Carthage Jail

I LOVE church history! I love to read and learn about the early saints who suffered so much for us. Every story is a little different, but each story has an unwavering testimony of the gospel. The struggles they each gone through. Some lost family members in Hauns Mill, some lost family members on the trek west. Some walked all the way from Nauvoo to Salt Lake City Utah- because they were driven out by mobs with guns. How would you explain things to your children? How would you be able to go on this trek knowing you could possibly lose many family members, or all of them and bury them in unmarked graves?

I question how they did it, but reading their testimonies answers my questions. They knew they needed to go for safety and so the gospel could be shared. They needed to build a new temple to enjoy those blessings. They knew with this last big test they would finally have the rest and peace they needed. Through their examples of faith- my testimony has been strengthened.

We left Wednesday night and drove halfway to Nauvoo. We didn't want to risk Baylee falling asleep and then waking up with a second wind of energy. Thursday we got up and went to Carthage to see the jail. I haven't been since I was a little girl, but I remember visiting the jail and the feelings of sadness and thankfulness. Lexi and Ashlee listened and understood what had happened there. Carly understood a little, and Bays liked the echo of her voice in each room.

We were lucky to have Brother Sweat as our Missionary tour guide of the jail. He is our old Bishop's (Isabell) father in law. I know some think our religion is a little different. But I have no doubt that our Heavenly Father did appear to Joseph Smith. Joseph Smith was an incredible man- I can't even imagine the heart aches, persecution, and loss he felt at times. But he never stopped trusting the Lord. He knew he had an important work to do.

To walk in the jail where Joseph, Hyrum, Willard Richards, and John Taylor were kept- there is an amazing tangible spirit there.

I can't even explain the feelings I felt when we went in the room where they were actually martyred. Touching the bullet hole in the door that killed Hyrum. Looking out the window that Joseph fell out of.

It was an incredible afternoon that I hope my kids never forget. Darrell and I felt the spirit so strongly. It's hard to put into words the feelings and impressions we had. I am so thankful for these early saints- and for all their sacrifices. I am thankful for a Prophet who listened and had so much courage to stand up for what he knew to be true. I know that we belong to the true church. I know that I have a Savior who knows me personally and loves me. I know I have a Heavenly Father that cares for me and family. I am so thankful for the blessings of the temples. To know my family is an eternal family- what can be greater then that?