Riches

I've been rich and I've been poor, and rich is better.

I don't remember who said this, but I second the motion.

Money may not buy happiness, but it sure calms your nerves.
And makes life a lot easier.

I had lots of kids, and little money.

There were times when I babysat extra kids so we could buy food, didn't have a dollar to rent a movie, or gas to get to church. We must hold the world record for being stranded the most times in junker cars. We once lived in a place that had no address, no phone, and had no car at all. My husband hitchhiked every day many hours and many miles to look for a job. I walked out to the road and caught a ride with friends to church every Sunday with my four kids under 5. I'll never forget when I was making bread to feed my babies with the last bit of flour in the house, and while I was on the phone my helpful daughter dumped all the flour into the dough, ruining the bread and using up all of the precious flour. What a blessing it was when someone brought us a pound of hamburger and marshmallows to treat my kids. From there we moved into a 4-room house with six kids, and had eight when we moved out. My children grew up without having new clothes for school, going to McDonald's, or having store-bought sweetened cold cereal for breakfast.

I was very gratified when my eldest teen-aged daughter once said,
"We don't have any money, but we aren't poor."

She was right. We didn't have money, but we were rich in the things that mattered.
We were not deprived of love or friends or physical comforts.
We were busy and happy and productive.
We had faith and purpose and meaning to our lives.
And we were having a lot of fun.
We weren't poor at all.
Indeed, we were rich.

Debt

I'M FREE!!!

I went back to work part-time over 5 years ago, partly to get out of the house, and partly to get out of debt. My 10-hour a week job immediately jumped to nearly full-time and I got out of the house plenty. But it has taken me until this year to finally pay off all my personal credit card debt.

Why on earth did it take so long?

My debt wasn't excessive. Mostly it was car repairs and airplane tickets. But I just kept replenishing the debt (can you replenish a negative?). It was fun to take my kids shopping. (And there were college and mission expenses.)

I needed this quote hanging on my fridge AND my bathroom mirror:

"Interest never sleeps nor sickens nor dies; it works on Sundays and holidays; it never takes a vacation; it never rests; it is never laid off work; it never works reduced hours. It is as hard and soulless as a granite cliff. Once in debt, interest is your companion every minute of the day and night; you cannot shun it or slip away from it; you cannot dismiss it; it yields neither to entreaties, demands, or orders; and whenever you get in its way or cross its course or fail to meet its demands, it crushes you." -J. Reuben Clark

I've asked myself many times why it is we like to shop, to acquire things, and how we all came to be so materialistic. Where did we get our "ceaseless lust for the inessential."
We shop to define ourselves.
We shop to feed our fantasies.
We shop to be accepted and belong to groups.
We shop for its sense of personal control and power.
We shop to celebrate holidays and people and events.
We shop to be up on the latest and greatest.
We shop so people will like us.
We shop for entertainment.
We shop for the attention we get.
We shop to show our position in society.
We shop to make ourselves more attractive.
We shop because we can; we have the freedom of time and money.
We shop because we don't want to miss out on the excitement of life.

We forget this basic fact:
Money is an article which may be used as a universal provider for everything--except happiness, and a universal passport to everywhere--except heaven. --Wall Street Journal

Money buys you food, but not appetite, medicine, but not health, acquaintances, but not friends. It can buy a house, but not a home, a bed, but not sleep, a clock, but not time, a book, but not wisdom, position, but not respect.

Recent studies have shown that instead of buying happiness, money sometimes buys unhappiness, dissatisfaction, low self-esteem, depression and even a greater tendency towards illness.

I don't know how much I'll change my shopping habits, but I know that I feel free--free from debt, from interest, from obligations that eat up my income. And I want to stay that way.

Being free FROM that, I am now free FOR other things.
I just have to figure out what those things are.

The Red Dock

I grew up on a lake in Washington state.

When I think of Home I see the view of the lake out the picture window at the front—or was it the back?--of our house. In that picture is the Red Dock.

Memories flood my mind of things from another time.
I remember my sister almost drowning, scabs from my new fins, teenage ski parties, fireworks, and watching my own children pick lily pads.

The snapshots in my siblings’ minds must differ from mine,
yet so much time and space were shared together.
Summers we somersaulted down the hill to the edge of the dock.
Winters we made snow angels and walked out onto the frozen lake.
The seasons came and went.

The Big House was home to the ten of us.
The Little House was home to various family and friends.
Some of us came back with our children to live on the lake for a time.
Many things happened over the years in the lives of those who lived there. But everything seemed to settle in the view of the lake and the red dock.

The dock eventually lost its awning, faded to sky-gray, and got repainted. It housed a dinghy, then a small motorboat, eventually ski boat, and later my brother’s jet skis. Often it sat empty and forlorn.

A second dock was added.
Both houses were razed, and another one built.
New houses sprung up around the lake.

It is the nature of life to change.
But some things stay the same.

To see the lake still brings a sense of peace.
To sit on the Red Dock is to come Home.

Mockingbird

I have a mockingbird nesting in my chimney.
They are called that because they make/mock the sounds of many different birds. It's like they don't know what kind of bird they are.

It reminds me of the movie "Runaway Bride" where Julia Robert's character doesn't know who she is, and she changes in every relationship.

I've known people that sing a different song depending on what group of people they are with. I've wondered if I'm one of them.

Adaptability is great. Getting along with people is too.
And it's true that certain people bring out certain parts of your personality.

But it makes me wonder, who is the real me? Who is the real you?
Who are we when we are all alone?


I like to hear my mockingbird sing. I like its many voices.
Maybe, like me, he's searching for who he is.
Maybe he knows who he is. Maybe he is all those songs he sings.


"Let us get our instruments tightly strung and our melodies sweetly sung. Let us not die with our music still in us." --Spencer W. Kimball

Choose

The topic in Church on Sunday was agency. It reminded me of a quote I used to keep on my fridge:

A man cannot chase two rabbits,
for he will catch the one and lose the other,
or he will lose them both.

This seems to me another way of saying,
"No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon." (Matthew 6:24)

We try so hard to keep a foot in each world, the temporal and the spiritual.
Then when our legs start to spread, like having one foot on the dock and the other in a moving boat, we realize how easy it is to lose our balance.


We can't have our cake and eat it too.
We can't always have the praise of the world and please God.
We can't follow popular opinion and follow Christ.
We can't adapt ourselves to a telestial world and be prepared for a Celestial.
It's like chasing two rabbits.



I don't want to be empty-handed at the end of my life, having missed both rabbits. So I will choose now which rabbit to chase, which Master to serve.

There's really only one choice.

Whining

It is so hot here,
and my life isn't what I want it to be,
and I'm not what I wish I was, and....

I like to whine and complain as much as the next person -- well, I hope not as much as some people. It validates me; it feeds my humanness.

But something about it always feels uncomfortable, like an ill-fitting garment. It's just wrong.

It's something about missing the roses for the thorns.

Complaining is maximizing the good things of the past and
minimizing the good things of the present.

Whining, it seems to me, is almost always evidence of a lack of appreciation.

God meant for us to be happy. That can only happen when we notice and appreciate the good in ourselves, in others, in events, and in our lives.

And so I try to remember this quote from The Talmud:
“A person will be called to account on Judgment Day for every permissible thing he might have enjoyed but did not.”

So, Self, no whining.

Count your blessings and have joy!


“God does not dwell in gloom and melancholy, but in light and love.” Ezra Taft Benson

Just thinkin'

Every time I get on the blog I think warmly of Jennifer.

I think of how sweet she was to set up a blog for me so I didn't have to figure out how to do it.

I think of her friendships and generosity that got her into blogging in the first place.

I think how nice she was to drag us in, and put us in touch with each other.

I think how great it is to share, and to respond to each other.

The silly thing is, I'm so glad every time I log on that she chose a username and password I can remember! That means a lot to me.
("Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most. ")


And I can't think of Jennifer without thinking of Jill and all that she is and shares with us, and all the other great blogging friends that enrich our lives.

Every time I blog, I think these things.
I thought it was time I let y'all know.

Thanks! I love you.

Things that make me happy

One of the most fun things we've done in our family is make happy lists.
Here's a part of my never-before-shared list.

My children getting along
Feeling the Spirit
Being all alone in the middle of the night
Taking off on a trip
7-Up and Raspberry Sherbet Float
Candy corn
Snow--if I don't have to go out in it and I have power and food
A car that works
A good conversation
Christmas--what I was a child but not as the mom
My mother's face
Ferry boats in Washington
Brownies
Studying for a talk or lesson
Hot apple cider with buttered graham crackers
Mary Engelbreit
Aria from the Magic Flute by Mozart
Crossword puzzles, if they're not too hard
Really good bread
Mountains
Hot Russian Tang on a snowy day or when I'm sick
Really good Washington fruit--raspberries, strawberries, or peaches
A good book
Quiet late-night talks with my children or grandchildren
A child's laughter
Grilled cheese sandwich, regular
Grilled cheese sandwich on sour dough bread with 3 kinds of cheese and a slice of tomato
E-mail
The memory of my own box of Campfire marshmallows in my stocking one Christmas
Being appreciated
Divinity
Comfortable knit clothing
My "Cave" which is my own space
Kindness, thoughtfulness, and goodness
A new idea
Really bright colors
Being with my sisters
Being with my kids
Being with my grandchildren
Dancing, or watching others dance
Humble people
Variety--new sights and sounds and flavors
When someone does my dishes
Peanut Butter toast with Miracle Whip
New clothes or shoes
Remembering the summer of our folk dance show and "The Prom"
Phase Ten, when it doesn't make anyone sad or mad; otherwise, Scattergories
Dropping off to sleep when you are really tired
Being needed

Lessons from the Lost Tribes

Last night our Relief Society Enrichment study group met. The topic was The Lost Ten Tribes of Israel. It wasn't the most exciting thing I've studied, at least in the beginning. But these things have a way of picking up as you begin to see the big picture and how exciting it all is.

Along the way, I learned a few things, such as....

1. The Lost Tribes are not lost to the Lord. And neither are we.
No matter how alone we feel, how separated or different or disenfranchised, the Lord knows where we are, how we are, and what we are.

2. The Lord has spectacular plans for His children.
In spite of our wickedness, our bad choices, our inadequacies, He has quite a show planned for us, and a Promised Land prepared for us at the end of our journey.

3. There is purpose to everything that happens.
We may be driven out, away or towards something not of our choosing, but it just might put us in a place or circumstance that will be for our blessing or the blessing of others.

4. Whatever our circumstance in life, there is always the choice to be made to follow the Lord or to follow the world. And those choices make all the difference to us and to those around us,
in this world and in the next.

5. We really are one big family, with God as our Father and Jesus as our Brother, and where e'er our paths may take us, we can find our way Home.

In my searching, did I find the Lost Tribes? No.

But I found a part of me, a part of my forgotten identity.
I found I was part of the House of Israel, of a holy nation, of a peculiar people.
I found a sense of belonging to a family rich with tradition and faith.
I found the great love of the Father and Jehovah for all of their children.
I found purpose in our responsibility to gather those who are lost.
I found a great destiny, if I make and keep sacred covenants.
I found the way Home.

"To believe in God is to know that all the rules will be
fair and that there will be wonderful surprises."

Talent of Spirituality

Of all the quotes I've read and collected, and that have been the guideposts of my life, there is one that stands out above the rest for me. I got it out of a Young Women's book years ago. It is:

"The greatest talent that you will develop upon this earth will be the talent of spirituality.
It will be the means of achieving everything in this life that is really worthwhile."

In high school, all of my siblings were very active in school. They were cheerleaders, drill team members, class presidents and student body officers. I chose at that time of my life to put my time and efforts into church instead of school. I have held callings since I was twelve years old.

It doesn't mean I am better than my siblings, then or now.
It doesn't mean I have a particular talent for spirituality, or that I have developed it as I should have.

But I have found that the things that matter most in life are of a spiritual nature.
Spiritual things have brought me knowledge, understanding, personal growth, and the most satisfying and enriching of experiences.
Truly, everything that is worthwhile in my life has come by way of spiritual things.

Imagine my surprise when I recently came upon this quote by Bruce R. McConkie:
"The greatest and most important talent or capacity that any of the spirit children of the Father could gain is the talent of spirituality. Most of those who gained this talent were chosen to come to earth as members of the house of Israel. They were elected to receive the blessings of Abraham." They are the sheep that know the voice of their Shepherd.

There are many things that we can do in and with our lives.
There are many talents that we can and should develop and share.

A talent, however small, can be enlarged.
A talent, to be improved, takes work.
What talent, gifts from God, would the Lord rather help magnify than that of spirituality?

Things that are spiritual are of deep import and ever-lasting.
They are the things that matter most.
They are what will bring us that which is most worthwhile, now and forever.

Enrich: to make richer or give more wealth to

Our ward Relief Society finally started an Enrichment Group I'm interested in. It's a Gospel study group. We met for the first time this week.

We jumped in with both feet and chose the topic of Polygamy.
I found the study of and the discussion about Plural Marriage to be enlightening, uplifting, and enriching. It made me richer in my knowledge of Church history, in my understanding of the workings of God, and in my testimony of the Restoration of all things. I feel a greater appreciation for faithful Saints, many of whom are my ancestors. I feel stronger and better for the experience I shared with other sisters. It was, in short, enriching.
Three cheers for Relief Society.

As I think about the spiritual experiences I've had in my life, many of them came because of service. But many of them came because of study. I know everyone has different needs, abilities and desires, but for me studying the gospel has brought me the most amazing experiences.

As scholars go, I really am quite lazy and casual. I have the attention span of a grade-schooler and the memory of a worm.
But like any teacher, the Lord loves and rewards a curious mind.
I find there is great power in coming to know, to understand, and to appreciate the Lord and His works.

It was my Father who opened windows for me to see that there is always more to learn. Thanks, Dad.

I've learned I do better when I know the whys and wherefores of things.

And knowledge is just so-- well, enriching.

Knowledge is power.
The more you read, the more you know.
The more you know, the smarter you grow.
The smarter you grow, the stronger your voice,
In expressing your view, or making your choice.

To Be A Pioneer

Many times in my life I have heard people say,
“Oh, I could never be a pioneer.”

When they think of a pioneer, they are usually thinking of the trek west. But there were many hard things that were required of the early Saints.

From the get-go the Latter-day Saints were a peculiar people.
They believed in angels, in living prophets, in modern revelation;
they left home and family to gather to Zion; they tried to live a United Order; they subscribed to a different code of health, and even practiced polygamy.

They were in many ways required to be different—
different from their families and friends,
from prevailing Christian thought,
from the mores of society,
and even from government.
For this they were mobbed and persecuted and driven from their homes.
Did they want that? Was it easy?
No, but they did it because the fire of their faith gave them the desire to, at any cost, be obedient to the Living God.

Maybe we're afraid that we couldn't have been a pioneer.
Just maybe we're afraid that we could.

Today we have our own mountains to climb.
Our mettle is being put to the test.
There are altars calling for our sacrifices.

Today we are asked to traverse a cultural wilderness (Neal A. Maxwell).
Do we need people with a greater vision for the world?
Do we need people who dare to be different?
Do we need to do hard things?
Absolutely.

And we CAN do it--
because of the light and truth that we have that the world doesn’t,
because of the fire of our faith that makes us want to be obedient at all cost, in spite of being persecuted or seeming peculiar.

And that journey, if we choose to accept it, will take us to a Promised Land, not just to the Celestial Kingdom of our God,
but to a place of freedom and peace and abundance in this life.

Whether we like to sleep under the stars or not,
we can be a pioneer --
by following a prophet,
by heeding the Voice of the Spirit,
by being obedient to the Lord at all costs.

We can, and, indeed, we must.

On Our Own

"Here am I,
The dishes barely done and night long since fallen,
The children would not go to bed
And would not go and
Would not go--

And now they are gone.
Gone to places of their own with children of their own
Who will not go to bed and will not go...
And I have taught them what I could and
They have learned the things they would
And now they've gone their way alone to learn the rest
Most on their own."


Once in a while someone says what you feel when you haven't words for it.
I love this part of a poem by Jaroldeen Edwards.

I spent so much of my life doing dishes and trying, unsuccessfully, to get kids to sleep. That time is spent--gone--and I can't help but wonder if it was spent well.

I see in my children a mix of lessons learned and unlearned, genes dominant and recessive, choices good and bad. What part did I play in who they are?

And what part did they play in who I am? Altered by interactions with each child, influences of each personality, experiences shared together, --they are part of me as I am part of them.

Here am I.
The hour is late, and I cannot sleep and cannot sleep and cannot sleep.
I remain,
And have much to learn and do and feel,
Most on my own.

Mother's Day Revisited

I was asked to speak in church on Mother's Day this year.
Luckily I was out of town and couldn't do it.

But I've wondered what I would have said.

There is great diversity and complexity of feelings among women on Mother's Day. What do they want to hear on that notable day? What don't they want to hear?

One year in Relief Society, the teacher went around the room and gave every woman a chance to stand up and share something about their mother. I was shocked and saddened by the number of women who didn't stand up, who couldn't talk about their mother, who hunched over and hid in agony. What do you say to those women? I wanted to weep for them, and for the gratitude I felt for my own good mother.

To those whose children have gone astray in spite of their best efforts--
To those who can't bear children--
To those who have never married--
What do you say to them?

To those who are exhausted, who have given their body and soul and life to their children--how can you begin to name and measure and appreciate all that they do, and the depth and breadth of their influence?

Someday I may attempt to write a Mother's Day talk.
I don't know what I'll say, but I may include a poem that I shared with my mother. She shared it with her posterity at our last reunion. I know it's how she felt. It's also how I feel.

A Mother's Day Sonnet
by Bertha A. Kleinman

No pedestal for me on Mother's Day,
Nay, rather let me seek my children's shrine,
And there on bended knee attempt to say
Some tithe of what is in this heart of mine.

I want no laurel wreathed about my head,
I so at fault, so human and remiss;
Mine be the hands to halo you instead,
Who gave to me a royal day like this.

I ask no recompense--I have it all;
Each day brims up my measure of content,
As your success, magnificent or small,
Becomes my own in double lavishment.
So love me for the all you may not see,
And hold me close for what I want to be.

To My Children on Mother's Day 2006

It's not that we didn't have our bumps along the way, or that it was easy;
I wasn't a perfect mother and you weren't perfect children.
But overall I have loved being a mother. I have loved being YOUR mother.
It is the most fun and rewarding thing I've done in my life, even if it was the hardest.

As babies and toddlers you were adorable, sweet and fun.
As older children you were eager learners and reasonably obedient.
For someone like me who didn't like teenagers even when I was one, that stage of life was relatively painless and even enjoyable.

As adults, I cannot tell you how grateful I am to have children that I love, that I like, that I respect and admire, and who are my friends.
You continue to delight me and honor me by the goodness and richness of your lives.

Thank you for being good kids, and good people.
Thank you for making motherhood fun, and for making me a better person.
Thank you for the constant joy you have brought into my life.

"I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth." 3 John 1:4

I love you more than words can say.

Mother

Empty Nest

“When the kids are grown and gone…” is a phrase I thought and said many times.
It’s not that I yearned for it, but I did look forward to it.

Remember, I’m a loner.
I spent my teen-age years alone in my room.
All I ever wanted was to live alone.
Having kids was an infringement on my privacy.

And I had plenty to do before I had children.

But the most fun and interesting thing I’ve done in my life is to have children.
For the most part, I truly enjoyed them and the journey they took me on.

Adolescence is hard on parents and teens. I think it’s part of the separation process to make parting easier. Dare I say, sometimes you’re almost glad to get them out of your hair?

When our boys left on missions, the joy of where they were going, what they would be doing, and what it would do for them by far overrode any sadness I felt at their leaving.

When any of our kids left home, for missions or marriage, for college or to be on their own, the excitement of their venture, their chance to make their own choices, to find themselves, to build their own lives overrode the sadness of their departure. I was truly happy for them and their opportunities.

(I might have been even happier if they took all their stuff.)

And yet,
there is the thing about that hole they leave,
--in our house, in our family, in my heart.

It helps that they are functional adults, good citizens, good people. I feel like I did my job.

But my days don’t revolve around them any more.
There are fewer demands on my time.
Finally I can do what I want.

But all I ever really wanted was to be their mother.


Surely there are things I miss, but you can’t turn the clock back, and you wouldn’t wish the pain of growing up again on anyone.

So within the echoing walls of an empty house, I find joy that my children are living, loving, learning, and having fun like I did.

My nest may be empty, but my heart is full.

Thought for today

From the five people you meet in heaven by Mitch Albom:

“Parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them.
They move on. They move away.
The moments that used to define them—a mother’s approval, a father’s nod—are covered by moments of their own accomplishments.

It is not until much later, as the skin sags and the heart weakens, that children understand; their stories, and all their accomplishments, sit atop the stories of their mothers and fathers, stones upon stones, beneath the waters of their lives.”

Setting Records

We’ve been setting records at work: records for most hours worked in a day, most hours worked in a week, the latest we’ve stayed at work, the most days worked in a row without a day off.
But the truck is loaded and on its way to Utah, my stake meeting is over, and I feel like I can catch my breath.
It’s only a brief respite, but I’ll enjoy it for a moment.

Some have said to me, Why do you do it? Why don’t you just say no? Why don’t you just leave at 5?
Indeed, why don’t I?

I’ve worked with people that see their job as a job, as a place to make money, and their right to take breaks and leave at 5.
I’m not one of those, at work or in the church.
For some reason I care about the business, I care about the owners, and I feel ownership in the success of both.
With church, I care about the business, I care about the owners, and I feel ownership in the success of both.

I feel a desire to do what needs to be done when it needs to be done, even if it's inconvenient.
I feel a reciprocal relationship: I help them and they help me.
When there’s less to be done, I’m fine to go home and do nothing.

I think I absorbed this from my parents. And my church experience has taught me sacrifice, getting outside myself, and working for a greater cause. I don’t think I can change any more than I can change my height or the color of my eyes.
(That is, until laziness or apathy or fatigue sets in.)

For now, while I can, I will do my part.

I do it for them, and I do it for me.

And I’m grateful that I can.

Show Season

It's show season where I work, at Linda's Electric (Longarm) Quilters.
That means we are crazy busy printing hundreds of patterns that we roll and package by hand, ordering tons of product, planning booths, making signs and flyers, designing new products, seeing to a hundred details, etc. etc. etc. on top of our already busy, understaffed business.

The difference this year is that instead of one big show, we are doing 6 shows in the same time frame, all over the country, and with fewer people.
Another difference is that we are trying to get a new retreat in Wyoming built, ready, up and running as a business, arranging classes, food, lodging, advertising etc. for that.
Also, our small company decided this month to open a second store in Sandy, Utah--two weeks from now!! That's a whole 'nother business to start from scratch, staff, furnish, advertise, order for, etc. etc. etc.
Did I mention that we are not only understaffed, but the staff we have lacks the knowledge, experience and talent to do any of this?

Another difference is I have a stake YW calling that is very demanding right now. (Trek, YW Recognition, conferences, etc.)
I wasn't home a single night last week and I'm in charge of Stake Auxiliary training this week.

I tell you all this so you know why you haven't heard from me, and why you probably won't hear from me much for the next 6 weeks.

But reading fun and interesting blogs gets me through my exhausting days, and feeds my soul.

So carry on, and I'll pop in when I can.

"I still find each day too short
for all the thoughts I want to think,
all the walks I want to take,
all the books I want to read,
and all the friends I want to see."
--John Burrough

Continue

From Gordon B. Hinckley's biography by Sheri Dew:

"Elder Hinckley stepped onto the flagstone platform of Preston Station in the late afternoon of June 29 and spotted a young American waiting for him. Elder Kent S. Bramwell, a bright and enthusiastic district president from Ogden, Utah, vigorously shook his hand and then led the way to their 'digs' at 15 Wadham Road."

Kent Bramwell is my uncle, my father's brother.

"Elder Bramwell had no intention of breaking his new companion in gradually, and as they walked home he announced that they were set to hold a street meeting that night in the public square. The thought of preaching to uninterested passersby was daunting, and Elder Hinckley responded immediately. 'You've got the wrong man to go with you.' But Elder Bramwell was undeterred, and a few hours later the two missionaries walked to the market and began to sing. Gradually a crowd gathered, and both missionaries taught and bore testimony."

Elder Hinckley had a hard time at first. He wrote to his father to see if he could return home. His father and his companion had a part in his staying on his mission.
A number of years later President Hinckley went back to 15 Wadham Road. In his journal, he wrote:
"Marjorie and I went up into the bedroom where Brother Bramwell and I had lived and where I made an important decision in my life to think less of myself and work with greater devotion as a missionary.'

When called to be an Assistant to the Twelve, Gordon B. Hinckely began his first talk as a general authority: "I am reminded of a statement made by my first missionary companion when I received a letter of transfer to the European Mission Office. "Well, you must have helped an old lady across the street in the preexistence. This has not come because of anything you've done here."

Of course, Elder Hinckley grew up to be a prophet.
My uncle went on to become a successful business man, and held some important posts, including mayor of Ogden. But he didn't stay active in the church.

One of the guideposts of my life has been the saying,
Living the gospel is like shaving:
it doesn't matter how good a job you do one day, --
you have to do it again the next.

It isn't about what positions you have held--in or out of the church, or what good or nice things you've done in your life. There's no resting on your laurels.
It's about continuing to prove your faithfulness every day;
it's about staying on the right path;
it's about enduring to the end.

"Continue" is my friend Jill's favorite word in the scriptures.
It is a matter of life and death-- spiritually speaking.
So be not weary in well-doing.

"Continue in these things even unto the end,
and you shall have a crown of eternal life ."

Talents

My mother was a simple farm girl from Soda Springs, Idaho.
Her only claim to fame was that their farm abutted Ezra Taft Benson’s.

My mother didn’t think she was anything special.
She didn’t think she could write.
She didn’t think she was a speaker.
She didn’t think she was artistic or creative.

I think my mother was mistaken.

My mother always had me write the family Christmas cards because she didn’t think she could write very well. Her small, even penmanship reflected the steadiness and consistency of her character. The notes she wrote on birthday cards were always the best part of her thoughtful gifts. When she did write a talk or memory, it was interesting and well-written. And she wrote daily in a diary for much of her life. I think of my mother as a writer.

I don’t remember my mother giving formal speeches, but I’ve heard her bear her testimony and have read talks she’s given. In her quiet, sweet way she spoke articulately and confidently, with humor, of those things that meant the most to her. I think of my mother as an orator.

Maybe my mother didn’t draw or paint, but using her eye for color and design, she decorated our house many times. She created several memorable Christmas cards with family pictures. Her hobby was shopping and her fetish was to have everything match. She knew the names of every shade of brown and beige there is. I think of my mother as an artist.

Mother may have admitted to being a musician, though only a fair one. She was the ward organist most of her life. She collected music and took us to concerts. But she never mentioned the beautiful alto voice she sang so softly with.

My mother thought that all of her children were smarter than she was, but she was a college graduate in a day when few women went to college. Mother was smart and wise.

Mother was a wonderful cook. She loved pretty dishes and fussed over presentation. I shared many hours in the kitchen, in front of cooking shows, and reading cookbooks with her. It was her love of cooking that made cooks of her daughters, and now her granddaughters.

My mother was over 30 when she married, and she still tried to get as many souls into this world as she possibly could. Mother never wavered in her faith and testimony and duty where the Gospel was concerned. She single handedly reared eight children, all faithful still.

I sometimes describe my mother as “an old shoe,” a regular kind of girl.
But she was anything but ordinary.


Like my mother, I think my children are smarter and more capable than I am.
Someday they may realize that their talents and abilities, their intelligence and their values, lived long before they did. The seeds in the parents blossom in their children.

I hope my children will have the opportunity and the determination to magnify what they have been given.

Thank You, Jennifer!

Six of my eight children and their spouses are together in Utah this weekend.
I am far away in Texas.
Sigh.

They are having dinner together and having a family baby shower for Valerie.
I am here and not there.
Pout.

The good of having a job is that I can afford to fly to see my kids.
The bad of having a job is that I'm not always free to go to my kids.

And what would this weekend be like for them without Jennifer?
I can't imagine.
Would they have a place to gather to eat and visit and play games?
Would anyone organize them enough to get them all together?
Would they even come to Utah if they didn't know they had a couch to sleep on and someone to feed and take care of them?

What, indeed, would this family be like without Jennifer's generous and gathering heart?

Jennifer has been shepherding her siblings since they were born.
They may not always have appreciated it.
But no one has done more for keeping our family close and in touch and in the same room as Jennifer has.

I especially appreciate it when I am far away in Texas.

Because of Jennifer, we are, individually and collectively,
better, stronger, happier.

There is no way to measure the depth and breadth and length of the blessings we receive at her hand.
There are no words to thank her for all she does.
Just thanks, and more thanks, and more thanks.

Thank you....
Thank you....
Thank you....
Thank you...
Thank you...
Thank you.

God Doesn't Make Junk

A young man wrote into the New Era:
“My friends say I have an inferiority complex, but as far as I can tell, I’m just inferior. Everyone else is smarter, better looking and more talented than I am. I just am inferior.”

I know just how he feels. I am a middle child in a large family, and all my siblings are smarter, more capable, and more sure of themselves than I am. It’s just a fact: I am inferior.

I learned a long time ago you don’t have to look far or long in any aspect of life to find someone who is better than you are. Conversely, you don’t have to look far or long to find those who aren’t doing as well as you are.

It’s a game we humans play—ever comparing ourselves to others. I call this game Comparisonopoly. Instead of amassing properties and hotels, we amass evidence that we’re not as good as everyone else.
It’s not a fair game because we usually compare our worst with someone else’s best.
Like Phase 10, it’s a game that is always frustrating and makes you want to cry.
It is a game that nobody wins.

This is not a game Heavenly Father had in mind for our peace, our happiness, or our progress in this life.


Someone defined self-worth as
“When we know who we are
without having to show what we know, what we have, and what we can do.”


We may feel inferior, but do you think our Maker thinks for one second that we are?

"Now this is the truth. We humble people, we who feel ourselves sometimes so worthless, so good-for-nothing, we are not so worthless as we think. There is not one of us but what God's love has been expended upon. There is not one of us that he has not cared for and caressed. There is not one of us that he has not desired to save and that He has not devised means to save. We may be insignificant and contemptible in our own eyes and in the eyes of others, but the truth remains that we are children of God and that he has actually given his angels charge concerning us." --George Q. Cannon

Sounds to me like every one of us is pretty special.

Hold Your Hat

"It is madness to wear ladies hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmuts!
Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews!
For the sleeping God may wake someday and take offense,
or the waking God may draw us out to where we can never return."
--Annie Dillard

I think of this quote sometimes when I'm sitting in church.
Looking through the beam in my own eyes, I see complacency.
We don't seem to comprehend the glories of eternity;
we aren't particularly curious about knowing more;
we're not overly concerned about how it should change us.

I wonder when God, in his infinite patience, will have had enough.

I'll never forget sitting with the children for a Primary program one day. While we were singing the very moving words to "He Died! The Great Redeemer Died" the children were combing each other's hair, hitting each other, or chattering away. I just wanted to shake them and say, "Pay attention! Don't you get what this means?! Don't you know how blessed you are?!!"

I've had similar experiences since. I often want to go and shake people.
Sometimes the offending person is me.

I, for one, have determined to try His patience a little less,
by pondering, praising, and 'ppreciating.

At least on the days I remember this quote.

If only...

I've often thought,
I could be a perfect mother if I had perfect children.
I could be an ideal wife if I had an ideal husband.
I could serve often and well if I didn't have to work, or be sick, or have too many kids.
I could be so valiant if I were in better circumstances.

Life sure seems to get in the way of our wanting to do all the right things.

Maybe, just maybe, that's how it's supposed to be.
Anyone can drive a car down a straight road.
But it takes focus, skill and experience to negotiate curves, roadblocks and traffic.

I've come to believe that it is in common, everyday living that we develop character.
We may spend our days mopping floors, working on an assembly line, changing diapers, sitting in a photo booth, or sick in a hospital.
Whatever our circumstances we have opportunities to develop Christ-like characteristics of love, kindness, patience, devotion, holiness.
It is not for us to walk an easy road, but to be pure among the impure, to choose the right in the midst of storms, to be valiant in the dark.

Every day, choices.
Every day, shaping a character.
Every day, molding an eternal identity.


"Hell is not a place full of fire and brimstone and little red figures with pitchforks. Hell is the understanding that if I was sarcastic to my daughter when she was a little girl, she will be sarcastic to my grandchildren, and it will be my fault. Hell is the realization that every time I tell a lie because the truth is embarrassing, I am voting to make this a more deceitful world for my family to live in.
"And heaven is not harps and wings and bright sunshine. Heaven is the awareness that every time I did something good, even if nobody thanked me for it, and every time I held back the angry word and resisted temptation and nobody could possibly have known how hard it was for me to do that, the world is changed by the good thing that I did. Permanently changed for the better." --Rabbi Kushner

From a Rabbi

Harold Kushner, a Jewish Rabbi, spoke at a BYU Forum in 1994.
(He said BYU was the only place he got to be the Gentile.)

I wasn't there, but I love what he said:

"I am a traditional Jew, and I observe the biblical dietary laws. There are certain foods I don't eat. I suspect most of you assume I go around all day saying to myself, "Boy, would I love to eat pork chops, but that mean old God won't let me." Not so. The fact of the matter is, I go around all day saying, "Isn't it incredible? There are five billion people on this planet, and God cares what I have for lunch. And God cares who I sleep with. And God cares how I earn and spend my money. And God cares what kind of language I use.
"Do you see what this view of God does? I am not diminished by being told there are certain things I may not do because they are wrong. Rather, it enhances me. It turns me into a real human being, somebody whose deeds, whose decisions, whose choices matter at the highest level.”

If we sometimes wonder if what we do matters, if we matter, we can remember this.

Sometimes we think we don’t count for much, when the truth is that every thought we think, every word we say, every act we do, counts.

Sometimes we think that because God loves us no matter what we do that it doesn’t matter what we do, when the reality is, because God loves us, it matters at the highest level what we do.

“This knowledge endows every day, every walking hour of our lives, with a sense of our significance,” that what we do has meaning, that how we live matters, that our choices are of eternal import.

Isn’t that nice to know?

Opinions

I’m getting a reputation in my later years for being opinionated.
That is so funny to me.

Maybe because I grew up in the middle of a large family and no one ever asked my opinion. It wouldn’t have done any good; I didn’t have one. I didn’t need one.

Much of my life I was just a milquetoast that went along with everyone and everything. I guess everyone’s gotta grow up sometime.

My children will tell you that in my maturing I have become more blunt and outspoken. That's not a compliment to me. But I saw it happen to my own mother, so maybe it’s normal.

When I do express an opinion, I am well aware that someone else will see it differently, that someone smarter will see a larger and more accurate view, and that opinions change more often than Paris Hilton’s outfit, even mine.

So of what use are opinions? Not much, unless they are based in truth. But they help us get by in this vastly complex and incomprehensible world. They make us sound like we know something. They let us feel, if only for a moment, like we are somebody.

I like to think that if I have an opinion, it’s because I’ve lived long enough or thought hard enough to have one. Even then most tastes, preferences and opinions can be explained by physiology or experience, not by any great intelligence.

And you will find that there are a great many things in this world about which I have no opinion at all.

So forgive me the few I have. It’s all there is to me.
I promise I’ll try to put some thought behind them.
And I'll forgive you yours.

At the Feet of a Prophet

One June we were in Salt Lake City for a family wedding. Afterward my father wanted to go see one of his friends. This friend had been the Regional Rep where Dad lived, but also happened to be the personal secretary to the President of the Church. So we went to the old Church Office Building to visit D. Arthur Haycock.

Brother Haycock met us in the foyer to say hello, then disappeared, saying he'd be back in a few minutes. After a while he returned, and said to us, "The Prophet will see you now."

Gasp.

My very first thought--no kidding--was, Oh! What am I wearing?
Of course I was fine; I had just come from the temple.
But I laugh at myself, even now, that it was my first thought.

You'd think I would be more worried about what he might see inside me.
And in fact, the closer we got to the Prophet's door, I was.

We had the awesome opportunity of visiting with President Harold B. Lee that day.
He asked a little about us, and told us some stories, teaching us about the importance of serving in the Church. Maybe that's why I don't say no.


Throughout my life this experience has reminded me to always dress appropriately, but to pay even more attention to what the Lord sees.

"..Let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel;
But let it be the hidden (wo)man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit." 1 Peter 3:3-4

I would like to say (as Cyrano de Bergerac):
"I carry my adornments on my soul.
I go caparisoned in gems unseen."

President Lee taught me:
The gospel isn't about being; it's about becoming.

To Be a Princess

When I was in junior high, I read a book about the royal family in England.
If you were the child of a king or queen, you had a very strict upbringing.
You had to learn how to walk, how to sit, how to talk, how to be proper.
There were many things they could never do because it was beneath their station, and things they had to learn to do because they were royalty.

I’ve never forgotten that, because I’ve always felt that we too are of royal birth.
Even more than being the children of a King--the King of Kings!--we are the offspring of God. There are things that are beneath us, that we must never do, and things we need to learn to do because of who we are and whose we are.

“Once we know who we are,
the royal lineage of which we are a part,
our actions and directions in life
will be more appropriate to our inheritance.”
Russell M. Nelson, BYU Speeches 1989

When I was young I used to watch grown-up women. I watched how they walked, how they talked, even how they sat.
I got it into my young-girl head that when I grew up I wanted to be a woman of dignity, of grace, of refinement.

Obviously, I didn’t make it! Not even close.
But how much worse would I be if I hadn’t had that goal?
OK, I've given up on the grace part, but I still have it in my mind to try to be a person of dignity.
Given an eternity, I might come close.
If I act like a noble princess, someday I may even be a queen.
In the Kingdom of God, anything is possible.

A Trip to the Dentist

I went to the dentist today.
I'm one of those weird ones that almost likes going to the dentist.

Before they took my x-rays, they took my blood pressure.
It was very low.
They were very surprised.
Most people's blood pressure rises at the dentist's.
Not mine.
The dentist chair is my place to nap.

I didn't go to the dentist for many years because I couldn't get away from my children.
Then I figured out it was one of the few places I could go without them.
It is also one of the few places I could stop moving and just sit.
So I was glad to go to the dentist and get a nap.

One of my dentists was named Dr. Rough. OK, it was Ruff.
Sure, sometimes the dentist hurts, or it's really uncomfortable.
But while they're scraping, digging, pulling, cutting, poking, pushing, and spraying, I just think of all the good they're doing.
And if it hurts (which Dr. Ruff never did), I just push my thumbs together.

They gave me that funny gas once, but I told them never to do that again. I didn't need it to calm me--I was already falling asleep--and I can't stand not being in control.

I've had fillings, root canals, crowns, bridges and oral surgery--twice.
When I come out of the dentist, I may be puffy and swollen and sore.
But I know my teeth are clean, and fixed, and they won't hurt for awhile.
And I got my nap.
What's so bad about that?

It's a Beautiful Day

Do you ever think about what you want written on your tombstone--
what bumper-sticker slogan capsulates the essence of your life?

It may vary at different ages and stages of life,
but for now I choose Mr. Rogers' song,
"It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood."

I find myself singing that a lot
(though more often in sunny Texas than I did in dreary Washington).

Every day there is so much that is beautiful and good around us.
Each day, so much to be thankful for.
Sure life has its snags and drags, it's trials and it's tragedies.
But even when something terrible is happening to us,
or lots of little things go wrong,
there is so much that's going right.
Just look up and around, and you'll see
that "It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood."

When I die, and people read my tombstone, and wonder "Why?",
maybe they'll look around the cemetery and think of resurrection, and of eternal life.
Maybe they'll think of me, and how happy I am.
Maybe they'll hear me singing--louder than ever,
"It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood!!!" --
In yours and mine.

This is the day which the Lord hath made.
It's a beautiful day.

Won't you be my neighbor?

Reflections on a Plateau

I am always saying to myself,
"Look at you, and after a lifetime of trying,"
said Florida Scott-Maxwell at age 82

I’m not that old, but I’ve said this to myself many times.

All my life I’ve wanted to be good. I’ve tried to be good.
But over and over I seem to come up short.
There seems to be this other person lurking between my deep-down goodness and what enters my mind and comes out of my mouth.

Sometimes I feel like I'm the same girl I was when I was 8 years old.
Personality is a pretty persistent thing.
So are character flaws.
Have I made any progress at all?

I still battle my natural tendencies, but I’m not the child I use to be.
I have learned much, I understand more, I am better than I was.
And I realize that I have the faith to go on:
faith that God will forgive my frailties, fill in the gaps, and make me whole.

Overcoming the world, including my self, is an uphill battle.
What counts isn’t how near perfection we get,
but that we are willing to try in spite of minimal gains,
and that we never give up.

So, onward march! I have a mountain to climb.

Happy Trails to You

My sister called today. She's working on a presentation and wants to quote me.
“You want to what?” I asked.
“Quote you,” she said.
Such a thing has never been done before.
(Well, actually it has. Once when I was giving a Relief Society lesson I quoted something from a previous talk. It made me giggle to quote myself, --and everyone else too. But it was kind of cool.)

“You know,” she said, “about the mountain thing.”

So I emailed her a quote-—not mine but Henry B. Eyring’s. It is one of my all-time favorite quotes that I have used many times. It gives me a vision of what is really going on here, and how I need to respond to it.


"We are like mountaineers, bound to each other as children of God."
We are all trying to reach the summit of eternal life.
We cannot climb by stepping on one another, or by pushing each other down, for in doing that we all fall down.
We must work together, help each other, lift one another.


But no, that wasn’t it. She really did want to quote me. She likes my philosophy of life.
For what it’s worth, this is how I see it:

Life, it seems to me, is like climbing a mountain. The longer you live, the higher you climb. The higher you climb, the more you see. The more you see, the greater your vision. The greater your vision, the greater your understanding.

The ascent is hard work, it demands a lot of us, and it’s mostly uphill.
Often we are looking ahead, focusing on how hard the climb is and how far we have to go. Sometimes all we see is the daily laboring up the hill.
Sometimes we should stop and look back and see how far we’ve come. Pausing at plateaus helps us rest, enjoy the new view, and remember the journey and it's lessons. Journals are good for that.

People that are older than you, like parents or leaders, may not be smarter than you, but they are higher up the mountain. They have seen more. Their vision is greater. And they can help guide you safely up the trail.

Some people will stay in the valley, afraid or not willing to make the climb. Others will plod slowly, or take divergent paths; some will pause a long time on plateaus. But to those who are willing to take the high road, the vistas are out of this world.

And you can quote me on that.

Friends are the Bacon Bits in the Salad Bowl of Life

I wonder --
if friends aren't almost as important, in the eternal scheme of things, as family.

Christ describes himself as our Friend.
Christ called Abraham, his apostles and other faithful men his Friends. He wants us to be his follower, his servant, his child, and his Friend.
Sounds pretty important to me.

Where would we be in life without good friends?
Can we even begin to name the ways we have been blessed by friends?
Can we count the times we have been helped by them?
Can we measure the depth and breadth of their influence in our lives?

Friends are more than "the bacon bits in the salad bowl of life".
They are more than that which "makes of this earth a garden" (Goethe).
Friends may have as much to do with our eternal salvation as our family.

I've had some very special friends in my life.
Among my very best friends are my sisters and my daughters.
The love and learning I experience with them makes an eternal difference in my life.
I hope I can be that kind of friend.

I'm glad that
A friend is one who knows you and likes you anyway.

I feel safe knowing that
A friend loveth at all times.

I have faith that
Families can be together forever, and so can friends.

Ahh, then it will be Heaven.

See you there!

Unorthodoxy

My father ran his doctor’s office in a very unorthodox way:
One didn’t make an appointment to see him. You just came to the office and waited your turn.
This could be good or bad. If you came at the right time, you got right in to see him; but if you came at the wrong time, you could wait for hours.

The secret about my Dad is that he would wait at home until the office was full of patients, then he would come in and work really hard to see them all. Then when the office cleared out, he would go get lost for a couple of hours until it filled up again, and then come in and work really hard until he had seen everyone.

I figured out that my Dad liked to be busy. He didn’t like to wait around or waste his time. He liked this system because when he worked he worked hard, and when he didn’t have to work, he was free to be busy doing something he wanted to do.

No one really knows what he did in the in-between times. On his free afternoons he often hopped in his car or private plane and went to see something interesting or beautiful.

Mostly, I’m not like my Dad. But, along with oily skin, I seem to have inherited this trait from him:
I don’t like to go early and sit around waiting for something to start. I like it to be up and running and in full steam when I arrive.
It doesn’t work very well when I wander late into meetings, but it works great for ward dinners, baby showers, parties, and book club.

I even lived by this principle when I had my babies. I always went to the hospital at the last minute because I didn’t want to sit around and wait. I wanted things to be happenin’!
I had only one baby at home under this system, but I paid for it when, for the next baby, I was made to go too early to the hospital and sit around and wait and have a perfectly lousy delivery because of it. It was ever so much better to rush to the hospital and in a very short time deliver the baby.

I just thought you should know this about me, so if the party is getting started without me, you can give me a call. I wouldn't want to miss anything good.

On My Own

I am the only one who has been with me everywhere I've been.
All that I've done is knowledge that only I have.
What I do with that knowledge is entirely up to me,
But the result will be me--
Eternally.

I wrote this profound (?) thought when I was a teenager.

I thought of it today when someone quoted her grandmother as saying,
"Everyone at some point in the day must lie down, close their eyes, and be alone with themselves....

For years I have had in the back of my mind the words to a poem by Edgar A. Guest:

I have to live with myself, and so,
I want to be fit for myself to know;
I want to be able as days go by,
Always to look myself straight in the eye;
I don't want to stand with the setting sun
And hate myself for the things I've done.
Whatever happens, I want to be
Self-respecting and conscience free.

We are born into this world alone.
We will leave this world alone.
We will stand before the Judgement Bar alone.

Other people have a great deal to do with every step of our journey.
But ultimately, we are on our own.

Sleep well.

I'm late ...again

Ok, I admit it. I’m a late person. It’s not my fault.
I had a mother who always ran late. (Mothers with 8 kids oughta be excused.)
Growing up in my house, our clocks were always set 10-15 minutes fast, so we could try to be on time.
My Dad, a busy doctor always on call, regularly snuck into meetings that were half over.
Let’s not forget that I was in the middle of five sisters trying to get their hair done and be beautiful in not-enough bathrooms.

Now I’m all grown up, and I’m still late. (Mothers of 8 oughta be excused.)

I have learned that being late is rude, disruptive, and selfish, and you miss good stuff and get bad seats. So I have tried to change. I’m much better (kinda like I’m better at being organized), but it’s still a battle. I don’t have kids to blame any more, but I still have trouble getting out the door. There's just stuff to do. And I’m sure there is a gremlin that moves the clock ahead when I’m not looking -- whole chunks of time just disappear into a black hole.

My analysis: I think Time is my way of defying the world and defining myself. When I waltz in late, I’m saying, my time is more important than yours, I had more important things to do. It's my delusion that I have some control of my life--it's my time. The irony is, I am really out of control.

And to send the message that your time is as important as mine is infinitely kinder, more responsible and more mature than being late.

So it is my fault. It's my responsibility. I make the choice.

Oh, I gotta run, or I’ll be late for work……again.

Girl Scout Cookies

I got my Girl Scout cookies today from the neighbor girl. I didn't get too awfully many because there's no one at home to help me eat them. Samoas are my favorite, followed by thin mints. I like the plain shortbread cookies, but this year I got a box of the new cinnamon-flavored shortbreads. I also did my civic duty and put in for a box to be sent to the soldiers at Fort Hood.
We didn't have the usual rush of little girls knocking on our door this year. I wonder if, like many good things, Girl Scouts is a declining institution. Too bad.
I guess it's also time to start looking for the Girl Scout cookie-flavored ice creams, which I will seek with interest but not buy, because who here would eat them?
If I really had my druthers, I would prefer to have Campfire Girl mints. But the old ones, not the ones they have now, if indeed they still have them as I haven't seen any in several years. That institution may be extinct. Yum, they were good. Really creamy in the middle.
I don't think I ever joined Girl Scouts, but I was a Campfire girl. I think I was an entry-level Bluebird. We met in someone's house on the opposite corner of Kitsap Lake from where I lived. I was never much of a joiner, but it was something to do for a little while.
I'm going to have a GS cookie now. And if I eat too many and run out, I'll go find the little girls in green in front of the grocery store. I won't have money on the way in, but I'll get change for on the way out. Their mothers will be very happy to get rid of all those boxes of cookies.

Happy Un-Valentines Day

I had a very un-Valentines Day today. I didn’t give a single paper Valentine, I didn’t get a single Valentine, I didn’t eat anything related to Valentines, I didn’t put out my only Valentines decoration, and I didn’t even leave the house.
I did see that everyone in Martha Stewart’s audience was wearing pink, so when I finally got dressed I put on a pink t-shirt. And even though my fridge is full of left-overs, I did cook dinner for my honey, though nothing special. Other than that, I saw no one and had a very unproductive day.

Does that mean I don’t feel loved? No, not at all.
Does that mean I don’t love some special people? Surely not.
Valentines Day is, after all, a very contrived, commercial holiday.
We can say "I love you" any day in any way.

So for any of you who doubt it, or didn’t hear from me today,
I LOVE YOU!
And I know you love me.

But I did miss having a frosted sugar cookie.

There is no love sincerer than the love of food.

–George Bernard Shaw

"May I quote you on that?"

When I was a teenager going to Mutual, they wanted spiritual talks in opening exercises, so they would call on one of us to give one extemporaneously. Not wanting to look like an idiot, I started a small notebook of quotes to keep handy.

It wasn’t hard to do because I used to help my Dad gather material for the talks he gave as a high councilman from the many books we had in our house. My little notebook grew into a small index-card file.

When I went to BYU and they had a filing system available from the book store, I thought I had found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It was then that I became serious about collecting, keeping and organizing (yes, me) quotes and other stuff. It was then that many things started coming together for me intellectually about the gospel.

Some people collect coins, or stamps, or dolls, but I have collected quotes all my life.
To have fed on the thoughts and ideas of great men and women of all ages has been a great feast. It has allowed me to stand on the shoulders of giants to view the world.

If I had a memory for all I've read, I’d be dangerous.

The very first quote I saved has been a guide to me all my life:

What I am today is God’s gift to me;
But what I will be tomorrow is my gift
to God.

Today I Am Thankful

A friend of mine was telling me that when she lived in Alaska there was no milk available because it was too cold to keep cows. Can you imagine life without fresh milk? They didn't have it when she lived in the Phillippines either, but I'll bet there's other things they don't have there, and a lot of things a lot of people in a lot of places in the world don't have.

It was the same day I was reading that we should keep a journal every day because everyday we receive blessings from the Lord and every day we should be thankful.

So today I'm especially grateful for fresh, pasteurized milk. and raspberries and cream in winter. and a good supply of drinking water, sanitation systems, garbage pick-up, and aspirin.

Today I'm grateful to live in this country and to live in this time.

And having just come from the World Wide Training meeting and stake conference, I am, for the gazillionth time, grateful for the gospel and all that goes with it.

Hold fast to the blessings which God has provided for you. Yours is not the task to gain them, they are here; yours is the part of cherishing them."

--J. Reuben Clark

On Being Organized

I told my college roommates once that I was getting more organized. They laughed at me.
I don’t know what they could see in a college student that made them think I was SO unorganized, but I guess I had farther to go than I thought.

If I were to try that line on anyone who knows me now, they would laugh too.

Personally, I think being organized is overrated. I also think it's misunderstood.
I have a sister who everyone, including herself, thinks is very organized. But if you open her linen closet, watch out! Some people are organized at work but not at home; some organize their spices but not their bills. I think everyone is organized about the things that matter to them, which isn't every thing. Not everyone organizes their Hard Rock shirts alphabetically.

Besides, it really boils down to where you get your energy. People we call "organized" get their energy from organizing things, and their energy is drained when there is chaos. People who are "disorganized" can live with the mess, but are drained by organizing things. That's me.

So today, in light of my new year's resolution to clean my house up a bit, I worked on some piles. Now I'm exhausted and must rest.
If you saw how little I actually got done, that I never got to the bottom to clean underneath, and where I put the mess, you would really have yourself a good laugh.

So go ahead and laugh. I'm going to bed.

P.S. Have you looked in your junk drawer lately?

Food for Thought

"You have no idea
what a poor opinion
I have of myself--
And
how little I deserve it. "

--W. S. Gilbert

You Can Do It!

I have been asked, not once but twice in my life, to teach a class on how to dip chocolates.
I don’t dip chocolates. I don’t even eat chocolates! I’m one of those rare birds that don’t particularly like chocolate.

But I said yes.

That's because I had a Dad that said, "Can't means won't." If we say we can't, it's only because we aren't willing to make the effort to try.

There aren’t many things in life we really can’t do, but there are things we just haven’t learned how to do yet. So I've learned, especially in the Church, that unless there is a really good reason, don't say no to anything. The Church and life give you many opportunities to stretch and grow and make more of you than you would make of yourself.

I heard of an article once called "It's Okay to be Mediocre." We don't have to be the best at something; we don't even have to be really good at it. But if we want to do it, and enjoy doing it, then it's okay if we aren't The World's Best.

I'm glad about that because I like to play the piano. I'm not good at it, but I like it. And I can enjoy it without feeling guilty that I'm not better. I wish I was, but I'm not going to stop playing because I'm not a concert pianist.

And when they ask me to play in church, and I want to say "I'm not very good and I really can't," I think of my Dad and say, "I will try, and do my best." That I can do.

Truth

When I was about 10 years old, my Sunday School teacher told a story about someone who didn’t believe the church was true. I blurted out, “How can anyone not know the Church is true?”
In her wise voice she said something like, “You just wait. There will come a day when you start to question it too.”
“Not me,” I said. “I’ll never question it.”

Well, she was right. When I was about 13 I started wondering about some things and having some questions. I was surprised at first—surprised at myself. But I remembered that she had said that, so I took it that it must be a normal thing.
Somehow I also knew I had options. I could ignore my questions, or be ornery about the Church, or look elsewhere, or I could honestly seek for the answers to my questions. I chose the latter and I have followed that path ever since.

I have learned in teaching and in life that the best learning occurs when there is enough thought and interest to have a question.

I have also learned that truth can take whatever scrutiny you give it. You can look at it from all sides and test it all you want. Sometimes you have to look at it’s opposite to see it and to appreciate what it is. He who is afraid of truth will never find it.

God said, “Prove me herewith….”
In asking and seeking and testing, we prove God, and we prove truth, and we prove ourselves.

Those who know the truth are not equal to those who love the truth,

and those who love the truth are not equal to those who live it.

Sure Knowledge

While sitting in a recent Fast and Testimony meeting, listening and thinking about beliefs, I thought, "There are many things I believe, but what do I really know--absolutely, without any doubt--know to be true?

It boiled down to a short list, but at the top of that list is my absolutely, no-doubt-about-it knowledge that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the Lord's true church. I have not one iota of doubt about that in my whole soul.

I have been in the Church all my life. I have almost always believed it to be true. Yet after more than five decades of activity in the Church, I still have moments driving down the road when I shake my hands and say, "Is it all really true?"

I do this for three reasons.
One, it isn't the Church I doubt, but the accuracy of our perception of God and of eternity.
Two, because I'm still basically a two-year-old and I think we should question and test everything, especially when we stake our whole life on it.
Third, because our human mind alone cannot know these things; they are known only by the Spirit of God.

So in my questioning and searching, in my testing and proving, and most of all in my serving, I have seen the Spirit of God divers times in every corner of His Church.

I saw it this past week in the miracle of dividing and organizing new wards, and all the incredible things that happen so quickly and so well because of the Spirit and the listening hearts and willing hands of the members.
I feel it when I listen to prophets, seers and revelators in General Conference, in our stake, and even in Sacrament meeting.
I've experienced it consistently in the sometimes inconvenient, soul-stretching opportunities to serve in the Church.

God is in the details. It is His work. Of that I am sure.


Howard W. Hunter queried,

"The Church of Jesus Christ is the true and living Church. Are you a true and living member?"

Ah. That is the question.

Self-consciousness

"What if you could wake up one morning and take a pill that would
completely remove your self-consciousness? One little gulp, and your fear
of being judged, embarrassed, or looking foolish would complete
disappear."

One of the most pivotal changes we make in our life is when we go from child-like unawareness into a consciousness of self that forever tortures us and externally guides what we do in life. It robs us of our innocence, our spontaneity, and our real selves. Some of that is good, as our fear of others and a desire to "fit in" civilizes us to some degree. But we are never again able to let go of the grab that the opinions of others has on us.

Someone once said that we give up 80% of our real selves to be like others.

If there were such a pill to rid you of your self-consciousness,

"What chances would you take?

What new things would you try?

What fun would you allow yourself?"

Our only chance to tame the dragon may be to confront it, face it straight on, look it in the eye, and conquer it! Sometimes, don't Give a Hoot.

God has put a high premium on being child-like, on being real, on being true to your self, and in finding joy in life.

The only opinion that really matters is His.

So, go be you, and have some fun.

(Quotes from Cheryl Richardson in Life Makeovers)

Imperturbability

Some days seem to have themes. Some days the random things you pick up to read, the tidbits you hear on the radio, the conversations you have, all start to have something in common. I recently had one of these days.

These are the thoughts I happened upon:

• Sheri Dew is often asked how she, a single woman, can be happy in a family-oriented church. "Frankly," she says, "I don't understand the question." She wonders if they think she would be happier without the church (of course not), and, it "implies that happiness comes only to those whose lives are ideal, which would make, incidentally, a very small group."

• "Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he's been robbed. The fact is that most putts don't drop. Most beef is tough. Most children grow up to be just ordinary people. Most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration. Most jobs are more often dull than otherwise.... "'Life is like an old-time rail journey -- delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.' " (quoted from Jenkin Lloyd Jones by Gordon B. Hinckley, BYU devotional, Sept. 25, 1973)

• "The way to exaltation is not a freeway featuring unlimited vision, unrestricted speeds, and untested skills. Rather, it is known by many forks and turnings, sharp curves, and controlled speeds. Our driving ability is being put to the test." (Thomas S. Monson)

• "The great test in life is to see whether we will hearken to and obey God's commands in the midst of the storms of life. It is not to endure storms, but to choose the right while they rage." (Henry B. Eyring, Oct 2005 General Conference)

I think almost everyone thinks that "the good life" is a problem-free life of ease and comfort. We have trouble believing otherwise. It is not in our nature to rejoice in adversity or to be grateful for our trials. In this we err.

It seems to me we would be a lot happier as we trek through this vail of tears if we could set our minds straight about this, --if we remembered the big picture of why we're here, and what God is trying to make of us (see C. S. Lewis).

Only then can we find courage and peace for the journey.

"To be untested and unproven is also to be unaware of all that we are." (Neal A. Maxwell)