President Russell M. Nelson has told us to seek and to expect miracles.  As I sit here in my warm living room on this Sunday morning (18 December 2022) I realize that I am surrounded by miracles.

I got up this morning and read a chapter in the Book of Mormon.  That book, and the way that I found it, are miracles.  My testimony of that book and of the restoration of the gospel are miracles.

I have minutely indexed 54 years of general conference and compiled every story told in that setting over that period of time into seven volumes.  The fact that I've done that is a miracle.  I didn't know that I had it in me.  I didn't set out to do such a thing, but little by little I accomplished it.  I sat here this morning wondering again how I could share these treasures with the Church.  I'd like to donate them, if the Church could use them, but I don't know who to ask or how to do it.

I picked up the current Liahona magazine, and looked to see who the editor is.  November's and December's editions have different editors.  I ended up reading the entire current magazine.  I've noticed that I don't read much in the Church magazines any more.  I enjoyed reading this one, but the books that I've written myself are much more inspirational.  The fact that I can write, and enjoy doing so, is a miracle.  I hope that someday, somehow, my posterity can be inspired by, and come to love, my books.

A little over two months ago I had knee replacement surgery.  My knee is not yet anywhere near as good as it was before surgery.  I'm frustrated that I have to be aware of that knee with every step, but the fact that such surgery was possible, and available, is a miracle.  I'll go into old age in better shape than I otherwise would have done.

This time last year Marjorie was in a rapid downhill slide into dementia.  It was terrifying.  On about this date last year she began taking memantine and donepezil.  The doctor said that it might slow the decline.  It reversed it.  It's a miracle.  She previously was unable to follow a recipe or to understand a sewing pattern.  She now cooks confidently.  Yesterday she created a beautiful, hooded, red cape to give to 3-year-old Myra on this, her birthday.  It's gorgeous.  Marjorie is also nearing completion of the fifth crocheted baby blanket that she's recently made for the five babies joining our family over an eight-month period.  Marjorie taught herself how to crochet.  She is also making each baby a nightgown.

Marjorie still has memory problems.  She just asked me in a rising voice, “Who is our prophet?”

“Russell M. Nelson, “ I said.  “Oh, yes,” she responded as she remembered.

This sort of question is the new normal.  I'll mention something about a grandchild, and then I'll see her struggling to understand.  She'll say, “Who's Ammon?” or “Who's Elijah?” or “Who's Ezra?”  She has asked a similar question about every one of her children's families.  I jog her memory, and then she's clear again.

It is a miracle that she's as clear-minded as she is.  She's happy and productive and takes good care of me.  I take good care of her, too.  I make sure that she gets her medications night and morning, otherwise she'd never remember to take them.

I have numerous other miracles that are current and which need recording, but I must now hurry and get ready for church.  I'll then be giving two patriarchal blessings.  Giving those blessings may be the biggest miracle of all.  I am worried each week about whether or not I can do it.  Then I'm astounded when I've done it.  I transcribe them, and I'm amazed all over again that the system works, and that I'm allowed to do this.