Although I read Mosiah 8 this morning, that’s not going to be my focus, but rather my awe at the Spirit of the Book of Mormon. I read it as I raised my children, and we read as a family, even though it was a struggle at times. I have marveled that, as a Grandma, my grandchildren have all been very respectful of my personal time in the scriptures – even 2-year-old Gage who is still quite impatient in having his needs met. He wakes up way too early and it is nearly impossible to be finished before he’s up for the day. Several times he and Micah have walked in while I was reading. I whispered softly that this is my scripture time and to please let me finish reading and then we would get something to eat. They whisper back to me their response, and anything else they have to say until I'm finished. This has happened with all my grandchildren at one time or another. They sit quietly until I have finished. You have to know these little spirits to realize just what an accomplishment that is – and why I am in awe. Nine-year-old Tanner frequently will ask if he can wake up and read the scriptures with me. I believe it is just some of the power that is in the scriptures.
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