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!