Something Extraordinary

I just read one of the best books I've read in a long time!"Summer of Light" by W. Dale Cramer. In fact it's on my list to buy. I'm not sure what drew me to this book at the library, except that it was on the shelf of LDS and Christian writers. I always know I can count on them to be clean fiction and I wanted a light, quick read, a page turner that hooked me from the first page. So I read a few pages, and was quite certain this book wasn't going to be my cup of tea, though I was struck by the honest writing style. But after starting the other four books I'd checked out, in frustration I started reading this one again. Then I got busy and thought I'd take them all back to the library.

Well, Ron works a lot of evenings and I get lonely, so I picked it up again. After a few chapters I realized I'd found a real gem! I'm impressed how this author wove his honest faith and down to earth wisdom into and around the humor that still has me smiling. It's a well written charming book, perfect for discussion at a book club! I'm not going to give any more away except to share a few quotes from the book:

"I believe every one of us was designed---in his mother's womb, before birth---to do something extraordinary. The trick if I may call it that, is in avoiding all the distractions, learning to hear and recognize the voice that guides you into your gift. God designed you and he had something in mind when he did."

"Yeah, well I wish he'd let me in on it."

"Oh, I expect he has. You just don't see it yet."

And, Barbara (just a little hint) you will love finding out what this mans gift is! It was described this way: ". . . my pictures were gut-wrenchingly real, starkly beautiful."

When A Migraine Is Good News!

I feel as though I was given my life back. Last week after another in a bazillion episodes of TIA symptoms Ron put his foot down and took me to the emergency room at University Hospital. They kept me over night for observation and tests, and determined that I was having an aberrant form of silent migraine (without the pain) which totally mimics stroke symptoms. They have put me on an anti-seizure medication which should stop the cycle.

I've been on the medication about a week and I have to say that I feel good! My mind is so clear, almost like someone who gets glasses for the first time and realizes that a leaf on a tree has veins in it. My biggest problem right now is deciding what to do with the rest of my life! I know I've spent the last decade (literally) waiting for a big stroke to kill me. When the symptoms happened they were really frightening!

Migraines sound so manageable compared to a stroke. I'm realizing (though no one can be certain when their time on earth is up) that I can probably see my grandchildren grow, go on a mission with my husband, and though I'd never want to be a burden, I may even be a really old lady for my kids to take care of!

Missing Funny Bone

I think when the Lord created me he forgot to install a funny bone. I wish I could have more humor. I know many delightful people that have the ability to laugh at themselves and see humor everywhere in almost any situation. At least I smile a lot! I am basically a happy person and I know how to laugh, I just don't know how to be funny. Do you think humor is something that we can acquire? And if so how?

She’s A Butterfly

I heard this song by Martina Mcbride on my sister’s blog, and it touched my heart in a way that few ever have. Though I thought I had a handle on it, it seems that April is still my month of mourning, but this year it has been for the loss of parents I never had. I guess you never get over that need. A lot of my friends are at the point in their lives where they are losing and mourning their parents, but they have the wonderful memories and voices of affirmation in their heads of their love and they have ties that will forever bind them to their beloved parents. I only met my father on three occasions in my adult life. The first time his face was of a complete stranger to me, and yet—he wasn’t. I still carried a memory somewhere in my little two-year old heart I guess. He took my brother and I out to dinner, and that night he gave me something I’d never had before, and never had since. It was so elusive I don’t have words for it, but it seemed that he was pleased with me, and with my life, in a way that no one else can be. I’ve never thought of it this way before but could it be akin to the look in Ron’s eyes when he talks with his darling daughters?

Do you believe that we can get messages from people on the other side of the veil? I finally downloaded this song, and I cry and cry when I hear it. I keep thinking that this is a message from my dead Daddy. (That’s what his other children call him.) It feels like he feels this way about me, and wants me to believe it! “Oh Lord, help thou my unbelief!” When I listen it seems possible! I’m going to keep listening!

(And then I found this incredible butterfly picture, with hearts! Is that a coincidence?)

Thank you Daddy!

She remembers when she first got her wings
And how she opened up the day she learned to sing
Then the colors came, erased the black and white
And her whole world changed when she realized

She's a butterfly, pretty as the crimson sky
Nothing's ever gonna bring her down

And everywhere she goes, everybody knows
She's so glad to be alive, she's a butterfly

Like the purest light in a darkened world
So much hope inside, such a lovely girl
You should see her fly, it's almost magical
It makes you wanna cry, she's so beautiful

She's a butterfly, pretty as the crimson sky
Nothing's ever gonna bring her down
And everywhere she goes, everybody knows
She's so glad to be alive, she's a butterfly

God bless the butterfly
Give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground
(God bless the butterfly)

God bless the butterfly
Give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground

Oh, she's a butterfly, pretty as the crimson sky
Nothing's ever gonna bring her down
And everywhere she goes, everybody knows
She's so glad to be alive, she's a butterfly
She's a butterfly, she's a butterfly

God bless the butterfly
Give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground
(God bless the butterfly)

God bless the butterfly
Give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground

Mother

I found out last night that my mother is dying and I am grieving, but not because I will miss her, but because I never had her. I haven't lived with her since I was ten years old—fifty years ago. It is hard to be the pariah of her family, but I cannot change what is. I can only be grateful that she gave me life, and through her troubled family I was exposed to the gospel! I am so grateful to have my wonderful Ron! He is my constant—the one who loves me! And, I’m grateful for my beautiful children!

I am hopeful that in the next life she will be able to see more clearly, to find a tiny piece of love for me, and to find peace and rest to her soul and to know that I forgive her. When I was little I called her Mamma. She had dark cholocate eyes, and thick beautiful dark brown hair with a hint of auburn when It caught the sun. I always wanted to have her hair instead of my golden locks and freckles. She was my sun and my moon and my stars. May God now bless and keep my Mamma!

Cover Your Mouth When Yawning In Public

As I watched someone in church today let out a big YAWN (without covering their mouth) which of course, is contagious, I couldn’t stifle my yawn—but I DID cover my mouth! I covered my mouth because whenever I yawn, I hear my high school dance teacher Virginia McDonald’s voice, “Always cover your mouth when yawning in public!” She taught her students much, much more than dance. She also taught us etiquette and poise. I was so scared of that woman, but I will never forget some of the things she taught us—she had a great influence on my life.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full. Don’t cross your legs when sitting in front of people. Stand with your shoulders straight. When in doubt follow the lead of your host or hostess. Take a gift when invited to dinner. Don’t interrupt others while having a conversation. Always say thank you, and be grateful for what you do have and don’t waste time on what you don’t, as well as many, many others!”

It made me think of all the other voices I hear in my head.

I read the book “Dave at Night” this week, by Gail Carson Levine who is the author of “Ella Enchanted.” My daughter recommended it, but warned me I would need a box of Kleenex. I actually needed two, because it’s the story of an orphan, and for me “Dave” was my father, who really did grow up in an orphanage. Orphan stories always have a common theme running through them—nobody wants them, and they are always told how worthless they are and that they will never amount to anything. Boy, do I relate. I was raised by a grandmother who was orphaned by the time she was seven. She grew up as a “poor relation” and I’m certain she was fed all those lines—which she then passed on to me! I’m amazed at how often those old negative voices still try to haunt me, but we don’t have to be an orphan to feel inadequate. The world is filled and her cup literally runneth over with negative messages for any, and all, who will listen and entertain them! The negative voices who keep trying to convince us all, that we will never amount to anything—that we cannot possibly accomplish this or that.

Thank Heavens for the best voice in my head!

Thank Heavens for the voice of the Lord! Which I KNOW, though it’s a still small voice, can override all the other voices vying for attention in our heads and hearts, and saying, “You are my daughter and I LOVE you. Hang on. Keep trying. You’ll do better next time. I adore you! Your presence (while we are in prayer) makes me so happy, thank you for visiting with me today. Please come again tomorrow. When you get homesick, come to my Holy Temple and there I’ll give you rest and there you can remember my promises! This life is only for a little season, and then I will hold you in my arms again!”

I think Heavenly Father also wants me to show my consideration for others (which is really what good manners are, according to Mrs. McDonald) by covering my mouth when yawning in public, but so much more importantly remembering that truly, “I am a daughter of my Heavenly Father who loves me!”

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?

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.

Paradigm Shifts

Perhaps the greatest barrier to a paradigm shift, in some cases, is the reality of paradigm paralysis, the inability or refusal to see beyond the current models of thinking..

Ron issued a challenge to me---to shift my thinking in certain areas. I've been giving it a great deal of thought. I actually had a small revelation after praying and pondering about something for awhile. I'm so insecure about most things, mostly myself---my abilities, etc. etc. etc. Wow, how different things can seem when you take a look at the world from a different angle.

For instance Ron worked with this man years ago in scouts, who was really hard for most people to get along with, he was just stubborn and difficult. Then we found out he had a brain tumor, and that it had dramatically altered his personality. He eventually died from it, and before he did, it changed everything about the way we viewed him.

In the Book of Mormon, Jacob talks about seeing things as they really are. That is what Ron's challenge has started me searching for---truth! Anyway, I found this really great quote which I find very thought provoking!

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There is nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you." -Marianne Williamson, 1993

I hate to hurt people's feelings. I just hate it! Not that I don't, but I have NEVER purposely tried too, ever! I spent too many years as a child being called names and feeling rejected! Well, because of that I spend a lot of time worrying about the things I say. It's just so much easier to be invisible, because no one criticizes someone they don't see. As a gospel doctrine teacher I'm forced to be up front and believe me I am out of my invisible comfort zone. My little revelation was how people in my class really perceive me. It's a crazy thought (which I'm not ready to share) but wow---it has shifted my thinking, it really changes everything! Anyway this quote is calling to me. I hope that it might resonate with you as well.

Door Locks

Often I wake up with interesting thoughts. This morning I woke up with the image of a door lock clearly in my mind. It was the kind that latches public bathroom stalls. How strange. As I lay there in that state somewhere between sleep and fully awake I tried to remember a dream or some reason for the strange image. I couldn't. So I pondered door locks. Locks can protect us, but sometimes they can keep us isolated as well. I thought of how sometimes life for me has been so tramatizing that I have learned to lock out people and feelings, even the love of the Lord. I then thought of our recent stake conference. We had a general authority come and change our Stake Presidency. Elder Gonzales talked of the Christus Statue --- Christ with his arms open wide. He said too often we leave the Savior standing there with his arms outstretched and we never allow Him to encircle His loving arms around us! Or we dodge His love and go right under His outstreched arms. Or we just lock it out!