Well, I had a really stellar day yesterday. Marc and I went up to my favorite place on the planet, Estes Park, and climbed a mountain to Gem Lake. It was a long climb, and we kept turning corners saying things like, "We must be getting close," only to find out that we actually had quite a ways to go still. The Aspen trees were all bare, and dead leaves littered the path. Intermittently, we'd reach open spaces where you can see one range of mountains tucked behind another and fading into the horizon. Each view seemed more breathtaking than the last. Finally, we passed between two rather large escarpments of rock and there was Gem Lake, a green pond flanked on two sides by cliffs. The sun just peeked out from behind a cloud, making the lake sparkle like a jewel while black birds soared and circled above the peaks of the cliffs. We climbed a big rock and sat for a long time, just thinking about how good God is, that he should make such beauty and let us enjoy it. I'm so thankful for Marc, that I can have days like that with him.

On my way home last night, I had what was probably one of the best prayer times of my life. Alone in my car, I didn't stay silent as I usually do in solitary prayer; instead, I talked aloud and cried and bellowed and sang.

It's difficult to describe what one person can mean to you, but it's even more difficult to try and explain a relationship with the living and all-powerful God. One of the questions on my mission application is something like, "Describe your relationship with God." I feel intimidated by the question. I could say the things we do together, or the things we talk about, but it doesn't come close to describing what we have together. There are no words for what happens between us. It's too powerful. It's too big.