Loss for Words

So.
My friend, Heather, just spoke something really deep. I didn't know she had that in there. The empty sorry's, the meaningless words. She truly is spectacular. I look up to you, Heather!

I have some stuff to say. It might not be as amazing as Heather's seriousness, but it's good enough. I just barely got back from Girls Camp, and it was one of the most strongest times I've felt of the spirit in my life. That night before I left for Girls Camp, my mom told me some news that she was dreading. My sister was getting surgery in her mouth because she had a lot of cavities. My sweet, innocent, cute, four year old baby sister was getting surgery. And they weren't even--I guess you could say, "putting her under--all the way so she would still be conscious. I was terrified. I wasn't going to be there for her. I felt guilty for leaving and not helping her get through the scary experience and giving her hugs and kisses and letting her know it will be okay. I felt like I was abandoning her. I seriously considered skipping the second day of Girls Camp just to be there for her. So I locked myself in my room and I prayed. I prayed harder than I ever had in my life, just for my baby sister. I was scared. When I first started the prayer I started to cry because I was so nervous and scared. The most terrifying part of it all was that she didn't even know. She didn't know that people would be going into her mouth, that she would have to get IV's, and she especially didn't know that her big sister, me, and her mom were not even going to be there because we were going to Girls Camp. I was sobbing in the prayer. I begged my Heavenly Father that He would bless her that she would not be scared or nervous, and that the surgery would go well. I almost didn't think twice about blessing myself to be safe at Girls Camp because my thoughts were specifically on her. I cried out, and I poured my faith into Jesus. I had the faith that she would be okay, so I knew she would. But I still prayed hard. By the time I was finished, the Spirit filled me up so full that I felt like I could fly. I felt weightless; as if a huge burden was lifted off my shoulders. I still didn't stop crying, though. I was crying because I was happy. I knew that she would be okay, and I stopped worrying. I seriously went to bed with tears streaming down my face and smiling my head off. She was going to be okay, and I knew it. At Girls Camp when it was testimony meeting, I stood up. My knees were knocking, I was so scared. After my first five words I was already bawling because I bore my testimony on Laney and her surgery and how my prayer was one--no, the strongest--I've ever done. I felt the Spirit engulf me, and it came out as tears during that fire-light night. By the time I was finished with my testimony, I felt so happy and warm inside. And when I got home, Elena was fine. She was happy to see me, and even showed me the puppy dog Band-Aides the "nice doctor gave me!" I knew that she was in good hands.