Santa Comes Early to Grandparents!

We figured Santa would be busy enough visiting our twelve wonderful grandchildren tonight, so he came to our home this evening! As I write this post on Christmas Eve at five minutes to twelve, I'm wearing my soft baby blue p.j.s my husband gave me, and I'm tickled about the gift card—I'm rich! Well, certainly rich in blessings!!!! Ron plugged in his new Norelco so he can have a good shave in the morning too! We waited to open some of our children's gifts so they can share the fun. I also took Ron to the movies this afternoon after he took me to the temple this morning! We saw “The Blindside.” I'm glad I had a pocket full of Kleenex for my cold, 'cause I cried like a baby nearly the whole movie! Everyone needs to see this movie. We definitely want to buy this one. If you've seen this movie then you might understand my sadness in my last post for people caught in poverty. REAL POVERTY—and why a toy for a tot at Christmas is a drop in the bucket of the needs of people in deep poverty. The movie is beautiful and ends on such a high! And, it's based on a very true story!

Then tonight I read a review in Meridian Magazine (I love this online magazine) about Dickens "A Christmas Carol." This amazing story opened the eyes of the people of his time to the cruelty and poverty of Dickens world, and probably gave birth to the idea of giving to the poor at Christmas time. Society has come such a long, long way in caring for the poor, but watching this movie today illustrates that there is still such a long way to go. When all the poor are cared for the way "Big Mike" was, then we will have Zion! It made me realize why I just can't participate in Sub for Santa's—the need is SO MUCH BIGGER than that, and I can't do what Sandra Bullock did for Big Mike. I feel too small for the enormity of the problem and terrified that I might do more harm than good by a pittance at Christmas time!

If that wasn't enough (I've never had such time on my hands on Christmas Eve before) tonight, I decided to read through a few old journal entries. I haven't been a great journal keeper — not a consistent one for sure — but I ran into this one from

January 26, 1998: "Well, I haven’t written in my journal for a very long time. Becky is in Florida with Kristi and Ron and I are alone. Just on an impulse I stopped by to look at an Ivory home again. It was lovely and upstairs was a magnificent master suite, with three other bedrooms. A nursery, a little boys room, and a little girls room. As I slowly passed through them I felt waves of nostalgia— I will never need a home like this again in this life. My children are nearly raised. The future stretches out before me, and the same question my children are asking becomes mine, “What shall I do when I grow up?” I may only be half-finished with my life! (Of course I could die tomorrow—one never knows.) But, if I live, forty-seven more years is a long time. Ron asked (I think almost sincerely) if we should adopt more children. But, I don’t think that is what the Lord would have me do now. I don’t think I could go through all that again. I know I have learned many, many things—but . . .I’m more inclined to think I’d better just pass them on to the good of my grandchildren! Anyway, I think I would like to write! Really write! Write such gripping and well told stories, that they hook people, and then bear a powerful witness of the Savior and His plan! Just knock the reader over! And then lift him to heaven! Make people go away from a book of mine feeling good—really, really good about life, with a resolve to live better, serve better, trust the Lord more completely, and most of all to turn to Him for their consolation! That’s what my desire is—to bring souls unto Christ!—with the power of the written word. I prayed that the Lord would give me this gift so that I might serve Him. Now I feel that I must write something everyday—practice if you will, before He would ever grant such a gift to me. So begins the day!"

Little did I know that just one year later my son would have chosen to end his life, and my heart would literally be broken in every way, and then only two months later I would have open heart surgery for a hole in my heart that had been causing mini-strokes for the last several years. It took a long, long time to heal physically, especially since I had the surgery AGAIN the next year. Compared to my grief, it was easy to heal a broken heart physically. It's been ten years! For most of them I didn't even so much as write a letter until my daughter encouraged me to start this blog. Did I really ever feel that way about writing? Such passion! Now, it really doesn't matter. I just want to do what the Lord would have me do — whatever that is — WHATEVER that is! Whatever shall I do with my life when/if I grow up? What?

The Other Side of Christmas

There is another side of Christmas which is so hard for the poor, the downhearted, the discouraged and the lonely. I have to hold my childhood memories of Christmas at a far, far distance to keep them from engulfing me in the old gloom. I have to be so careful of well meaning Christmas stories. At the end of November a dear friend gave me a Christmas book entitled "Small Change." My first impression was that I should set it aside, at least for another season (other than Christmas) but my friend had given the book to me and so I read it. Oh my. I should have listened to my first impressions. So, the first part of this month started out with the painful old memories of my childhood; but slowly, the beauty of the season wrapped it's comforting arms around me as I reflected on all the things I have learned to LOVE about Christmas!

I love the music, I love the lights, I love my family gathered around. I love the gifts shared with loved ones, the cookies from neighbors, the shine in children's eyes, the Christmas program in church,and most of all the story of Jesus! I love all these things because I am on that beautiful side of Christmas now! And, this year I love the night I got to spend with my own flesh and blood sisters, with whom I was not raised, but am now just beginning to know! (And I love them!) We attended BYU's Christmas of Dance from around the world together. It was beautiful and warm and I felt loved.

I can say that I am glad that my friend shared this book with me because it has made me think again about writing "The Other Side of Christmas!" Most people will wonder what wasn't wonderful about the book "Small Change." It did have a good message, but my friend didn't have a clue that it would affect me like it did and I don't think she quite understands now. I know it hurt her very much to think she had caused me pain by giving me this gift. I should not have told her how it effected me, but I wanted her to understand. (I love my friend very much!)

Every year I've had this need to help people understand how hard it is for the poorest of the poor at this time of year especially. In my novel "Joy Outweighs The Sorrow" I coined the phrase, "the only real poverty is spiritual" and that's the worst kind of poverty to have at Christmas time. It's one of those things, that unless you've lived it, you would never understand. I have thought every Christmas that I need to write about "the other side of Christmas" to somehow help others understand, but I never do. I end up getting past that painful part of Christmas and then go on with my life.

Our neighbor and former bishop now works for the LDS Church heading the humanitarian division of the welfare program. He told us how the church has added Caring for the Poor as the fourth leg of the mission of the Church---along with, Proclaiming the Gospel, Perfecting the Saints and Redeeming the Dead. That is wonderful and exciting because it will bring us closer to Zion---closer to the time when we will have "no poor among us!" There is a way to care for the poor that lifts the "arms that hang down" but it ONLY works when done in the Lord's way!

“I would that ye should do alms unto the poor,” the Savior declared, “but take heed that ye do not your alms before men to be seen of them; otherwise ye have no reward of your Father who is in heaven” (3 Ne. 13:1; see also Matt. 6:1–2). I would add that unless we do alms for the poor in secret as the Savior counseled and out of the "true charity" of our hearts, or in other words with the "pure love of Christ" the adversary of us all will use the alms done to be seen of men, to do far more harm, and cause the poor to sink more deeply into despair and hopelessness!

In the book "Small Change" the author helps the protagonist find a solution to giving alms in secret, by using their church pastor dressed as Santa Claus as the vehicle. It sounds lovely, but it is wrong---so wrong. Only someone who is on "the other side of Christmas" could understand why that simply doesn't work and still hurts! That is what I wanted my friend to understand. Santa Claus is not our Savior! I testify that only Jesus of Nazareth, can save us---from sin, from sorrow, and from poverty of even the worst kind! And only Jesus Christ can teach us how to properly care for the poor as we progress toward Zion---where the pure in heart dwell, and where we will have no poor among us!

Create

What Is Love?

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, 'What does love mean?' The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:

'When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.' Rebecca- age 8

'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.' Billy - age 4

'Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.' Karl - age 5

'Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.' Chrissy - age 6

'Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.' Terri - age 4

'Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.' Danny - age 7

'Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss' Emily - age 8

'Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.' Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)

'If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,' Nikka - age 6 (we need a few million more Nikka's on this planet)

'Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.' Noelle - age 7

'Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.' Tommy - age 6

'During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.' Cindy - age 8

'My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.' Clare - age 6

'Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.' Elaine-age 5

'Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.' Chris - age 7

'Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.' Mary Ann - age 4

'I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.' Lauren - age 4

'When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.' (what an image) Karen - age 7

'You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.' Jessica-age 8

And the final one -- Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, 'Nothing, I just helped him cry'

A Few Times I've Seen "His" Image

Last week I was at DSW shoe store and noticed a tiny beautiful grey haired lady. We smiled as we passed each other and I had to turn around and watch her for a moment. Then as I was trying on a pair of shoes she startled me by giving her opinion of them. We struck up a conversation and I commented on her delightful accent. She was born and raised in England, but moved to Salt Lake in the 70's after joining the church. I wish I'd had a camera to capture "Ettie's" sweet face. This little woman in her eighties goes about doing good. After hearing of the divorces of some of the royal family in England, Ettie actually wrote a letter of encouragement to the Queen, telling her that under her difficult circumstances, Ettie believed she had been a good mother. The Queen of England graciously wrote back expressing appreciation for the encouragement. I could imagine gracious little Ettie being comfortable around the Queen and equally comfortable in the most humble shack. She made ME feel so wonderful, I walked out of that store feeling like a queen myself!

She reminded me of an old man I met in China in 2006 when Ron and I were privileged to visit Beijing and Xian on a company convention. We were in Beijing, rushing as a large group through Jingshan Park down a covered walkway, when I passed this old man riding slowly on a curious, oversized tricycle. He smiled up at me and I immediately felt wonder—I felt loved. I felt a safe, warm, electric connection and I wondered who he was. I stopped to take his picture and then he held my hand and patted it and looked into my soul with his wise old beautiful, light filled eyes! This all happened within moments and then Ron was there pulling me away—away from a timeless place, far removed from the bustle and noise—to rejoin our group before we became separated. I felt the glow for hours.

These rare and memorable encounters remind me of a quote from C.S. Lewis: "There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts civilization—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a knit. But it is immortals with whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors . . . your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses. It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship . . . ~C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory, (1949)

These encounters also remind me of Alma 5:14: "And now behold, I ask of you my brethren of the church, have ye spiritually been born of God. Have ye received his image in your countenances? Have ye experienced this mighty change in your hearts?"

A few times in my life I have truly seen "His" image!

Life Is A Blessing

Ron and I watched a movie tonight (in between trick or treaters) about a Dr. who went to Calcutta, India to escape his life. He'd lost a young patient and intended never to practice medicine again. While there his wallet was stolen and he was stranded for three weeks waiting for a new passport and funds. Of course he ended up befriending the local people and helping out the local medical clinic whose Dr. had left, and in the process found he had never been happier.

I was so moved by the poverty and hardship of the people's lives and amazed by the cruelty and inhumanity of some people. Lately I've been thinking about how corrupt almost all of this world's societies have been. Most people that have ever lived, have been enslaved by wicked, power hungry, selfish and brutal men; only a few times in the history of the world have there been perfect and happy societies. It makes me so sad. I've wondered how Heavenly Father can stand the grief.

While watching the movie I nearly cried as I wondered why some people were born into such poverty and hardship, but then, I had the most distinct and amazing thought that their circumstances are NOT a punishment but a blessing.

"A blessing?" I questioned in wonder.

I received an immediate and again distinct answer, "Yes — for all that experience will be "but a moment" and will serve them well through all of eternity.

Amazing! Our Heavenly Father truly loves His children as He watches over them, comforts them, weeps with them and rejoices over their triumphs! Truly ALL things will work together for our good if we but love the Lord. I feel better tonight — about the world. There are bullies here, but most people are humble and good, and even the bullies are loved by their Heavenly Father and are learning wonderful lessons. Again I am comforted that one day "every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess that Jesus is the Christ!"

I Can't Count My Blessings!

My goodness. I started counting my blessing this morning and my cup is running over! Isn't fall just the most beautiful season? But, then there is the new beauty of spring and of course the quiet rest and stillness of winter! Ah, but can anything surpass a summer rose? I love this beautiful world the Lord has given us!

Christ as Our Forerunner

Whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus, made an high priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec. Hebrews 6:20

This morning I read a post on Donna's blog "Connections" about Christ as our Forerunner. "A forerunner is an extremely picturesque and evidently ancient calling. He may now be seen to the best advantage in the large towns of Egypt. When rich people drive or ride abroad, a servant attends them, called, a sais, or groom, whose duty it is to run on foot at some distance in front of his master’s horse or carriage."

According to Donna this runner clears the way in the busy crowded streets, opens gates, announces and waits upon their master. As I contemplate the Savior of the Universe doing something like this for me, it takes my breath away! I seem at a loss for words to express myself. It truly is something amazing to contemplate and gives us an insight into how the Lord views us and our potential! I cannot help but think of the temple and what we learn about there.

I recommend going to Donna's site to read her entire post. For me it is an incredibly deeper insight into "Christ as our advocate with the Father!"

http://donna-connections.blogspot.com/2009/10/christ-as-foreunner.html

Utopia/Zion

Almost thirty years ago when we lived in Denver, Brother Daniel Ludlow taught a class that I took. I can't remember much about it except that he said something that has stuck with me through the years. He said that if you want to know what will soon come to pass in the Lord's Kingdom, then listen carefully to what the adversary is about. For instance, before Joseph Smith had the first vision, there was a religious revival going on which was confusing and divisive. Before the blacks received the priesthood the world was stirred up over the civil rights movement. He said in essence that satan gets there first to distort people's thinking and to try and thwart the Lord's plan---to present a counterfeit if you will.

Today we are hearing a great divide in our nation and the world. It really is the war in heaven still raging. I just heard a commentator on the radio accuse a liberal caller of wanting a Utopia that will never work because she didn't believe in freedom. To want the government to redistribute everyones money by taking from the rich and giving to the poor will destroy incentive and take away everyone's prosperity (I agree). Satan uses many truths to present one distortion, such as gross inequality in the world is wrong (with which I also agree) but then he presents a false plan to equalize the problem. However, the reason the "Utopia" of the adversary will never work is one word---force---satan's counterfeit for Zion. Sir Winston Churchill said, "Socialism is a philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy, its inherent virtue is the equal sharing of misery."

The Lord's plan WILL work because when people choose to work together for the good of everyone in their community there really will be "no poor among us" and we will be happy like the Nephites after the coming of Christ! I have heard it stated that it takes a MORAL people to have a representative government like we in the United States are blessed to have (which almost everyone agrees is certainly hanging by a thread) but a Zion government will take nothing less than a people with pure hearts and perfectly righteous minds, united as one!

I haven't thought of Brother Ludlow's comment for years, but this morning it came into my mind as I realized how much of this stuff we've been hearing. We've just been blessed to hear again the Lord's plan of happiness for His children during Conference! Our Bishop said this last Sunday, that he prayed for Zion in our ward and that we should strive for it in our families and that we CAN create in within ourselves, right here, right now! How exciting! I really do believe that the time is coming (oh please let it be soon) that we will ALL live in peace and prosperity together in Zion!

Sharing Family Stories of Faith

This is a link to an article in Meridian Magazine about sharing family stories. Anne you would especially like it I think!

http://www.meridianmagazine.com/turninghearts/100709history.html

Friendship

A few times in my life I have had an unlikely friendship with someone so different from myself and yet for some reason we have truly loved each other. This video is a good reminder to look beyond our comfort zones and maybe---just maybe find and treasure the most wonderful thing called friendship!

A Good Book!

I don't have time to post much, but I cannot leave without telling you about the best book! I don't think I've ever felt the spirit so strong in a book I've read in a very long time, and this is a work of fiction! The book is "The Great Gathering" by Chad Daybell. It is a series of what will be five books, with the third just being released this month. I checked out the first two from the library and bought the newest for my trip. I can hardly make myself leave it alone so I have something to read on the plane.

Anyway, I've had such strong feelings about this subject for the last forty years! All I can say is read it! I really want to discuss it with someone, so be sure to comment and call me. See you next week!

Costa Rica!

We leave on Saturday for my husband's company convention in Costa Rica!

Queen Bee

Saturday night we went to a gathering of funeral directors. (Ron sells pre-need funeral plans and property.) While there we got talking to an old friend and somehow got on the subject of bees. In Arizona where he was raised, his scoutmaster kept beehives. So, he acquired two of his own. In one of his hives the bees were so mean and aggressive that he could hardly work with them. His scoutmaster and mentor told him to remove and kill the ill tempered Queen Bee and order a new one which he did. After about a month with the new Queen, which is the lifespan of a bee, the bees became so calm and docile that he almost could have handled them without protection. He then paid his wife a wonderful compliment on the tone of love and cooperation she had set for their home, and we all agreed how important it is to be a leader and the effect of that leadership on everyone! I wish I had always been that good of an influence on those I lead and love, but this story of the cranky Queen will help me remember that "when Mamma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!

Thespian Society

I woke with an interesting dream. I had formed a little thespian group for children and in my dream I was directing them. That was curious and it helped me remember that about twenty-five years ago I wrote and directed a play for our ward in Green Mountain, Colorado. I cannot even remember how it came about. (I must have opened my mouth at a Ward Council Meeting or something) I had certainly NEVER acted in, wrote, or directed a play before in my life! It was during the bicentennial of our nation. I had read several articles that moved me to my core. One was written in the Readers Digest and the other in the Ensign---all about the founding of this sacred nation and the writing of Constitution of the United States. My stage set was Constitution Hall, and the cast consisted of all men of course. In the back corners of the stage I incorporated scenes from the Book of Mormon and the Prophet Joseph Smith. Ron even played the part of a Nephite! He looked so good with his hairy legs showing! (Can you believe that I enticed my cute shy husband to do that!) Anyway, I just knew, I somehow knew how to spotlight those scenes, while dimming the lights on the frozen men in Philadelphia. Then they would come to life and the scenes of prophecy would black out, and so on, back and forth. It ended with a parade of cast members bursting in from the doors on either side of the cultural hall carrying the flag and singing "Mine Eyes Have Seen The Glory of the Coming of The Lord!" The entire production was a testimony of Jesus Christ and the divine nature of this land, the founding of our nation, and the second coming of our Lord and Savior. It moved many to tears!

The curious thing is that I somehow KNEW how to pull all of this off. With absolutely no prior training or experience, yet it was somehow so familiar. As though I'd had that experience. I knew how to draw out the actors and get them to give me what I wanted. I knew what I wanted from lighting, and the costumes---well, there was a lady in our ward who had a stash of them including wigs. It was marvelous. I've never done anything like it since. I had literally forgotten that I ever had. It was one of the most exciting things I've ever done, and this mornings dream has me remembering the whole curious and remarkable thing. I remembered thinking at the time that surely I had participated in something similar in the life before and I had a strong feeling that I would do so again, but I'm quite certain it will be in the next life!

I've thought of all the things I haven't done (like design and build my own home, write another book, build furniture in my own woodworking shop, really learn to be a photographer, sculpt, paint, make a movie, etc., etc. etc.) and probably won't and can't do in this life, but each time I feel a twinge of regret, I am deeply assured that we have eons to live and enough time for all those things in the eternities.

You are all invited to the beautiful home I will someday build, which will be filled with sculpture and paintings and furniture that I have designed and built. (And you know Ron will stop running long enough for a party so he'll be there too!) Mostly I hope our home is filled with love! And, be sure and visit long enough to see my movies and plays!

Morning Poem

When I die, no "in lieu of" for me
Give me FLOWERS, in all their variety!

Bonnie H

Grandma Rose

I don't know, maybe I'm obsessed with flowers. I can't seem to drink in enough of their beauty! Usually by this time of year though I'm tired of the garden, it's hot and I just maintain without the enthusiasm of early spring! But because I'm entertaining my daughter and her new husband next week, and inviting a few of our friends into our yard to celebrate with them, I've been continually working in the yard. I actually laid a bit of sod today! As I was trimming the roses I cut a few old ones to throw away, when I noticed how beautiful the older roses really are. At closer glance, though they are starting to wilt, they have a kind of beauty so different than the new healthy buds and the flowers in their perfect prime. They are softer somehow and they seem to open themselves up so wide, as though accepting the world, accepting their place in time, and inviting anyone willing, to listen to their wisdom, and bask in their serenity. They made me want to snuggle into their soft fragile bosom and find respite from the cares and demands of the world---soft, sweet, lovely Grandma Roses!

Morning Flowers!

Beautiful Flowers - Beautiful Night

I wrote this post on July 29th and I'm finally publishing it tonight.

Today I bought some ragtag, leftover flowers at Walmart, and put them together in hanging baskets. I hung them in the empty space by our swimming pool where we had to remove a diseased tree and some shade flowers under the apple tree. They look so happy tonight. I had to visit them just before I went to bed. The night was warm and comforting and beautiful, and as I stepped outside I was greeted with the sweet scent of my huneysuckle and a loud chirping cricket! My little pots of leftover flowers looked so much happier than when I brought them home. I think the Miracle Grow is already reviving them! This week I have felt like the "leftover" flowers, but as I tended to the least of His flowers today, Heavenly Father worked His own loving, comforting miracle in my heart. I'm also grateful for dear friends who tenderly minister to me and love me! Thank You!

I took the pictures tonight. What a difference ten days of love has made to those "marked down" rescued flowers. Doesn't it make you want to sit on the lawn swing by the apple tree and talk into the warm night about wonderful things? Can you smell the honeysuckle, and hear the crickets!

How I love my Heavenly Father who gave us flowers to “gladden our heart!”

Father

(Posted by Donna B. Nielsen on her blog "Connections.")

"Throughout the silent years Jesus was learning the meaning of family life. The name for God which came most naturally to the lips of Jesus was Father; and the very use of that word is itself a very beautiful compliment to Joseph. It was said of Martin Luther that he hesitated to pray the Lord’s Prayer and to say “Our Father,” because his own father had been so stern, so unbending, so unsympathetic that the word “father” was not a word which he loved. To Jesus the name “father” was the most natural and the most precious name for God, and it was in the home at Nazareth that he must have learned the meaning of that word."

Reading of Martin Luther's harsh negative experience with the word "Father" made me stop and ponder my own experience with the word. If anyone should have a negative connotation of the word I should. I never knew my "real father" as I always called him in my mind. He left us before I turned two years old. The only thing I ever knew about him was my grandmother's comment when my brother or I did something wrong, "You are just like your dirty rotten, no-good father!" (I don't think she liked him)

Well that made a kid feel good. But, I never actually called anyone father, the word was not in my vocabulary. I called my step-father Jim. And, that word "Jim" makes me flinch like Martin Luther trying to say "Our Father." The word father to me has ALWAYS meant my Father in Heaven. I heard about Him the first time when I was ten years old hiding behind the old wood stove when the missionaries came to teach Jim. I felt the spirit bear witness to me that these kind, gentle, stake missionaries were telling the truth! I received a testimony of the gospel that has never left and which has sustained me all the days of my life since then. (That was nearly fifty years ago!)

Donna's post sent me to Psalms 68:6, but it was verse 5 that caught my attention: "A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation." Heavenly Father TRULY always was and is my Father! The name is sacred and precious and fills me with warmth, and love. I have a lifetime of memories of peace and comfort in times of trial, and memories of gratitude and love for more blessings than I can contain! God lives! And, He is truly our Father In Heaven!

Perspective

I listened to a talk by Robert Millet "God and Human Tragedy" from the August 18, 2003 BYU Education Week. He told the story of a man who, though he had season tickets, had to miss a BYU game so his wife recorded it. He eventually was able to watch the recording of this exciting game, but by then he knew they had won the game. Though it was an exciting, nail biting, close game, he watched it calmly. When a team member would fumble the ball or make other potentially disastrous mistakes, he could calmly watch on because he already KNEW the outcome.

As we strengthen our faith we can KNOW the outcome of things too. We know that Jesus Christ WILL win! The world will be free of sin and depravity in a coming day! I want you to know that Heavenly Father has also born a personal witness to me periodically throughout my life when my world seemed a dark and forbidding place, that things in my small world would be okay too! I've lived long enough to know that things ALWAYS get better if we are doing all that we can to live according to our knowledge and testimony of our Savior and His restored gospel!

What an amazing June we had. Our Eric was born, Julie & Aubrie came from Philadelphia and we had such a wonderful, wonderful visit! And, we had a surprise birthday party for Ron's 60th birthday! All this in the space of a couple of weeks. Busy, busy--- fun, fun summer! We miss Julie and Aubrie so much. They just have to get a job closer to home after Brent finishes school.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Little Starfish

This article from Meridian Magazine is a testimony to me that all of us have value and purpose in life and that every seemingly small thing we do DOES count!
http://www.ldsmag.com/ideas/090701life.html#top

The Real Face of Evil Isn't Pretty

I love Donna Nielsen's blog: Connections. This morning as I read her article on Beelzebub, I thought how our children need to be taught about this. The world paints evil as so attractive, appealing and funny. The use of crude language is so common. It disturbs me that so many of our children's animated movies are filled with "potty humor", which causes the audience to roar with laughter. It's not funny, and this article helps explain why I have always been so uncomfortable with it.



Beelzebub

And Ahaziah fell down through a lattice in his upper chamber that was in Samaria , and was sick: and he sent messengers, and said unto them, Go, enquire ofBaalzebub the god of Ekron whether I shall recover of this disease. 2 Kings 1:2



When the faithless Jewish leaders accused Christ of performing his miracles by the power of Beelzebub [also a code word for Satan], I wondered about their accusation. Who was "the god of Ekron" with that name? What I learned when I did some research was revolting. According to one account, bowel movements were associated with worship of this deity. Don't ask. There was more, none of it suitable for this forum. But here's a bit of background that is useful.



Rick Renner tells us, "The name Beelzebub was initially used by the Philistines of the Old Testament to describe the god of Ekron. It literally meant, “lord of the flies” (2 Kings 1:2-6). Originally, it was spelled Baalzebub. As time progressed, the Jews altered Baalzebub to Beelzebub, which added an even dimmer idea to this particular name of the devil. The new name (Beelzebub) now meant, “lord of the dunghill,” or “lord of the manure.”



Two powerful and important images of Satan are presented in these two names. First of all, he is presented asBaalzebub, the “lord of the flies.” This is clearly the picture of Satan masquerading himself as the lord of demon spirits.



Secondly, he is presented as Beelzebub, the “lord of the dunghill.” By adding this twist to this name of Satan, the Jews told us something very important about the devil. Both he and his evil spirits, like nasty, dirty flies, are attracted to “dunghills” or environments where rotting, stinking, carnality pervades. This is the environment where Satan thrives best."

Validation

What Was I Saying?

On our Draper Temple shift on Fridays mornings we are seriously short handed. We need thirty-three sisters to fully staff that shift and we only have twenty-four, but with five trainee's we are getting closer. As coordinator's most of the time we feel like we are putting our fingers in dikes. We put a stop in one and another breaks out. The time flies and it can be a little stressful at times. The wonderful thing is that we are working at the temple where everyone is so nice, and for the most part understanding! I lLOVE being there! As I was pondering on these things I had a thought, "The Lord has a certain sense of humor, just as He sends nineteen-year-old, inexperienced kids on missions, he calls old people, who have lost part of their minds and bodies to work in the temple, and in spite of our weaknesses it seems to work!" We all get tired and we forget things so often we have to laugh at ourselves.

I told another sister this and she quipped, "I was a mission president's wife and we decided the Lord sends nineteen-year-olds on missions so their parents won't kill them. Maybe He sends us to the temple because it's payback time for our kids and we might be driving them crazy about now!"

Styles of Leadership

Ron has always taught our children a wonderful concept about leadership. He heard somewhere that there are two ways to move a string---you can push it or pull it. Pushing is hard and frustrating work, especially when the person or persons you are trying to push dig their heels in. Most people don't like to be forced, and we all know whose plan that was. In contrast I have thought of the Saviors wonderful example. He eagerly climbs the summit of possibilities, and though He has already ascended to the top he unselfishly turns and beckons to us "Come Follow Me" but He doesn't just say come, He reaches down to give us a hand up. Pulling the string always reminds me of Greg Olsen's beautiful art piece "Be Not Afraid" I love this picture and I love the Savior.

That is also why I love Ron so much. He isn't perfect yet but I want you to know that everyone who has ever worked with him or for him has proclaimed to me that he is the nicest man they have ever worked for and I agree! Being nice to our fellow workers, especially the ones we have stewardship over whether in the church, on the job, or at home, inspires loyalty and a desire to please. Their cooperation and productivity soar much higher and hey, everyone is happier and has more fun along the way!

"The Last Waltz" vs. "I Wanna Hold Your Hand"

I read a book review on Meridian Magazine a couple of months ago on the book “The Last Waltz” by G.G. Vandagriff. I was intrigued because I learned that she is of Russian German descent and wondered if there might be a genealogical connection perhaps to my father’s people.

I never start a book without first turning to the last page about the author. I know it’s considered weird, but I have always been wary of whom I let sing or read to me. I grew up in a home of constant contention and probably as soon as I could read I found solace in books. They were so often my only, and always my best friends! The “Little Princess,” “Secret Garden,” “Pollyanna,” “Wizard of Oz,” and later “Anne of Green Gables,” “Girl of the Limberlost” and other such sentimental books (in today’s vernacular “cheesy” or “sappy”) were such sweet escape. But, as soon as I was old enough to be assigned reading and found that so much of it could depress or frighten me (I’d had enough of that in real life) I learned to be wary. I found and will always believe that “we are what we eat” both physically and spiritually! I guess that is why I just couldn’t and still don’t like the Beatles. Most people, my children especially, think I am pretty weird for this---a child of the 60’s who does NOT like the Beatles? Everyone I know still likes the Beatles! And hey, I remember watching their début on T.V. and I’ll admit that I thought their “bowl” haircuts were kind of cute and everyone I knew was swooning over them. But, I made the fatal mistake of reading about them. How could I ever trust immoral drug addicts to sing to me? I learned to keep my opinions to myself because in the 60’s you could be stoned for not liking the BEATLES! But I’m over 50 now so . . . It’s kind of like going to the grocery store without my makeup on---doesn’t matter because no one is looking anyway. But I digress. This blog post is not about the Beatles.

After reading about the author and checking out her website (http://www.ggvandagriff.com/) I read the book---all 591 pages of it! It is a sweeping saga of romance and war that frustrated me at times. The protagonist was a good, kind young woman who showed incredibly poor judgment in the beginning, with life-long consequences! I know my dear young people I’m being wary or weird again, but that’s why I can’t get into the Twilight Series. Bella’s dangerous naivety drives me CRAZY! I’m not very patient with that, considering I don’t even trust the Beatles. But, back to “The Last Waltz”---throughout this saga from World War I to the beginning of World War II, Amalia Faulhaber found herself torn between three men. You have no idea who she will end up with! Just when her life seems to be reaching a point of blissful happiness . . . well, with 591 pages you can imagine.

Though, at times, I felt the book was too long, it does move along. Being painfully ignorant of the history surrounding Europe during World War I, I found that I had to look up some of the geography, i.e. mainly Prussia and its relationship to Germany. But, if a book inspires me to further research well that’s a good thing! And, I learned some great lessons about politics. Lessons that, quite frankly, leave me with a chill as I watch the very foundations and principles of our own blessed nation being changed before our very eyes. It has been said that if we cannot learn from history we are destined to repeat it. For my grandchildren’s sake, I HOPE not.

Probably most readers will not be as frustrated with the protagonist in the beginning as I was, but in the end I found myself cheering her on, and the final third of the story really kept me turning the pages! This is definitely a must read!

Another Tender Mercy

My goodness, how much I get done by getting ready for the day EARLY! My back is sore but my heart is full! Each year we have tried to do at least one thing to improve our yard. This year I wanted to get the brick like edgers to finally do some nice edging around our grass and shrubs. Well, I can't complain because we did get a fence and I really am grateful for it. But, oh human nature, we long for that which we cannot have.
This recession is really getting to Ron's business. He is under so much stress. He works twice as hard for about half the money. It's hard to take a 50% cut in pay and we wonder where it will end, but oh, I'm so grateful we have an income and a deed to our home! As I was working in my flower garden I felt a little sad I couldn't have the nice manufactured edging as I pulled some weeds out of the makeshift rock edging I did in front of my porch. As I looked at the rock I realized I really do love the copper and granite and dark and blonde colors in it. In fact I intended to match those colors in edging. I got a sudden idea to gather more rock from my yard. Yes, we have the stoniest ground! I thought of the picturesque stones walls we saw in England and realized that people built them from the rocks they had to clear from their land to farm. They used what they had and it was charming. Well, I've spent the morning gathering rocks. Mostly little rocks. And, I've made an edging. The LORD provided the materials! As I worked I thought about how the rocks were like people, all sizes and shapes. Some plain, others colorful and beautiful. But together they make a fine edging. Most of them were living in obsurity, half buried, just waiting to be discovered and appreciated! At least I appreciate them!
May 5, 2009 (New Fence)
March 9, 2009 (Old Fence)

What a difference 2 months can make!

Kate's Blessing

Our Precious little Kate was blessed on Sunday! I was so proud of my Brian for the beautiful blessing and expression of faith and testimony that he gave his third little child! They are a wonderful little family!

A New Sense of Awe!

My sister Ann has a really great post---The Purpose Driven Life. It's so worth visiting her site today! She's the "a really private person" blog!

I wish I'd known some of these things when I was younger and raising my family. I could have saved myself a lot of pain. I seem to be inundated with new insights all the time. Sometimes I think I am growing personally more now than I ever did when I was in the middle of all the child-rearing. I tended Brian's little ones the other day and marveled as I always do at their enthusiam and excitement about life. Not so very long ago I thought that I would not experience that sense of awe in new things until the next life. But, lately I've found a new sense of awe at discoveries inside myself. Isn't it wonderful to be OLD!

Sealed To Live

I believe in Christ; he is my King!
With all my heart to him I’ll sing;
I’ll raise my voice in praise and joy,
In grand amens my tongue employ.

These words, from a hymn text written by Elder Bruce R. McConkie of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, are a powerful reminder to the Latter-day Saints of the testimony of this special witness of the Lord Jesus Christ. On Friday, 19 April 1985, Elder McConkie, 69, died of cancer in Salt Lake Citv. Less than two weeks earlier, he had risen from his sickbed to bear his final testimony of the Savior in general conference: “I am one of his witnesses, and in a coming day I shall feel the nail marks in his hands and in his feet and shall wet his feet with my tears. But I shall not know any better then than I know now that he is God’s Almighty Son.”

We had our Stake Conference last Sunday. A former Stake President of ours related a story about Elder Bruce R. McConkie. Fifteen years after his death his wife told this story in a sacrament meeting. Elder McConkie did not want to die and he had done everything he could to live. He was so ill for conference that his doctor said to his wife that she had a dying man here and could not let him go, that he would surely pass out at the podium on national television in front of tens of thousands of people. He told his wife that he felt he must go to bear witness again of Jesus Christ, and so he did. Those of us old enough to remember will never forget his amazing testimony. It is still one of the most poignant memories I have of general conference. Even to almost the very last he would get dressed every day and try to function. Just before his death he asked Elder Packer to give him a blessing. Elder Packer blessed him (and I am paraphrasing) to stop fighting the will of the Lord. After he left Elder McConkie asked his wife if she knew what had just happened. She said that yes, he has just sealed you to death. Elder McConkie then immediately went into his bedroom, folded the bedspread as he always did, put on his pajamas, and there he stayed until he died. In that act he had completely yielded his will to that of his Heavenly Father.

As many of you know, ten years ago just two months after my son died, I had open heart surgery for a large hole in my heart. Many of the doctors and nurses asked if I’d had children and were amazed that I had five healthy deliveries. They said I could have had a heart attack or stroke each time I gave birth. The first wife of an older gentleman in our ward died from a stroke at the age of forty because of a hole in her heart, which doctors could not repair at the time. When she gave birth to their only son she did have a heart attack and the baby’s oxygen was cut off. Though the baby lived he had severe brain damage---yet I lived, and my babies were healthy.
I have had so many instances of small strokes or T.I.A.’s. Some were so frightening that I knew, I really knew, that something was terribly wrong with my body. From the most severe of these episodes I could literally feel myself slipping, being pulled away and I wondered if this way my time to die, yet I lived. And during this talk I asked the question, “Why did I live?” The thought immediately came that for now I was “sealed to live” that the Lord wants me to LIVE!

I don’t get up very early in the morning. I haven’t found a really good reason to these past ten years. As I listened to this story I had the thought that if the Lord wants me to live, then I should show the same faith as Elder McConkie. Instead of remaining in my pajamas till late in the morning, that I should dress right away for the day because the Lord wants me to live! I don’t know why. I live a very ordinary life. But I do live! And I have the thought that maybe---just maybe if I get dressed and I’m ready, the Lord might have some good I can do each day. So this is my resolution, and I’m telling all of you so that you will encourage me to get ready for each day early and listen for the whisperings of the spirit that I might be directed to do some small good.

Well, I did it this morning! Yes, I was dressed before I published this and all morning I have been singing “Have I Done Any Good In The World Today.”

The Center Place

I woke up remembering a curious dream. I was in the middle of some kind of treasure hunt, along with many other people. Of course we were using amazing technology to try and pinpoint a place in a very large, busy, noisy city. It was a center place, which if found, would have strange and amazing characteristics. There was even a rumor that a very few people who had entered that place, had simply vanished, never to be heard of again. I found myself getting very, very close and could sense that it was like being in the eye of a storm, completely quiet, serene, soothing and magical, and then I woke up!

All morning I have been pondering this strange dream and what it’s source could be. I realized I have been reading some old classics as well as searching the scriptures again on the topic of the New Jerusalem the center place. After my scripture study, I started the Wizard of Oz, and then went on to Jane Eyre. I love the first part of Jane Eyre when Jane meets Helen Burns. Jane and Helen are particularly singled out for persecution by some of the teachers and the cruel benefactor of their charity school. Jane (like myself) does not react well to the persecution; she is angry and full of despair and indignation at the unfairness of it all, but Helen exhibits complete Christlike patience, humility and serenity through it all. Since the day I first read "Jane Eyre" as a youth I have wanted to be like Helen, but my natural tendencies have always kept me kicking against the pricks.

The lesson I taught this week in my Gospel Doctrine Class was on the "gifts of the spirit" and the most over-riding impression for me was the quote (on the side bar of my blog) by George Q. Cannon. We cannot just excuse our faults, but must pray for the gifts of the spirit that will help us correct them.

Well, it amazes me how dreams can pull such varied thoughts and experiences together and I reached a very profound conclusion about the meaning of my dream. Though while writing this blog it occurred to me, this could be a great plot for a science fiction/spiritual self-improvement/adventure book all in one! (What genre is that?) I could keep people turning the pages through adventure to reach a very profound spiritual conclusion in the end.

Soooo . . . maybe, I won’t tell you what insight I had about the meaning of this dream yet. Would you be interested in such a book? I’ve had friends bug me lately about writing a sequel to my “out of print” book, but I have felt that I don’t have anything more to say, but maybe . . . .

Let me know if you would be interested in such a book.

Virginia & Philadelphia!

I had such a wonderful visit with my beautiful and lovely daughters back east! Kristi's home is so lovely, she just remodeled her kitchen, put in sod in the backyard and had her deck painted! I got aquainted with her dog again. Acadia is a beautiful 80 lb and growing 10 month old! He is a very good dog and a wonderful companion to my darling daughter! I also got to go to the Cherry Blossom Festival with her! So great!

Then Julie and my little darling Aubrie came on Sunday and Kristi cooked a wonderful meal for us. The next day we were planning to see more D.C. sites, but it rained buckets! So, we just drove to Philly in the pouring rain and I got a cold and then gave it to Aurbrie. It was a really mean one too! We hung out in Julie's darling row house most of the week in Philadelphia because Grandma and baby were sick, but it was sooooo wonderful to cuddle with my little girl again! Jules is a wonderful cook and fed me wonderful meals every night! Brent is so considerate and kind. Wow, am I blessed or what? They did show me downtown and I got to attend church with them. I have to tell you everyone just loves Julie and she is the most amazing teacher ever! I was so very proud of her. She and Brent are doing so much good in their ward! The ward pretty much consists of very new members (mostly black) and students. They learn so much from those amazing young people. (Especially mine!)

When I was teaching seminary at West Jordan High School more than a decade ago, we were taught many wonderful things in our inservice meetings. One of them was that our study time was ours, but the lesson time was the Lord's, that it is His sacred time to teach His children. That puts a little different take on it, than if we view the class-time as belonging to the students (because they can sometimes take the class in a very weird direction and we were taught to have very good control of the discussions, making sure they were edifying!) Or that the time was our soapbox to share what we had studied.

We were taught in CES that because it is sacred time that we need to do what the Lord would have us do with this time. If He inspired us to lecture that day, then lecture we should, making sure that lecture were the words of the spirit to His children in the class. If we were to play in seminary that day then the Lord had a lesson to be learned from that. And, if the spirit took us in a totally different direction than our hours of preparation called for that day, then were to freely give away our study time and not try to impose it on the class, when the Lord would have us rather follow the spirit so that He could instruct His children. We were to learn to be the vessel!

I have to say that Jules absolutely teaches this way! She is awesome! I wish I could hear her every week! Way to go Jules!

Cherry Blossom Festival

I attended the national Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington D.C. with my daughter Kristi. It was a crisp windy beautiful day! The blossoms had peaked just two days before. I've always wanted to see this!

Two Pictures

On March 7, 2009 the Alta View Stake held its annual women’s conference. In the class taught by sister Donna Leonard, she displayed this picture. I could not take my eyes off it. It breaks my heart to see the Savior of the world---our Savior so despondent that an angel must come to offer comfort. My mind immediately remembered one of the last lines of my patriarchal blessing. “Thou shall act as administering angel among the discouraged and forlorn. . ." I certainly can't think of too many instances when I have done this, but I know the next time I do I will be thinking "If ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me!" I hope and pray with all my heart that I will have fulfilled this assignment many times before I die.

After the class, I asked Donna where I might obtain a copy of the print. She did not know and does not know the artist, but immediately she pushed the picture into my hands and said, this is yours, you must take it home and enjoy it. She had noticed my fascination with the picture during class and had already been prompted to give it to me. I was so stunned that my tears just flowed at her generosity! I could hardly take the picture it was hers, but the spirit was so strong. How could I not accept? What a wonderful gift and reminder of my mission. I pray that the Lord will bless all of us in the days to come.



The other picture I actually painted! Yes, it is my first and maybe only oil painting. I painted it almost twenty-six years ago right after my last child Rebecca was born as I was recovering from a pretty deep depression. A friend, Sue Turner, from Wheatridge Colorado, brought me an entire set of oil paints, brushes and canvas, because the Lord had inspired that dear administering angel to do so! While I worked, my spirits lifted and then soared. Painting the picture then inspired me to write this poem and I pasted it on the back of my painting. (Can you tell I LOVE flowers?) I haven't read it for years, but it still brings such a wonderful spirit each time I do. It feels like truth!


The Feminine Touch

I know our Elder Brother created the world
and all things thereon . . .
But, everytime I stroke a rose petal
Soft against my face
Or see an orchid or a daisy,
Even on canvas

I WONDER . . . don't you
If He had a little sister
Following close behind,
Adding a finishing touch
or two . . .

by Bonnie Holt

As Donna so lovingly gave me her picture, I reflected that I had also given my one and only painting to a dear friend and neighbor in Colorado, Bonnie Vernon. She had it for years, until she was downsizing when she moved to Utah, and lovingly returned it to me then! How I love my dear friends who also love the Lord and desire to serve as His angels!

Two pictures, both gifts from God---both delivered by angels!

Sunday Before Kate

This is a picture of Kate (Nikoles' baby) and James (Becky's baby due June 22nd) B.B.

Announcing Kate Holt

Our gorgeous baby Kate Holt was born yesterday at 1:18 pm March 4, 2009. She weighed 7 lb. 14 oz. and is 19.5 inches.

My Great, Great, Great, Grandfather

I guess because I was abandonded by both parents and raised by a grandmother who was less than thrilled to do the job (meaning she left the job to me) I have never felt connected to anyone except my husband and children who I am passionately devoted to! But, I have never felt any real connection with ancestors. They have been just names on a pedigree chart. I've wondered if I suffer from some attachment syndrome or something---honestly! I guess when your own mother doesn't even care enough to talk with you more than once in the last 20 years and maybe a contact once a year in the 25+ years before that, it's a little hard to believe that a long-dead realative with thousands in posterity, could even know who you are, let alone care about you.

Yesterday I felt compelled to share this experience in testimony meeting. I resisted as long as my beating heart would allow, thinking that this was another wonderful witness, but that it was only for me. I was quite astounded with the reponse of a few in our ward afterward. Well, I thought that if I should share this experience in my ward I should surely share it with my family and friends.

When I first heard the film presented before the tour of the new Draper Temple it mentioned two of the men who founded Draper. Ebenezar Brown (who is related to Ron) and William Draper who is my Great, Great, Great, Grandfather. These two amazing men where friends who lived through all of the persecution of the church starting with Kirtland until they settled Draper. They became brothers-in-law when William married Phoebe Brown Ebenezar's sister. (Girls remember when your Dad took you to Draper and gave you the tour in the park which contains their statues) I had always known I was related to William Draper. But, when I heard his name mentioned in the film, for the first time I really felt something. He hasn't been far from my thoughts since. Last Saturday we served for hours at the open-house and I thought of him again. I've thought of him in the Jordan River Temple as I have administered in the ordinances there.

I got quite emotional (something I really try not to do in church) as I bore my testimony that the Temple is REAL. The ordinances are REAL. People on the other side really do know who we are! I've always known that I was William Draper's great, great, great granddaughter, but for the first time in my life I know that he knows it too! He knows me and cares about me, and is grateful I think, that I will be serving in the Draper Temple!

GRANDMA'S HANDS

A friend of mine sent an email with this picture and story. It is a five generation picture and I'm sorry I'm not certain who the family is, but the picture and story are beautiful and I wanted to share it with you all.


Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands.
When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if she was OK.
Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. 'Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking,' she said in a clear strong voice.
'I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,' I explained to her.
'Have you ever looked at your hands,' she asked. 'I mean really looked at your hands?'
I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them.. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making.
Grandma smiled and related this story:
'Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.
'They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor.
They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war.
'They have been dirty, scraped and raw , swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special
They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse.
'They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.
They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.
'These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life.
But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of God.'
I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandma's hands and led her home. When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and husband I think of grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God.
I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.

Valentine's Day

I made Ron's first valentine cake 37 years ago when we were engaged, and I haven't missed a year. Yes, this year's cake is lopsided and wrinkly (kind of like Ron & I) but it tastes just as good as ever! Your Dad is still the BEST thing that has ever happened to me. I love you Ron!

More Wisom from Crochet

* FOUNDATIONS: Often a row will seem unremarkable at best and tedious at worst, but the next few rows will reveal that it was a foundation for something beautiful just around the corner. Sometimes the pattern book will instruct you to go over the row again and you think, “I’m doing this again?” Then as you keep going you realize it completed the seemingly plain row before and added texture and dimension and foundation for the next row. Life is like that. The routine, mundane things we do just don’t seem that important yet---but they will if we just keep doing them!

I just can't get this crochet wisdom out of my mind. I thought of another one a couple of days ago and didn't write it down. It's now lost. (That's what happens to 58 year old minds) It made me think of the cute things our babies are saying. If we don't write them down now, they WILL grow up and we WILL forget.

Gospel Lessons I Have Learned from Crochet

I am finally starting a new crochet project! It has been months since I could sit that long due to my bulged disk. It still hurts a little, but I am learning how to cope. So, as I began to crochet this time, my mind reflected on all the lessons I have learned.

* PATIENCE: In my past I have never been known for having much, but I am learning.
* RHYTHM: The rhythm soothes my body and mind. I have time to think and pray. I started crocheting after my first open-heart surgery because I was going out of my mind! I found that the smooth rhythm would help my heart beat stabilize when it was in frib. Occasionally it still does, and it still helps.
* GOOD FOR THE MIND: I love doing the most complicated patterns I can find. I believe they helped my mind after so many mini-strokes threatened to take it away. Brian (who is a computer programmer) looked at my crochet instructions one day and said it looks a lot like computer code.
* OBEDIENCE: I love the precision required. It is like computer code, in that you must be absolutely precise or the pattern will be lost. Every coma, period, chain, double, single or triple crochet, every popcorn stitch etc, etc, etc, must be done with exactness!
* REPENTENCE: I love comparing it to the gospel. If you crochet one round incorrectly the next round becomes distorted. If you keep going like that soon the pattern is random and jumbled and out of shape without much meaning and not very pretty. However, if you "repent" by pulling out the mistakes and starting again, the pattern emerges and it is orderly and beautiful! That is like our lives. If we follow the “Plan of Happiness” our Heavenly Father has provided we can create something meaningful and beautiful out of our lives.
* CORRECT PATTERN: Sometimes I get a pattern off the internet. Too often the pattern has mistakes in it. You can imagine the trouble that causes. I’m grateful to have the restored gospel, with a plan I can trust! Our Father cannot change the pattern because it was "predicated" in Heaven before the foundations of the world, and because it is the pattern that works! But, He has provided our Savior Jesus Christ and because of Him we can back up, repent, and then go on! Also, whenever I have corrected a mistake in project, eventually it turns out beautifully and I can never tell you where the mistake was or even remember making one as I enjoy the perfect finished piece. I love that principle—though our sins be as scarlet, if we repent, they will be white as snow!
* PERSPECTIVE: Sometimes I like to try a pattern that doesn't have a picture, just to see what will emerge. Our lives are like that. We can't see the big picture, but I like to remember that our Heavenly Father can. If we keep following HIS pattern our lives will turn out just fine.
* ENDURE TO THE END: I love the good feeling of completing a project. Occasionally I put one away that I didn't have time to finish or grew bored with. At that point it is simply a waste of time, just knots tied into string, stuffed away in a drawer and of no use. But, if I complete the project, wash it, block it and use it; it is beautiful. It is even more satisfying if I give it to a friend! I have realized that too often for the last ten years since my son died, I have not progressed. I have hid behind my closed door. Lately, having been called to teach Gospel Doctrine and with a new calling at the Draper Temple to be an assistant coordinator, I have been pushed out of my comfort zone. I guess it’s time to share myself more and become what Heavenly Father wants me to be instead of all tied up in knots.
* IT BECOMES EASIER: At first a new pattern is hard. I have to really work at it to get it right, and it doesn’t look like much at first. But, as I try so very hard to read, re-read, check each stitch and really pay attention a beautiful pattern begins to emerge which spurs me on! Then as I become familiar with it, like when doing squares for a tablecloth that repeats, I can get too complacent. I don’t pay attention to detail and then find that I have made stupid mistakes. Life can be like that when we don’t pay attention!
* KNITTING: Knitting is usually more practical. (Remember the ALL the hats and scarves I knit a few years ago for Christmas?) But, you have to pay closer attention because it is sooooo much harder to unpick. Life’s big decisions like marriage and career choices are like that too.
* CROSS STITCH & HARDANGER DRIVES ME CRAZY: I had to give up cross stitch and I never did complete Kathy Samsel’s beautiful hardanger. It is just stress and not worth the price I pay to do it! I have learned that we cannot do or enjoy doing everything, and that’s okay too!