Passport to Paradise

My passport came in the mail today!

It’s for our family cruise in November, of course.

But it has, in my mind, opened up a whole new world of possibilities.
Where is it a passport to?
Where could it take me that I’ve never been before?
What new sights and tastes and experiences could be waiting for me?

Someone once said, “Our life is a book, and he who stays home writes only one page.”

So, when are we going?
And where?

Are we there yet?

To Have or Have Not: Children

Ashley’s mom once said an interesting thing.
They were trying to make arrangements for their children if something should happen to them. They went through everyone they knew --grandparents, siblings, aunts and uncles on both sides of the family, and there was no one they trusted to rear their children.
Then this thought occurred to her: This must be how Heavenly Father feels. He wants to send his children to the very best homes, where they will have the gospel and be reared in love and righteousness, but they are so few and hard to find.

Brigham Young said,
“I have told you many times that there are multitudes of pure and holy spirits waiting to take tabernacles. Now what is our duty? –to prepare tabernacles for them. To take a course that will not tend to drive these spirits into the families of the wicked, where they will be trained in wickedness.”

I didn’t know all this when I decided to have eight children.
But I did grow up when President David O. McKay was Prophet.
He had a no-excuses attitude about having children.

During some really hard times, I was praying for some blessings. What I got was pregnant again. At first I was upset; the last thing I needed at that time was another baby.
But as I thought about it, I realized that the greatest blessing, the most precious gift Heavenly Father could give me was one of his children. To me it was a sign of His love and trust.

When I realized I was pregnant with my eighth child in ten years,
I threw myself on my bed and sobbed. This lasted only a few minutes when a peace washed over me, and the thought that came into my mind was, “It will be okay.” And it was.
That baby was Angela. Anyone who knows how I feel about Angela, and about Jennifer and Benjamin and Elizabeth and David and Jonathan and Kathryn and Nathan, will know that it was worth it to have eight children.

I never had any idea or feeling or dream of how many children I would have. I always said, Just one at a time.
It added up quickly.

When I think how blessed I have been in my life, and I wonder how I can ever pay Heavenly Father back for all He’s done, I feel that I have paid part of that debt by being willing to provide tabernacles for His children, and by trying to raise them in righteousness.

But then He helped me along the way, and gave me really good kids, making me even more indebted to Him. I hope my children will continue to pay on that debt.

Within the sacred walls of the Temple, where our eternal family began, I’ve come to understand that “Man is, that he might have joy,” and that Joy is found in posterity.

Remnants of Faith

Late in December of 1990, in the midst of an Arctic storm, a large tree came through our house. Actually it was two trees. We saw them fall as we stood by the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony. But it was too late to move. The header over the glass doors probably saved our lives, and our house.

Our goodly neighbor came over, against his wife's wishes, and precipitously climbed our icy roof with his chain saw to cut the trees down off our roof.
Soon after other saintly friends showed up with their construction truck and secured a tarp over the large and gaping hole to prevent further damage to our house.

We farmed the kids out to friends and family, until school started back up and then we moved into three rooms of the Smiley Motel. Several weeks later we moved back in to our mended home.

This is what I wrote in my journal at that time:

Date: 18 January 1991
Three weeks after a tree fell through the roof.

I see them everywhere I go, remnants of the Arctic storms: trees down, or half-down, or cut off at the edge of the road. There are many scenes that will never be the same.

Now I am back home, its repairs nearly complete from its tree-visitor. And I see them everywhere, remnants of the storm: limbs scattered, paint spattered, chunks of drywall, bits of insulation, puzzle pieces of my house that look different or don't fit anymore. And I wonder if life will be the same.

I thought it could all be fixed just as it was. I thought it would all be the same and we would go on just as before. But there's all the remnants, all the reminders of the passing storm, and I realize that neither the house, nor us, will be the same again.

Painful as that may be, I guess it's good. We really didn't have to endure much--a moment of terror and a month of inconvenience, but no real suffering.

And we saw in this experience (and the other accidents of the past month), the Hand of God, and that is a great thing. We don't ever want to forget that.

No, we will never be the same again. Our souls will carry with us the remnants, pieces of faith and of peace and of love.

We were luckier than most folks in similar circumstances, who months later still had no relief. Our insurance agent was there the next day with a big, fat check. Repairs began the first day weather permitted. Our friends took us in and salved our wounds. The damage would have been much worse without their timely help.

It was inconvenient, yes, but we were so very blessed.

You're Not Alone

My Patriarchal Blessing says that I will never be closer to God then in the rearing of my children. I did not feel that it was so. I was so tired, so busy, so overwhelmed with earthly concerns to feel close to the Lord.

Then one day I had an experience.
It was late afternoon-- the absolute worst time of the day.
I was exhausted, trying to get dinner, the TV blaring, telephone ringing, eight kids yelling, making messes, hanging on me, demanding things. I was at my wit's end. I thought to myself, "I can't do this any more. I just cannot do this by myself."

I can't explain it, but in that moment I was given to know that I was not alone, that I had never been alone, that help was near all the days and years I was raising my children.
I may not have felt close to the Lord, but He was close to me.

I've wondered many times how often our lives are watched over, guided, and protected when we're not aware of it.
Have you ever felt like you shouldn't go through an intersection even though the light was green, and then an unseen car comes whizzing in front of you?
So many times I've thought it propitious that I was at a certain place, or ran into a certain person, or heard a particular idea.
How often is the Lord or one of his angels nearby?

People have different ideas about this.
Some think God threw us into the pool and left us to learn to swim on our own.
Others think we have a guardian angel by our side at all times.

I don't know which it is; I guess I think it's somewhere in between.
But when He has helped me in something as mundane as knowing in my poverty whether I needed one can of tuna or two, I lean towards believing He's nearer than we know.

The Lord has promised:
I am with you always.
I will never leave you alone.

I believe He meant it.

Growing Up

I'm all grow'd up but I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up.

I knew at an early age that I wanted to major in Psychology.
The first book I bought myself was Games People Play by Eric Berne.

So I went to college and studied Psychology. But I never planned to work in it. It seems to me that those who really want help are able to help themselves. Psychologists are stuck with the rest.

So I grew up to be a Mother.
Every job has it's good and bad, but for the most part I really liked that job. I feel that it was what I was supposed to do in life.

But now I am Mother Emeritus.
And I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up.

Maybe I just won't grow up.


I don't know what to do, but I know what I want to be.
I want to be like Jesus.
I'm not doing a very good job.
I have a long way to go.
It takes a lot of work and time.
Will I ever grow up to be like my Heavenly Parents?
Will I ever really grow up?

Today's Climate

"You're not smiling," Dianna said to me at work today.
I wasn't. For some reason I just woke up tired.

I didn't do my morning pep-up.
I've decided it's the antidote to all the world's problems.
It's Michael Buble's "Feelin' Good."
If everyone listened to that every morning, the world would be a better place!

My daughter telephoned as I was leaving work. We talked about how uninteresting our daily lives are.
But our conversation wasn't boring. We talked about her day at the park, my X-Box and DDR, Scott's birthday, shoes and jewelry, her garden, the newest Patricia Cornwell book (ok, I wish we had),...just stuff that was on our minds.

We may not do interesting things every day.
But every day has an emotional or mental climate, just like the weather outside.

This describes my mental climate today:
I'm tired, ergo sluggish and slow. Yet I worked and even made banana bread.
I feel free from some loose-ends that I finally got tied up yesterday.
I feel determined to get things crossed off my long and stagnant to-do list.
I feel torn about how to use my time. Do I exercise or do DDR, read for book club or study group, blog or call a friend, clean house or do my church work? etc. etc. etc.
I feel blessed to have such choices, to be healthy and comfortable, free and at peace, and able to choose what to do.

I don't know tomorrow's forecast, but I'm making my list of things to do.
And if I remember to play "Feelin' Good", then I know it will be a sunny day.


"Teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom." Psalms 90:12

X-Box

I can hardly say this with a straight face, but today I got an X-Box.

I am on the far side of middle-age, my kids are grown and gone, I HATE computer games, but today I got an X-Box.

The reason why I got an X-Box is because I got DDR! Most of you know by now that it stands for Dance Dance Revolution. It's a "game" where arrows on the screen tell you the steps and you dance them on a pad. It's a ton of fun.

I tried it at my daughter's where she had bought it for her daughter. Hard to tell whose it is.
Then my daughter-in-law got one.
Now I have one. Yay!!! I'm so excited!

It's not my birthday for a couple more weeks, but we celebrated early so we could share several family birthdays while we were all in town.

I used to be a dancer.
I took dancing lessons growing up: tap, ballet, tumbling and folk.
I was in a folk dance group and on the BYU Ballroom Dance Team.
I taught ballroom and folk dancing to family and friends.
Then I married a non-dancer.
I couldn't believe that a year after we were married we had a chance to dance, and I realized I married the man without knowing if he danced! Well, he dances well enough, but let's just say I packed my dancing shoes away and haven't needed them since.

It is true that if you don't use it, you lose it, and I've lost it.
But DDR has a beginner level, so I can start over again.

Not to be rude, but I gotta go dance.
It's a ton o' fun.

The Age of Innocence

I’m not older than dirt yet. I may not even be over the hill, but I have a good view of the downside of it.
I remember when candy bars were a nickel, comic books were a dime, and houses were $12,000. I remember black and white television, computers that took up a whole room and required punch cards, and dial telephones with letters in their prefixes.
Things have changed since then.

The thing I miss most about the past is the loss of innocence.
I was a child before the 60’s when most conversations, books, TV and movies were innocent.
I grew up with Leave It To Beaver and Father Knows Best, family shows with no references to private matters. I don't believe I heard the word "sex" out loud before college, and even then it referred to someone's gender.
A five-year old today knows more about private things than I did at 18. Our sex-saturated society has lost its innocence in every corner.

John Bytheway likes to boast about owning every episode of The Andy Griffith Show. I never watched that show much, but he likes it because in the whole, very-long series there is not one instance of language, nudity, sex, or even innuendo.
Can we say that about one episode of Friends, or any TV show we watch? Or 5 minutes of any television? Not to mention books, movies, ads and casual conversations.

Like everyone else, my tolerance for it has increased, but I still don’t like it. I really don't.
In this one thing, I would prefer “the good old days”.
But, alas, there is no going back.

At least, not as a society.
But we can choose purity and innocence in our own lives.
We can safeguard it in the lives of our children.

"The whole probation that we are undergoing in mortality is to permit us to cleanse and perfect and purify our souls. It is to permit us to take evil and iniquity and carnality out of our souls." --Bruce R. McConkie

"Let us have an awesome reverence for purity, virtue, chastity,
that we may be pure as He is pure."

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.