A close family member of mine was ill. I was having money problems. I’d broken up with my serious boyfriend. I was full of indecision and frustration about the direction my life was going. And I was worried about my family.

So you could say I was maybe not having the best time.

The truth is, I was really struggling. I was never diagnosed, but it’s possible I was dealing with some depression; and everything seemed to be going wrong in my life. I couldn’t help but wonder when my time of trial would end. Surely, I said to myself, I’ve dealt with these things long enough. Surely, after years of hoping, longing for an end, surely I’m almost done.

I was not almost done.

Some of those things took months to resolve—most are still continuing. And one day I was at a low point, sitting in church on the uncomfortable pews and trying to listen to people bearing their testimony at the pulpit. Church had been hard for me over the past few months—especially because it reminded me of some of the things I was sad and disappointed about. I had always attended dutifully and was happy to see friends there, but I felt a distance from the Spirit and missed the closeness I’d had in the past with my Savior. I felt that my pain kept me from Him—as much as I tried to muscle my way past it by reading the scriptures or going to church, it was always waiting for me: my comfortable sadness.

I was ruminating on this during the meeting, as was my custom, when a woman shared her testimony. It was simple, nothing crazy or earth shattering. One thing I remember clearly was her expression of gratitude for the beautiful colors of the changing leaves in the trees. And I remember smiling, because I love the changing leaves too.