dad’s house,” she said in a shallow voice. “I can’t do this anymore I just can’t do this anymore,” she repeated over and over.
“I’m coming,” I told her. “Hold on. I’m leaving now.
Right then, we lost reception, and I didn’t know what to do. So I packed a bag of clothes, my two small children, and my very pregnant self into our minivan and made the three-hour drive to meet her in the hills near my parent’s home.
Image from ldschurchtemples.com
