A Good Deed in a Weary World

"How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a weary world."  William Shakespeare

I was engaged in fall yard clean-up (my husband was 2,000 miles away on business) when I noticed a neighbor two doors up raking and bagging huge piles of leaves.   She is a divorced mother who is working to support her youngest, a son, as he serves as a missionary in South America.  There was a cold wind blowing in an ever- darkening cover of clouds that made the task harder.  I ought to help her I thought wearily feeling as if I didn’t have the energy to finish my own tasks.  The next time I looked up, a woman and her two teenage sons were working quickly beside her to get the leaves raked and bagged before the coming storm.  I live in a neighborhood where helping others is a tradition.   I was grateful they were willing and able to help.  I didn’t help the divorced but I left my chores unfinished to take dinner to a young mother battling a serious infection from a ruptured appendix on top of a Cesarean Section.   Having used up all his vacation time, the young husband had to return to work and has depended upon neighborhood women to take shifts caring for the baby and bringing dinner in each evening.

The curse of our generation is busyness.  There is always more to do than can be done, more demands on our time than there is time available.  This is what makes the service and support rendered both remarkable and encouraging.  It is a blessing to live surrounded by busy people working hard to care for themselves and their families who willingly and constantly put their own needs on the back burner to help someone else. 

“Two are better than one . . .For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.”  Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

Healing Refrains of Nature

Rachel Carson: “Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.  There is symbolic as well as actual beauty in the migration of the birds, the ebb and flow of the tides, the folded bud ready to the spring.  There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature- the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after the winter.  

The lasting pleasures of contact with the natural world are not reserved for the scientists but are available to anyone who will place himself under the influence of earth, sea, and sky, and their amazing life.”

I have but one thought to add: this earth and all life were created by a wise and loving Heavenly Father for the benefit and schooling of his children.  All nature reminds us he is near.

"And behold, all things have their likeness and all things are created and made to bear record of me, both things which are temporal, and things which are spiritual; things which are in the heavens above, and things which are on the earth, and things which are in the earth, and things which are under the earth, both above and beneath: all things bear record of me." (Moses 6:63)

Candle Against the Wind

“Help me, please, to carry this candle against the wind,” is Wendell Berry’s prayer in his 1969 poem, Shenandoah.   Light dispels darkness but in this world where it is common to  “. . . call evil good, and good evil” and “put darkness for light, and light for darkness . . .” (Isaiah 5:20), I sometimes feel like one struggling to carry a candle against the wind.  There are forces of darkness actively working to deprive this great nation, the United States of America, of its divinely inspired constitution, and its citizens of their God-given liberty.  In the whirlwind of information, truth is often obscured and dark deeds hidden from view.  Those who speak out in defense of God and his commandments are vilified.  Half-truths and twisted truths are used to mislead multitudes carefully way from the source of light and truth.  Alarming.  Terrifying.

Yet, always I am drawn back to the source of truth and am made more sure in my commitment to stay on the side of Our Father in Heaven and his son, our Deliverer, Jesus Christ.  “Therefore, let your hearts be comforted concerning Zion; for all flesh is in mine hands; be still and know that I am God.”  (L.D.S. Doctrine and Covenants 101:16.)

Guide Us, O, Thou Great Jehovah

“Guide us, O Thou great Jehovah . . . 


I am weak, but Thou art able;  
Hold us with Thy powerful hand.”  


This hymn has been running through my head lately.  The lyrics are a modified version of a hymn written in the 1700’s by a Welsh preacher, William Williams.  The words and music keep replaying in my head lately until I finally became aware enough of them to wonder why this particular hymn is stuck there.  Then the epiphany:  I have am surrounded by loved ones who are struggling with the supreme trials of their lives and who have been for some time.  It is my deep desire to share in the carrying of these burdens and thus lighten their loads but it seems I am worn thin and weary and my efforts have done little to help those I yearn to help.  I have been praying almost non-stop for direction as to what to say, what to do, how to be of real help.

Answers to prayers come in many ways.  The beginning of the answer to my most desperate prayers is contained in this hymn being sung in my mind.  “I am weak, but Thou are able.”   I have been trying to do all I can, and being weighed-down when all I can do is not enough. I, alone, can neither lift the burdens of others nor give them strength to carry them. There is much of mundane tasks that need doing that I can do, but where hearts need to be healed, I can trust in the love and wisdom of Our Father.  Our Father in Heaven, who knows and understands us intimately, can heal the hearts of his children and fill them with hope and perspective.   They are truly in his powerful hands.

Ezra Taft Benson explained: “I know the Lord lives.  I know that He loves us.  I know that apart from Him no one can succeed, but as a partner with Him, no one can fail.  I know that God can make a lot more out of our lives than we can.”

Swimming Upstream

We stopped at Bonneville Dam, one of several dams that span the Columbia River on our way home from our coast trip.  The dam is an obstacle to fish driven by instinct to swim upstream to spawn so man has built fish ladders to give the fish a way around the dam.  Underwater viewing windows provided us a unique look at the tough journey.   The salmon run is largely over but I saw large steelhead trout and a huge sturgeon fighting their way up.  The ladder is a series of narrow steps which cause a fast-moving “waterfall” at the side of the dam.  The weary and weakened fish (most species don’t eat during the journey) face an arduous uphill journey against a strong downhill current.

As I watched the fish struggle against the current, I empathized with them.  Life as a human is also an uphill battle and in my experience, it gets harder as we go.  I have often pondered how life unfolds and why it only gets harder.   I have learned that, in his mercy,  Heavenly Father brings us step by step to a higher place- closer to and more like Him.   Once we have faced and survived a crisis or difficult condition, we are wiser and stronger leaving us more able to face the next more difficult situation.   Aging leaves me physically weaker but spiritually, mentally and emotionally stronger and with more of an eternal perspective.   Things that hit hard and knocked me down as a youth don’t phase me any longer, not because the nature of the challenge has changed but because I have changed (and hopefully for the better.)  I am still on the upward climb and, mercifully, the rocks and crevasses ahead are not within view.  I don't know what is ahead but I expect it to be harder than what lays behind.  This is as it should be and I am not dismayed but pray only for strength to finish.  As Paul believed, "For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us."  (Romans 8:18)

Mortal life is a great school, a training ground where we learn through our own experience as well as through observing the experiences of others, and we work through it as from elementary school to high school to the university, all the while building on the foundation that was provided in the previous days.   If in the deepest desires of our hearts we seek to know God and return to his presence, our experiences will teach us the path.    “I the Lord search he heart, I try the reins, even to give every man according to his ways, and according to the fruit of his doings.”  (Jeremiah 17:10)    Life is a growing, learning, refining experience where as we learn of and submit to the ways of God, our rough edges are polished and through the refiner’s fire the dross is in us is separated and removed.  “The fining pot is for silver, and furnace or gold: but the Lord tried the hearts.”  (Proverbs 17:3)  There is Godly help for all that befalls us in life, even the daily task of swimming upstream and when we finish this life, we will have been shaped and refined us to reveal our true nature and capacity.  

“Behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver;  I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction.”  (Isaiah 48:10)

Through the Eyes of a Child

I love the ocean, or more specifically, the very northern California and the Oregon coast.  I love walking in the redwood trees.  I love encountering wildlife and especially have a fondness for birds.  I wonder about the different kinds of trees, berries and wildflowers and enjoy learning about things such as what differentiates pines from spruces, firs or cedars or seals from sea lions.  The only thing better than visiting my favorite spots is visiting them with someone who is seeing them for the first time.  There is no way to explain to another person what it is like to walk in the stillness of a redwood grove, to poke around in a tide pool or watch the surf crash over the rocks.   My joy doubles when sharing these marvelous places with someone else. 

I just returned from a trip to the coast and one of the highlights was introducing these natural wonders to two young grand daughters who were seeing the ocean and the redwoods for the first time.  Their delight was unbounded and it brought me deep contentment to see them enjoying the things that I love.  I have a small electronic player that pictures birds and plays their calls when the corresponding button is pushed.  The little three-year-old played with it over and over; again it warmed my heart to see her finding joy in things that bring me joy.  It is good to take a child if you need to see familiar things through new eyes.   Some of the wonder that is lost over time is restored when sharing life with a child.

Children require constant vigilance and can leave their caring adults exhausted and frazzled BUT they most certainly bring sunshine into our lives.  We provided many activities to keep them occupied during the long drive in the car but one of the most fun activities was created by the six-year-old.  She got out her notebook and pencil, wrote the names of everyone in the car and numbers from one to five under each name.  Then she seriously asked each parent and grandparent, in turn, what they want to be when they grow up.  Then she asked her little sister who answered: “a banana slug.”  The bright yellow oversize slime machines are common in the redwood forests and their “cute” little heads with retractable antennae fascinated her.

Truly, the world is a richer place when shared  with a child.

Wild Things

My daughter and her children volunteer at wildlife rehabilitation center that is vastly over burdened and dependent solely on donations and volunteers. She travels some distance each week to lend a hand and I told her I would love to help if there was something I could do at home. That’s how I came to have wild birds in my home for a ‘soft release.’ She brings me cages of juvenile birds. They have been robins and finches so far but I lobbied (unsuccessfully) my husband to buy a dog run for the crows.

The birds she brings have been injured, rescued and nursed back to health by others. My part is to place their cages in the backyard with a cloth over the top to conceal them from the sharp eyes of raptors overhead and feed them 3 times a day. The hardest part has been decapitating the mealworms. Live mealworms, swallowed whole by robins, can eat through the crop of the birds thus killing them. At night, I cover the cages and bring them in for protection from nocturnal predators from whom the cages trap them with insufficient security. I do all of this silently, suppressing my natural inclination to coo reassuringly to them that I mean them no harm as they thrash about the cage when I change their water or food dishes. They are WILD THINGS and fear of humans and other predators will serve them well and protect their lives in the real world so feed them & clean the bottom of the cages as quickly and quietly as I can and withdraw, leaving them to become familiar with the sights and sounds of the backyard. I follow this routine for three days and on the fourth day, after they have had breakfast, I open the cage doors and retreat.

I watch them through a window as they chatter nervously and flit about deciding eventually to leave the security of the cage and fly away. I leave food out for a few days while their survival skills are honed. Each young bird has its own personality and are not unlike my own children as they left the nest. One in the group flies out immediately flying quickly up and over the roof without hesitation. Another tentatively flies to a nearby tree, leaps among the branches, flies back into the cage chirping encouragement to another and then the two fly confidently out, up and out of sight. Others linger, flitting with agitated chirping, pausing at the open door and retreating back into the familiar cage and finally flying to a nearby tree. The last timid bird calling desperately for his cage mates finally flies in small bursts from tree to tree and branch to branch, lingering in the yard for sometime and returning for a few days. Eventually, they are all gone.

Out of sight, I watch prayerfully, asking that our God who is mindful of each sparrow that falls, (Luke 12:6) will watch over them, lead them to safe shelter for the night, guide them to find food and alert them to predators. I pray that they will find joy in their freedom and become able and strong and skilled in taking care of themselves. A few days after the first release of six robins, a huge flock of robins noisily descended in my front yard. There were many juveniles searching for worms and bugs on the ground while several adults watched from the trees. Were some of my ‘babies’ among them? I hope so. The young Wild Things are free to fly and struggle to survive. They have no way of knowing some of us caged and nourished them out of compassion and hopes of stacking the odds of survival in their favor. More young birds die from accidents and predators than can be helped; and on the scale of things, our efforts have no effect on the natural world but these small wild things enrich my life.

Seeing is NOT Believing

Seeing should not always be believing. I delete a lot of emails- even the ones that hint I will not be a good: friend, citizen, Christian . . . if I dare not to forward them on to at least ten others. Some of the emails I do click to experience the AMAZING photos, stories, videos, and so forth. One such titled the “Incredible Instrument !!” displayed a video of a fascinating set of pipes, conveyor belts, gears, wheels with balls shooting out of an assortment of pipes to strike the moving musically tuned bars, discs, chimes, drums and blocks all timed perfectly to make a catchy set of rhythms. The video was introduced with an elaborate fabrication detailing the amount of hours spent by engineers and musicians building it from farm equipment.

The incredible instrument was truly incredible to watch-- BUT it does not actually exist. It is a computer-generated video (which is still an amazing feat to me.) However, it is one of many examples of falsehoods circulated on the internet. It is a reminder to me Seeing is NOT Believing. Why concoct such a lie? I don’t know; but there is veritable flood of half-truths, falsehoods and calculated lies that spread easily with little thought by those who forward them on as to the validity. Last week I read about the miracle cancer-preventing diet supported by Johns Hopkins Medical Center—only Johns Hopkins had denied ever reporting such data. I find it distressing that it is not only commonplace and acceptable to lie and mislead but that so much time and effort are expended in generating and spreading lies. A video about imaginary “incredible instruments” may seem harmless but is any deception justifiable? The healthy diet encouraged by the Johns Hopkins Hoax email may be healthy but does the goal justify the lie?

I fear we are treading on dangerous ground when truth is not valued.

A Family Record

“Our real blessings often appear to us in the shape of pains, losses and disappointments; but let us have patience and we soon shall see them in their proper figures.” Joseph Addison

My father continues to survive lung cancer and it’s accompanying dementia intensified by his near blindness due to macular degeneration. Almost 10 months ago, the oncologist said a biopsy would tell us exactly what type of cancer was eating away his lung and had wrapped itself around the aorta and spread to lymph nodes BUT a biopsy would not change the outcome. He suggested we engage hospice. If the cancer is small cell cancer, which he suspected, my father would succumb naturally to its effects in 2 or 3 months; if it were the slower growing large-cell cancer, he could last 7 to 8 months. Ten months later, he coughs a little more but is still able to walk from his chair to the bathroom, dining table and bedroom and seems only slightly weaker than when we received the initial prognosis.

After the initial shock, we set into a routine of trying to care for him and eventually contracted with hospice. His dementia leaves him not only in a state of constant confusion but also frequently agitated and upset about some urgent task such as returning the non-existent rental car, the overdue books on tape, vacating the premises since we are not authorized to be here or getting off the ship, the island, the RV, etc., etc. Attempts to calm him with reason are futile and like today, he usually accuses my mother or us of being ‘crazy and needing to be in an institution.’

His physical care is not difficult but his constant badgering and impossible demands are wearing, especially on my mother. I have already experienced the grief of losing my father. Now are lives are in a holding pattern while we wait for him to die. I do not intend to sound callous but our reality is that we are caring for a deranged stranger and sometimes it’s difficult because he is not ‘him.’

I was in this state of mind when my cousin from New Jersey and his wife came to visit over the Labor Day weekend. It was then that we pulled out a video made by my talented son-in-law with input from all our family. The video was a labor of love composed of old photos, old home movies, recent interviews and recordings by myself and brother and our children. It was a love story of the courtship, marriage and family my parents created and the legacy they wove for their posterity. Many late nights went into its production and we presented it as a gift at the celebration of my parents Golden Wedding Anniversary. That was 14 years ago!

A remarkable and healing perspective came as I viewed this video that had been on the shelf for years. I saw photos and movies of my younger father and memories flooded back of the times we shared as I grew up and as he shared in the lives of my growing children. He was young and strong and much of the film was at the ocean’s edge or walking in the thickly forested mountains of California and Oregon. The shell of the man we care for now is not who my father is; the gospel message is the assurance that he will in time be raised in immortality and once again and for eternity, be at his prime with his mind and faculties fully restored. Meanwhile, the video helped restore memories and renew faith and hope in the future, making the present more patiently bearable.

I have always felt strongly inclined to keep a record of our family as it grew and changed. I did not foresee the circumstances we find ourselves in now but I am grateful now for the visual and vocal as well as written records we have kept and compiled; they have blessed me in a way I had not anticipated.

My Husband's Nightmare

“I had a nightmare,” my husband remarked as we got ready for the day.

Asking what it was about, I learned that he dreamed that he and I and our son were on an ATV and the ATV suddenly lost power, probably the drive-train; and then the radiator started leaking- multiple pin-sized leaks sprouting from everywhere! I couldn’t suppress a giggle. I assured him I wasn’t laughing at his nightmare- it was just the kind scenario that would be a nightmare to him-- a mechanical failure. I asked where we were going on the ATV and then I understood his horror. We were on the way to stake conference (a regional church meeting) “and now my hands were all covered with black grease!” he explained. “And we were going to be late,” I added. “Exactly,” he agreed, now knowing I understood.

My husband HATES being late- and takes great pains to make sure he is always EARLY. He also has a bachelor’s degree in Mechanical Engineering and two Masters of Engineering degrees- one in Mechanical and the second in Electrical Engineering. He earned his living as a rocket scientist. For him, the world is defined through the principles of mathematics and physics. He is also, and has always been, the fixer of all broken things. My nightmares consist of spiders or how to protect our sleeping children from a crazed intruder in the night; but for him, a mechanical failure that will make him LATE to church- that’s a nightmare.

Again I am reminded how differently we as individuals ‘see’ the world. And, I am grateful for those differences in our marriage. I do get anxious about being late, but I NEVER have nightmares about mechanical failures-- probably because I never have to worry about fixing such things- I have total faith in knowing that he will fix or take care of such things. It lightens my burden immensely to not even give thought to whether the car will start when I need it or how to get the laundry done when the washer breaks. He maintains the car so it always starts, hears noises it or the washer make so that he anticipates what part is wearing out and fixes it BEFORE it becomes a crisis. I am left free to worry about ridding our house of spiders with the spider vacuum he gave me or checking all the locks twice before going to bed. What a blessing he is to me! Thank you, Heavenly Father.

When You Take the Very First Step . . .

In the late 1980’s, I took some of my older children to see a live musical, My Turn on Earth by Carol Lynn Pearson. I remember it as the only time I have attended a musical theater in a ‘secular’ setting where I have felt presence of the Holy Ghost as it bore witness of the truths that were presented therein. I watched a video of the musical this morning with my granddaughter and felt the same witness of truth as I had the first time I saw it.

One line from the musical, presented in song with flourishes, is: “When you take the very first step on the road, you also take the last; so if you don’t like the end of the road—you better turn back FAST!” A simple principle--- repentance--- made possible ONLY because Jesus the Christ willingly offered himself as a sacrifice to carry out the plan of God the Father and thus atone for our sins. It was the supreme act of SELFLESS love- the perfect, spotless lamb without blemish suffered the pain, darkness and despair that result from sin- not His, but mine. His suffering of the consequences of my sins paid the demands of justice in order that he might extend mercy to me. Thus the merciful principle of repentance was made available so that though my “sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.” Isaiah 1:18

Having thought, said, and done things that I agonizingly regret and wish I could take back, I am drawn to my knees in humility and gratitude for the chance to go back and do it right or better this time. The mercy extended to me by my Heavenly Father and my savior, Jesus Christ, allows this zig-zag, back and forth pattern of mortal living. As with all principles in Heavenly Father’s perfect plan of salvation, this principle benefits me by allowing me the conditions where I may learn for my self to distinguish between good and evil; and to learn to value the good. It allows me to become wiser, kinder and stronger. “Do-Overs” are a key part of the great plan. The insight, the peace, the hope that comes in the process are witnesses to the wisdom of our Father.

With that understanding, it behooves me to take more time to look ahead to the end before choosing which road to set foot on. Having been given the gift of repentance, what benefit will it be to me if I fail to learn- and repeatedly set foot on the same doomed path?

Misunderstood

Few things make one feel more alone than being misunderstood- having one's motives, intentions or actions misconstrued, twisted or totally misread. An analogy taught in a college class about communication skills has stuck with me through the years. We were told to imagine ourselves in a windowless room. We had no way to communicate with others in the windowless rooms next door and down the hall from us and we would live our lives in those rooms, never seeing the interiors of the rooms next to us. We could communicate the contents of our own personal rooms and what transpires there by tapping on the walls or by phone. The room is the analogy for our minds. Try as we might, we may come close to communicating with others but we will never truly see the inside of another's room as we see our own.

John Kehoe: “Each of us naturally assumes that we see the events and circumstances of our life as they actually are, that we are objective. But this is not the case. We see the world and ourselves in it, not as it is, but as we are, as we are conditioned to see it. We see it through the lens of who and what we are. To know this is to know something great, for no one gets to view the world without a lens (a perspective colored by beliefs, expectations and past experiences). Our mind processes all experience through this filter, and often that experience gets misinterpreted in the process. Discovering and seeing what is really going on in our life is actually far trickier than you might suppose. In fact it is almost impossible, for one never gets to view the world without a lens (perspective). The best we can do is exchange different lenses (viewpoints, beliefs), and decide which is more accurate, or at least which one feels right, much the same way as going for an eye exam to discover the right lens to counteract an eye deficiency.”

As Kehoe proposes, we may consider the viewpoints of others to more clearly understand the contents of their room. But human viewpoints may never represent the whole truth. Perhaps the key to finding common understanding is for each party to seek to come to the Lord's view. It is not a choice between my way or your way but a choice for each of us to seek the Lord's way. Perhaps the closest we come to being of one mind, is when we live the gospel of Jesus Christ with an honest heart, seeking the spirit of the Lord to guide our thoughts and desires. Paul admonished the Philippians: "Only let your conversation be as it becometh the gospel of Christ: that whether I come and see you, or else be absent, I may hear of your affairs, that ye stand fast in ONE spirit, with ONE mind striving together for the faith of the gospel" Philip. 1: 27 We we find ourselves anxiously engaged in working side-by-side with others in bringing to pass the purposes of our God, perhaps I have peeked into your room, and you into mine. So the next time I feel isolated and unable to communicate the goings-on in my room, perhaps, I will remember that God sees my room and invites us all to join Him in his exalted room where we will all see and know together.

What Could Possibly Go Wrong Next?

A slight deviation during this post to share a frustrating experience that has elements of humor in the “What Could Possibly Go Wrong Next” category. The new Harry Potter movie came out last week and my husband and I along with two of our daughters and their husbands decided to go see it this coming Saturday. I thought I would save time waiting in line and order tickets online at a theater that allows you to buy tickets for specific seats. I thought this is a great idea because then we don’t have to wait in line for hours hoping we will all get seats together. So Monday after dinner I search for the theater and it comes up on a web page with all of the chain's theaters. I click on locations and get a page with all the theaters listed. Next I am SURE I clicked on the theater location north of us and under it were the showtimes. I selected the noon show after conferring with everyone and bought 6 seats with my credit card. I submitted the order and it gave me a page to print out to take to the theater location far South of us to pick up the tickets when I went on Saturday.

So I read the information trying to find out how to change the location and it says no refunds, no exchanges, no transfers. Aaaack! There is a customer service number so I call it and tell the girl how I’m sure I clicked on the north location but the receipt says the south location. She says they can’t do any changes over the phone but all I have to do is drive to the theater in the sourth and they can refund my credit card. I tell her where I live. Well, then she explains I can drive to the theater in the north (30 minutes away) and give them the receipt I printed out and the credit card and they can call the south location and those people can then refund the ticket cost to my credit card. I’m irritated at having to waste the gas and time to go to theater and I’m SURE (I think) that I pushed the correct icon in the first place but I decide, okay, I will make a quick trip to the theater and get it taken care of. My husband offers to go with me and we will be back in plenty of time to take our grandson to lap swimming at 9:00 pm to practice for his scout swim test.

We are driving north on the freeway with google map to the theater in hand; traffic is light- this won’t be so bad. My husband asks what exit we take and I realize- the one we just passed. No problem. Just exit at the next one and get back on the freeway southbound and try again. Okay- that worked. We got off the freeway at the right exit and followed the map and started to turn onto Grant Street which was BLOCKED OFF. What? Oh- a parade- horses- lots of horses, carriages, ponies, horses as far down the street as we could see. So we turned the other way to go around the parade but, unfortunately, Grant Street was the staging area and the parade went around the corner onto the main street, completely encircling the block where the theater was. So-- we turned around again and went block buy block trying to find a place to park so we could walk to the theater. No luck. Besides the Parade there was an semi-pro baseball game starting and cars were parked everywhere. Finally we saw a car pull out of a space in a parking lot next to a brick building so we grabbed that spot, walked to Grant street and ran across between horses, through the block and finally to the theater. Waited in line, explained the problem to the nice girl who took us to another computer and called the south theater. Tried another number. Tried a third number. No one answered. Finally called the manager who got her transferred to someone who answered the phone. Explained the problem several times. She gave them my credit card number. Waited. Credit card failed. What do you mean failed? It worked an hour ago when I bought the tickets and all you need to do now is refund the ticket money. They checked the expiration date- 10/2010. Tried again- it worked. FINALLY. Okay- refund will be credited to our account in 5-7 business days. Now back to the ticket computer. After a couple tries found a 12:25 show time with 6 good seat together- good! Wait---- the printer jammed---- the girl pulls the printer out of the counter, tries several things. Can’t get it to work. Calls manager. The two of them finally get the printer working but it can’t print the merchant receipt for me to sign because the computer already sent one. So they print a customer copy for me to sign and we’re FINISHED! The parade is ended to we run back to our car, passing the front of the building where we are parked I notice it is an alcohol & drug clinic. Interesting. Hurry home, pick up the grandson and arrive for lap swimming just after 9:00 pm BUT- (of course) no lap swimming tonight even though the brochure we received when we bought the yearly pass says lap swimming in the summer from 9-10:00 pm. Sorry. No lap swimming in the evenings during the summer. It’s a private party. Sorry, grandson-- We’ll try tomorrow morning. (That didn’t work either- High School Swim Team and elderly ladies water aerobics.)

Sometimes the harder I try to save time, the more time it takes. Not the most serene experience but nothing more than a bother in the eternal scheme of things.

A Familiar Spirit

Today I attended church about a thousand miles from home. I love attending church while on vacation where I find myself not so much among strangers but with other "brothers and sisters" who are God's children. The faces are different but the spirit is familiar and I have been uplifted and strengthened by the association. "For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." Matthew 18:20

Not Quite Put Together Right

I took the photo of these massive caterpillars in the island nation of Dominica (not to be confused with the more civilized Dominican Republic.) The bright clownish coloring of these voracious beasts caught my attention and one wonders if the orange speckled feet and red head were left over from some other project-- and Mother Nature added them as an afterthought.

I was still wondering why the chocolate Bavarian cream was so runny as I opened the ‘fridge door to set it in to chill. My answer sat on the shelf in front of me- I had forgotten to add the egg yolks that I had separated earlier. I was in the middle of the recipe when a long-time friend called and I finished it up while chatting to her on the phone so there was a reason for my oversight but that didn’t change the outcome- the dessert was NOT going to set up. SOOO- quickly settling on a solution, I mixed a little more Knox gelatin, sugar & milk, added the egg yolks and stirred just until it came to a boil, then cooled the pan in a bowl of ice water until it began to thicken and folded it into the cream mixture where it should have been in the first place. It’s not how the thing was supposed to be put together but I have my fingers crossed it will set up in time for dessert.

It’s not the first time I have had left over ingredients (just ask my kids about the muffins without the sugar or the pudding cake without the flour.) I have had ample experience trying to multi-task as I fix dinner or being distracted (phone, doorbell, kids, the parrot, grandkids, a flooded basement, dogs. . .) and leaving out an ingredient. I took a machine embroidery class once and the instructor stated not to worry- there were no mistakes- only new stitches. Not always true in cooking-- or in life.

HOWEVER, my abundant experience has left taught me some principles- adapt and seek for creative solutions. It may not turn out as a the grand Bavarian cream I imagined but it may still be edible and be interesting enough to have an appeal as were the garish caterpillars. I used summers when mornings were not as rushed to teach my children to cook. When the pancakes turned out flat as tortillas, we reviewed the ingredients and discovered the child had forgotten the baking soda. Not wanting the potential discouragement to cut short their cooking career, I announced that she had made ‘crepes’ (sort of) and we rolled them around some strawberries from the freezer and topped them with Cool whip and the flat pancakes became an elegant breakfast! The sugarless muffins became edible with a layer of homemade jam. When the yeast was too old, we chewed on “unleavened bread” and talked about the Israelites’ flight out of Egypt. The peanut butter cookies without the peanut butter became dog biscuits. I am far from perfect in putting life together and getting what I expected but I don’t waste time anymore wishing I hadn’t made the mistake or left out an ingredient. Instead, I focus on salvaging what I can, adding the ingredient late if possible and doing the best with what IS instead of what it could have been.

I'm Your Fault

My husband received a Father’s Day card from beloved daughter #2 with this message:

“Some psychologists say a DAD is the single MOST IMPORTANT element in the formation of a child’s character. In other words, I’m mostly your fault.”

We laughed when we read it but the words have been replaying in my mind and there is a core of truth in the concept. My husband is a “straight arrow.” He has received his God-given role to protect, provide and guide his family with unwavering faith and commitment. He has refined the ability to understand his life mission and to labor unceasingly to fulfill the stewardship the Lord entrusted to him. His example has provided his children with lessons in faith in our Father in Heaven and His plan for his children; integrity; unselfish dedication to others; hard, unceasing WORK; setting righteous priorities; the power in setting and steering toward eternal goals; steadiness amidst the storm; self-control; and, above all, the motivating power of unfeigned love.

Each of our children came to us with innate personality and characteristics; they were not unmolded clay. However, my husband’s influence as he has lived and taught a life submissive to our Heavenly Father is evident in the lives of each of our children. Much of what is GOOD in each of our children’s character is truly his fault!

A Loving Family . . .

A loving family multiplies joy and divides sorrow. Almost 30 years ago we moved into our present home and the first person to show any kindness and welcoming spirit was another mother of several young children. It was a beginning of a friendship that has lasted through the years. We have shared burdens and blessings. Last Saturday, her husband of 37 years passed away after an 8-year battle with cancer and chemo. She was surrounded by her grown children as he passed through the veil and they continued to surround her and buoy her up in their shared grief. As I visited with her that day, it struck me that the family she and her husband had brought into the world and nurtured for years was now a huge blessing who were nurturing and sustaining their mother. The family is a divine institution ordained by a God whom we address as Father. There is much sacrifice in bearing and raising children but Heavenly Father, who set the pattern, knows that a loving family multiplies joy and divides sorrow and that principle was powerfully borne witness to me as I sat with my friend that day.

. . . His Wonders to Perform

“God works in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform.” These lines taken from the hymn by William Cowper (1731-1800) suggest that we, his children, do not always understand the path or means the Lord uses to bring to pass his purposes until we recognize the fruit of his wisdom as he directs our lives. At church today, a mother of grown children talked about her frequent prayers that God would grant her patience and it wasn’t until some time later that she recognized the endless frustratingly difficult situations that had come her way while she continued to pray for PATIENCE were, in fact, the ANSWERS to her prayers. Her experience struck a chord with me because I had done the same thing: pray earnestly for patience when I found myself the mother of three young children. I don’t know what I expected- I didn’t really think God would tap me with a magic wand or pour soothing patience into my soul- BUT I was naïve enough not to realize that this life was given us to LEARN to choose God and Godliness and a wise Heavenly Father carefully orchestrates our experiences to give us the opportunity to learn and develop our character and abilities through that experience.

My answer to prayers for patience came in the form of repeated calls to serve in the church nursery. We moved several times in those early years and each time we moved, I was asked to serve in the nursery. I felt I had my own nursery 24 hours a day, seven days a week at home. I wanted a break from kids- not an assignment to care for other people’s kids instead of attending services with the adults. In the end, I made the connection between my prayers and the Lord’s gracious offer to spend extra time with young children where patience was essential. My response was to stop praying for patience. I have grown more patient with young children over the years but the biggest lesson I learned was that God answers prayers by giving us mountains to climb. Attributes of the spirit are developed the same way muscles grow- by repetitive use. Dancers and athletes develop control and co-ordination in addition to strength through constant intense practice. Patience comes in the same way- if God lovingly grants us the conditions that require it.

Never Alone

A woman at church today shared the isolation she felt coming of age from a broken home and the GRATITUDE she felt for having been taught early in life about prayer.  When those who should have been her care-takers failed her, she turned to her Heavenly Father in prayer and found herself surrounded and directed by his loving guidance.  I felt involuntary tears running down my cheeks as I listened to her story.   I, too, have experienced the comfort and strength to move forward that Heavenly Father bestows upon us, his cherished children.  Her testimony of the reality of a loving God who answers our cries for guidance reminded me that even when it appears that we stand alone, surrounded by monumental walls that obscure our view of what lies ahead and around us, that the Lord above is mindful of us and knows our needs.

Past My Prime When it Comes to Mothering

The twins had a croupy cough and due to the current flu scare, the schools sent a letter out instructing parents to keep children home who had ANY of a long list of symptoms.   My daughter still had to be to school where she works part time so called to ask if I could watch the twins and take them to the doctor that morning.  I’m her ready and willing back up when the twins and their brother need me, so I am familiar and comfortable with them.  Having raised seven children, I figure I ought to be able to manage getting two seven-year-olds to the doctor and back without too much trauma.  HOWEVER, Monday morning reminded me that in the arena of childcare, I am definitely past my prime. 

Tipping over the Tee-Pee in the waiting room before I had even finished checking in was a reminder of the youthful exuberance and uncontrolled energy common in little boys.  Luckily our stay in the waiting room was brief and I was glad for the small basket of toys and children’s magazines in the exam room.  The little boy soon tired of the toys and wasn’t interested in the magazines his sister was looking through so he started spinning on the doctor’s stool that screws up and down depending on which way it is turned.  I thought this was a harmless way to entertain himself until he got off and moved across the room to check something out.   As I glanced up I noticed greasy black smudges all over the cream-colored vinyl seat on the doctor’s stool.  I don’t think those where there when we came in.  Then I noticed his hands- greasy black screw-like patterns across his palms with solid black finger tips.  Aaaahhh! 

 Thank heaven for the sink in the corner.  I got him started scrubbing and scrubbing-  more soap- and scrubbing his hands while I worked on the vinyl seat with lathered paper towels.  Luckily, it cleaned up rapidly and I returned to scrubbing the little hands until they were finally pink again and dried them off just before the doctor walked in.   I don’t think he even noticed the waste basket full of greasy paper towels and we were able to escape to the car without further incident.  When the pharmacist informed me it would take half an hour to fill the prescription, I elected to take the twins home and come back later without them to pick it up.    Some day the young boy will be a strong, upstanding citizen.  God isn’t finished with him yet and I am enjoying being witness to the magical process.

 

Don't Forget the Milk

More than once, I have gone to the grocery store for milk and come home with other items that caught my eye but having forgotten to get the milk I went there to buy.  Hence, The List.  Since my teens, I have surrounded myself with visual reminders- written ‘to-do’ lists, pictures and paintings of what is most important, ‘gems of wisdom,’ all of which serve to remind me not to return home without what I came for.  However, to be effective, the list must contain the essential needs AND, I must check the list to make sure I put all the required items in the basket.

            Pres. Spencer W. Kimball taught, “. . . Immortality and Eternal Life constitute the sole purpose of life.”  

(Catholic) Bishop J. Sheen noted that: “Each of us comes into life with fists closed, set for aggressiveness and acquisition. But when we abandon life our hands are open; there is nothing on earth that we need, nothing the soul can take with it.”  

There is much on earth that we need to sustain us while we are here and much that we can wisely acquire and use to accomplish the Lord’s purposes; but if acquisition becomes an end it itself we will find upon returning to Our Father that we have come home without the milk.  May it not be so is my prayer for myself and all of us.            

Peacock in a Tree

Like discovering an elegantly colored peacock in a barren tree on a an overcast day, humor reveals the bright little delights in dark or dreary times.

This can’t be true I hoped desperately as I gazed at the foamy blob seeping into my hair.  You know you are too rushed when you grab the nearest spray can and finish off your hair with bathroom cleaner.   I hate being late.  I hate being disorganized.  But the ‘hurrier I go, the behinder I get,’ a gem of wisdom scrawled onto some crafter’s plaque reminds me.  I blotted the cleaner off my hair as well as I could and arrived at church with very visible evidence that I was definitely experiencing a ‘bad hair day.’ 

Someone once said (sorry, I have tried in vain to find the author), that “Our strength as humans is that we can laugh at ourselves for being ridiculous.  Our weakness is that we have to do it so often.”  When you are rushing so as not to be late because you hate being late and then do something as ridiculous as spray bathroom cleaner on your hair which only makes you show up not only even later but looking ridiculous, you can respond in several ways—cry, scream in anger and frustration—or, laugh.  I have tried all of these responses through the years and can testify that the only response that actually helps get through the ridiculously frustrating stress-related disasters is laughter.  Sure the mess needs to be cleaned up, the being late, the inconveniences and problems caused to others must be addressed.  However, the debilitating frustration, anger and stress are best defused with laughter.  It cleanses and heals and strengthens me to face the challenges and move forward.  All one needs to do is to see an elephant seal or blue-footed booby (a peliagic bird) to know that Heavenly Father has a sense of humor.   I believe the ability to laugh, even in the dark, is another of God’s gifts to not only survive but to enjoy the journey.