All Hail Broke Loose!

Last Saturday morning, we had the worst hail I’ve ever seen in my life!

I know it’s lame that I don’t have pictures, but it was honestly almost the size of golf balls.

The storm came through about 6:30 a.m. Of course the incredible noise woke us up. It took a while to figure out what was going on. It sounded like the slats to the back fence were being hurled at our windows. The whole house was under siege and being pelted from all sides. I finally looked out the window. What the hail?? It was unbelievable! By then a thick white blanket covered the ground.

Luckily the hailstorm didn’t last too long. All I could think of was the car parked out in the driveway and how helpless we felt.

We seemed to survive the storm, so I went to work and forgot about it.


A couple of days later I got an email from my neighbor who had had her roof checked by a roofer, and they needed a new roof!

So I had the roofer come to my house, and I need a new roof too!
The hail even chipped the brick on my house.
And the car?—it now has dimples. But the sun roof is intact.


As I drive around my neighborhood, there are no obvious signs of damage. But everyone I know who has had their roof checked needs a new roof. It's not enough to patch it; the whole thing must be changed. There must be a morality lesson in that.

What I do see in my neighborhood are a lot of signs for roofers, and trucks with roofers in them. Some of them are hail-chasers; they aren’t even from around here. But they know there is work here.


I thought about another storm in my life: an Arctic storm when trees fell through our roof.

I thought again about the lessons I’ve learned from storms:

They do pass.
They can cause damage, seen and unseen.
It’s better to assess the damage than ignore it.
It’s better to fix the damage sooner than later.
Things won’t ever be exactly the same; there always will be remnants.
Some things get better; some are just different.
Good friends are a great help.


We have other storms in life too. They can be financial, social, emotional, or physical.

Sometimes we can see the damage; sometimes it shows up later.

It’s better to fix all you can, and to have good friends to help.


And don’t ever forget the storms.

Be prepared.

Stay close to God.

Appreciate calm skies and sunny days when you have them.

For they too shall pass.

I Remember....

I remember sitting in a Sacrament meeting years ago, surrounded by children. They weren’t mine, so it must have been a Primary Sacrament Meeting Program.
We were singing the Sacrament song, “Behold, the Great Redeemer Die.” I was lost in the beautiful and poetic words of the song, but became distracted by things around me: a couple of girls combing each other’s hair, a little boy poking the child next to him, another girl down the row chatting away out loud. My first impulse was to reach over and shake them. “Don’t you hear these words? Don’t you get it? Don’t you care???”

A breathed out a sign of frustration. Then this thought came to me:

How oft, oh, how very oft, I have been like these children: thoughtless, care-less, forgetful, of the Savior’s Redeeming Love.


I promised then and there that I would not be so carefree, but that I would remember more often, care more deeply, be more changed.

Like a child, I keep forgetting my promise.
I’ve had to make it again and again.
I have to make it every week.


One of my favorite images is that of Christ Knocking at the Door.
It reminds me that we may forget Him, but He never forgets us.
If we even crack the door a little, by just the very thought of Him, He is always right there.


"Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it; prone to leave the God I love," the hymn says.

When I feel far from Him, there is no doubt which one of us has moved.


Remembering brings me back.

Remembering is the key.

It opens the door to the very Christ.



"…if any man open the door, I will come in to him.” Rev. 3:20

Unfinished

In the Zulu township of Sweetwater, near Pietermartizburg, South Africa, lives Edna. Her large family lives in a couple of small cement structures, just one or two rooms each, crudely built right next to each other, with no carpets or running water, and until recently, no electricity. With money made from her quilting, Edna is adding on. Abutting the existing buildings is a half-finished, two-room cinderblock building. She doesn’t have the money to finish it yet.

Just because it’s not finished doesn’t mean it’s not useful. The floors are still dirt and weeds, yet the women cooked a feast there, a native barbecue for dozens of guests. It was a place where people gathered, where food and toys were handed out, where bodies and souls were fed.



I think of myself as an unfinished building, rough and raw and incomplete. My faith and character are built one brick at a time, one experience at a time, one choice at a time.

I am far from complete, yet I am still useful.
I may have mud floors, yet I can give of my self, my means, my service.

My house will not be completed in this life, or in this world.
I don’t have all I need; I can’t do it by myself.

But I can keep working on it, a brick at a time,
and while it’s under construction, it can be useful.


There is no door yet, so it’s always open.

Come on in.

Let’s build together.

2008 - A New Year

Last year, in lieu of New Year’s resolutions, we chose a word to focus on for the year. I liked that.

I’ve known for a while what I wanted my word to be for 2008.
Then it was kind of picked for me when our bishop chose it as a focus for our ward this year.

The word is - REMEMBER.

I’ve wanted for a long time to be better at remembering, to remember more often, more carefully, more profoundly.
The ironic thing is, I always forget.

I watched the funeral and other specials about President Gordon B. Hinckley, all the while remembering all the great things he did in his life, all his life, personally and for others.
How blessed we all are for having known him.
How much we saw the hand of God working in and through him.

During a break I read Henry B. Eyring’s General Conference talk, “O Remember, Remember”. Years ago he had an experience that taught him to ask himself every day, “Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us or our children or our family today?” And as he pondered and looked for those experiences, he saw things he never would have seen.
The inspiration that came to him was, “I’m not giving you these experiences for yourself. Write them down.”

Finally, in February (I’m getting a late start this year), I took time to ask myself that question, and look for the answers. And, oh, the things I saw that I would not have seen.
I’ve often heard talk of thankfulness, of gratitude journals and such, and know full well the benefits and blessings of counting your blessings, which none of us do enough.
But it seems a different thing to look specifically for the hand of God in your life.

How often in the scriptures are we admonished to remember, -- to remember what the Lord God hath done for the children of men, and for you.
It seems to be an antidote, for when we remember,
we are not inclined to murmur or complain,
nor to stray or wander,
nor to be derelict in our duties.

Every week we promise that we “will always remember Him,”
and in so doing we are promised that “will have His Spirit to be with us.”
That Spirit heals and heartens, lifts and leads, and brings us joy.
Why is it so hard to remember that simple, sacred combination?

I’m getting older. Remembering anything is hard to do, but….

To recognize and to remember the hand of God every day is my goal this year.

I hope I don’t forget.