It's 5:15 a.m. on Sunday morning. I love the early morning. I like to sit in the pre-dawn dark and watch the hills gradually appear and the blacks and greys give way to subtle color. In Mink Creek, just before dawn, the birds and the insects are as loud as everyone in the foyer at church on Sunday morning greeting each other, asking what is new, how their week went, how the kids are, just a cacophony of cheery voices sharing snatches of their lives. But it's November and the birds are gone and the insects are dying in my kitchen windows. It's a peaceful quiet time, and I want to tell you the last two things that were needed before our dream could come true. These two principles are separate and powerful in their own right but when they are added together, the miraculous can happen. First, is the acknowledgement that there is a God and he knows and cares about you. He has a plan, you are part of it, but His timing isn't always your timing. Remember, the woman who told me the "secret" said "to keep looking but be patient." There is a scriptural equivalent for that advice and it is "Be still, and know that I am God." Being "still" is one of the hardest things for people to do. We want to think we can control things, fix things, hurry things. Waiting on the Lord is divine. It takes self-control and faith, but there is a rhythm in the universe and when we are in tune with it, the melody is extraordinary. During our waiting period, we learned the final secret, the principle that turns a dream into divine reality. We had been able to put away just a little bit of money each month for a down payment. It wasn't much. I honestly can't remember the amount, but that isn't important. It was less than $2,000, a paltry sum, as far as the banking community was concerned, but for us it was everything, our "widow's mite."
   One evening the bishop came to our apartment. He was a bit hesitant, but he said, "I have been asked to visit every home in the ward and give people an opportunity to donate some money to help build the Jordan River temple." He continued, "I know you kids haven't got much and I didn't want to ask you for anything, but if you think you can spare something, no matter how little, it would be appreciated. You take your time and think about it together and get back to me."
   We thought about it. Wynn suggested we decide separately and then discuss it. A couple of days passed and then, at night when we were driving home in our red Datsun station wagon and the kids had fallen asleep in the back seat, he asked me, "Well, what do you want to donate to the temple fund?" I looked over at him, trying to read his face in the dark. "All of it," I answered. "Oh good," he said, "me too."
   We took our donation to the bishop. "Are you sure?" he asked. We nodded, and I said, "I think if we help the Lord build his house then he will help us build ours."
    And that was the moment, the act that caused the cosmic scale to tip in our favor, when divine help was procured. Faith coupled with action causes things to happen, but when faith is coupled with active sacrifice, miracles happen. My sacrifices had gone from the desperate to the divine. It is in our extremities, when we let go, (it isn't giving up) and trust the Lord to take over that we experience his power and love in our lives.
   Jim Elsmore, a realtor, met me in Logan and drove me across the Idaho border and into the small farming community of Mink Creek. He showed me a couple of places. I was interested enough to bring Wynn on an excursion. He wasn't thrilled about the places, but he liked the area and suggested we drive up the highway further. "You're going about this all wrong," he said. "You should get in an area you like and then stop and ask a farmer if he has any land to sell."
   We stopped to look at an old log house by the side of the road. It had mortise and tenon joints at the corners. It also had "no trespassing" signs all over the fence, and Wynn wanted to get closer. I was trying to restrain him when we heard the approaching sound of a motor and our farmer came up over the hill on a tractor and drove right down to meet us. His name was Lynn Nelson, he actually lived in Smithfield and was just up for the day doing a little plowing. In the course of our twenty-minute conversation across the fence, Lynn Nelson changed our lives. When Wynn expressed an interest in looking at the house because he was a "log builder," Lynn's interest was peaked and he allowed us to crawl through the fence and look. When we told him we were up looking for a piece of property, he said he owned the piece across the street. "You go look at it," he said, "and maybe we could make a trade. You build me a log house and I'll give you the old house." When Wynn asked him what kind of work there was to do in Preston, Lynn said, "You'd make a good school teacher and they are always hiring school teachers." Twenty minutes and we had more direction given to us than we had received in the past six years.
   We made a u-turn and drove slowly back down the road to the old house. As we pulled down the two-track driveway, Wynn stopped by the creek and asked, "Do you feel like you're coming home?"
I was overcome. It was the most peaceful natural flood of feelings. I knew this place. It was familiar to me. "Oh yes," I said. "Oh yes!" And for the first time in my life, I was having a Mink Creek kind of day.