Today is Jennifer's birthday.
Jennifer is my firstborn child.
There is nothing in the world like the first; nothing can ever take its place. For holding that special place in my heart, for enduring that position, thanks, Jennifer.
Jennifer was due the week after Christmas, so we couldn't travel to Washington. That was my first Christmas away from home. Thanks, Jennifer.
I woke up on New Year's Eve and felt funny. I had to call my mother to ask what labor felt like. Little did I know what I was in for. Thanks, Jennifer.
I had never seen anything born before, so after her birth I kept saying, There really was a baby in there! And there was. A baby that made me a mother. Thanks, Jennifer.
The doctor who delivered her didn't miss too much of his football game, but he did miss a New Year's Eve party he didn't want to go to. For that, he thanks you, Jennifer.
She came too early to be the first baby born in the new year so we didn't get all the press and goodies, but we did get the tax deduction, and I didn't get my hospital picture in the news. Thanks, Jennifer.
I don't know which is most painful: labor, afterbirth, nursing, or breast infections. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. For making me stronger, thanks, Jennifer.
I don't know if we choose our parents in the pre-existence, but if you did, thanks, Jennifer.
I cannot begin to count the ways Jennifer has blessed my life. For the pure delight at every age, for the deep and abiding friendship, for the connection we have on all levels, I thank you.
On this, the anniversary of her birth, I have umpteen reasons to celebrate and be glad.
For all you are and do, I thank you, Jennifer.
I love you!
Happy Birthday!
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Friday, December 29, 2006
The Party's Over
"Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree,
Putting decorations back into their cardboard boxes--
Some have got broken--and carrying them up to the attic.
The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school. There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed up, for the rest of the week--
Not that we have much appetite, having eaten such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted--quite unsuccessfully--
To love all our relatives, and in general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long."
-- W. H. Auden
The week after Christmas is always in interesting mix of emotions.
We want to somehow hang on to the feelings of the season, but clean out the mess.
What things need be stowed away, and what should be left out?
I guess the tree and lights must go, but other things should stay,
like the peace and the joy,
love and service,
being wise and giving gifts,
humble kneeling and songs of praise,
following His light and coming to Him.
I always wonder if all the fuss and bother of Christmas was worth it. Did it make a difference in my life? Am I better for the experience?
Will I be any better at making room for him in my life this year?
Will I follow his light more than the darkness of the world?
Will I continue to offer gifts to Him?
Will I love better because Love was born?
Sometimes I feel like the promising child who can't keep his word for long.
But I still want to try.
For all He's given me, I really want to try.
Putting decorations back into their cardboard boxes--
Some have got broken--and carrying them up to the attic.
The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school. There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed up, for the rest of the week--
Not that we have much appetite, having eaten such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted--quite unsuccessfully--
To love all our relatives, and in general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long."
-- W. H. Auden
The week after Christmas is always in interesting mix of emotions.
We want to somehow hang on to the feelings of the season, but clean out the mess.
What things need be stowed away, and what should be left out?
I guess the tree and lights must go, but other things should stay,
like the peace and the joy,
love and service,
being wise and giving gifts,
humble kneeling and songs of praise,
following His light and coming to Him.
I always wonder if all the fuss and bother of Christmas was worth it. Did it make a difference in my life? Am I better for the experience?
Will I be any better at making room for him in my life this year?
Will I follow his light more than the darkness of the world?
Will I continue to offer gifts to Him?
Will I love better because Love was born?
Sometimes I feel like the promising child who can't keep his word for long.
But I still want to try.
For all He's given me, I really want to try.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
I'm a Fake!
While folding laundry one day I caught a few minutes of a Rock Hudson movie. He played a man who sold fishing equipment in a sporting goods store. He told people the best gear to buy, the best place to fish, the best bait to use, even the best time of day to fish. Then it was discovered that he didn’t personally fish, or even know how! He just passed on information that others had given him.
I thought, that is so my life! I work in a longarm quilting business selling quilting supplies. I spend my days advising people on the best products to buy, telling them how to use it, and am even considered "the expert" by some. But I don’t quilt!! I don’t personally use these products or have any real experience with them. I just pass on information that people tell me.
Something about this isn’t right.
We can know a lot about a lot of things. But there is no substitute for real experience. Only then can you really know a thing. (And even then, only your limited experience of it.)
I worry that the gospel can be like that. We can know all about it, how to live it, where to practice it, but not have any real experience with it. We can talk about faith, charity, service, sacrifice, Spirit, saving the world, but how much personal experience do we have with those things?
"It is a contradiction in terms and ideas to call anything a revelation that comes to us at secondhand, either verbally or in writing. It is revelation to the first person only and hearsay to every other."
--Thomas Paine
Especially in the gospel were we meant to have first-hand experiences!
I do believe the Church encourages us to act "as if" we have a virtue before we actually possess it, such as to act with charity before we may actually feel it. It may be viewed as hypocrisy, but I see it as a learning step, a practice phase. It's meant to be temporary until we gain the virtue. All of us at divers times and places are "practicing" Christians. Permanence of the discrepancy qualifies for being a fake.
It makes me all the more grateful for the Savior, who left His heavenly home and came to earth to experience mortality first-hand. He knows what it is to be hungry, tired, rejected, and unappreciated. What He knows of our struggles and sufferings is not from hearsay.
Dennis Rasmussun wrote:
“Christ came among men to share what he had brought with him from heaven, but also to share what he would find on earth.
The gift he brought was eternal life with all its glory; the gift he received was human life with all its struggles.
Because He lived and suffered and died, life and suffering and death were changed. By sharing them he transfigured them, and made them ministers of perfection.”
We have faith in Christ because we know He has walked the walk, that He knows from personal experience about the things He teaches us. We know we can follow in His footsteps.
The lesson for me is, whether in fishing, quilting or living the gospel, it is infinitely better to do it, to walk the walk, and not just talk the talk.
The Lord has said, Do not be a hypocrite.
In other words, Don't be a fake.
I thought, that is so my life! I work in a longarm quilting business selling quilting supplies. I spend my days advising people on the best products to buy, telling them how to use it, and am even considered "the expert" by some. But I don’t quilt!! I don’t personally use these products or have any real experience with them. I just pass on information that people tell me.
Something about this isn’t right.
We can know a lot about a lot of things. But there is no substitute for real experience. Only then can you really know a thing. (And even then, only your limited experience of it.)
I worry that the gospel can be like that. We can know all about it, how to live it, where to practice it, but not have any real experience with it. We can talk about faith, charity, service, sacrifice, Spirit, saving the world, but how much personal experience do we have with those things?
"It is a contradiction in terms and ideas to call anything a revelation that comes to us at secondhand, either verbally or in writing. It is revelation to the first person only and hearsay to every other."
--Thomas Paine
Especially in the gospel were we meant to have first-hand experiences!
I do believe the Church encourages us to act "as if" we have a virtue before we actually possess it, such as to act with charity before we may actually feel it. It may be viewed as hypocrisy, but I see it as a learning step, a practice phase. It's meant to be temporary until we gain the virtue. All of us at divers times and places are "practicing" Christians. Permanence of the discrepancy qualifies for being a fake.
It makes me all the more grateful for the Savior, who left His heavenly home and came to earth to experience mortality first-hand. He knows what it is to be hungry, tired, rejected, and unappreciated. What He knows of our struggles and sufferings is not from hearsay.
Dennis Rasmussun wrote:
“Christ came among men to share what he had brought with him from heaven, but also to share what he would find on earth.
The gift he brought was eternal life with all its glory; the gift he received was human life with all its struggles.
Because He lived and suffered and died, life and suffering and death were changed. By sharing them he transfigured them, and made them ministers of perfection.”
We have faith in Christ because we know He has walked the walk, that He knows from personal experience about the things He teaches us. We know we can follow in His footsteps.
The lesson for me is, whether in fishing, quilting or living the gospel, it is infinitely better to do it, to walk the walk, and not just talk the talk.
The Lord has said, Do not be a hypocrite.
In other words, Don't be a fake.
What things do you know from experience, and what things do you know just from hearsay?
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Thoughts on a Christmas Eve
Because the spritz and the gumdrops are made,
because I don't have to stay up all night wrapping presents, filling stockings, or making cinnamon rolls this year,
because I have time for once to be quiet,
I appreciate even more this favorite poem of mine:
Let us be silent for a little while
This holy night.
Let us go out where the silver winter stars
Hang still and white,
And let us find His star, and stand beneath
Its drenching light.
We will be calm, for the while alone
Where still things are;
We will be stronger than we were before,
And cleaner, far,
For the brief time beneath the showering light
Of one white star,
And oh, I think if we wait, and if we watch,
That star will pour
A radiant silver light along the hills;
Will go before
And lead all earnest seekers for the Christ
To His very door.
--Grace Noll Crowell
May all things in our lives lead us to Him.
because I don't have to stay up all night wrapping presents, filling stockings, or making cinnamon rolls this year,
because I have time for once to be quiet,
I appreciate even more this favorite poem of mine:
Let us be silent for a little while
This holy night.
Let us go out where the silver winter stars
Hang still and white,
And let us find His star, and stand beneath
Its drenching light.
We will be calm, for the while alone
Where still things are;
We will be stronger than we were before,
And cleaner, far,
For the brief time beneath the showering light
Of one white star,
And oh, I think if we wait, and if we watch,
That star will pour
A radiant silver light along the hills;
Will go before
And lead all earnest seekers for the Christ
To His very door.
--Grace Noll Crowell
May all things in our lives lead us to Him.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
"C" is for Christmas
Inspired by a poem I read in an old Improvement Era, I once wrote this corny play on words:
It's Christmas! How do you "C" Christmas?
Do you "C" santa Claus, Chimneys, Colored lights,
Chocolates, Cranberries and Crisp winter nights?
Children, Candles, Candy Canes,
Cheery Cards, Carolers and Country lanes?
And in your Christmas do you "C" Christ?
Do you see the Child in the Creche?
Do you see the Creator of worlds,
and his Commanding Countenance?
Do you see his Capacity for Caring?
His Caress for a Child, his Cry for our pain?
His Charity in his Compassion and Comfort?
He is the Calm in a storm.
He is the Champion for God's Cause,
with Consummate Commitment and Courage.
Cheerful, Congenial, Considerate.
Composed, Certain, Candid.
He is unCommon, inComparable, unChangeable.
Do you see his Conduct as he's Cruelly Condemned?
Do you see him Climb with the Cross to Calvary,
to Carry our sins and Compensate for our weaknesses?
He is Chief among us, the Center of our universe,
our hope for all things Celestial.
It is Christ we Celebrate.
For unto us is born this day a savior, who is Christ the Lord.
I still like to read it because it reminds me to open my eyes to all that Christmas means.
Every year our stake does a Creche Exhibit. As I took my time quietly looking at each Nativity, and I felt like I was personally witnessing that holiest of nights. I felt I had looked into the faces of Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus, of good shepherds and of wise men, angels and other witnesses. I knew, as they did, that this was indeed the promised Messiah, and that He was true to His promises. Christmas is a miraculous experience when we have eyes to see.
As Children of God, are there things to "C" in us?
Compassion
Conviction
Courage
Commitment
Charity
Contentment
Compliance
Child-like
Constant
Caring
Clean
Contrite
Covenant
We think A-list is best, but I'm thinking C-list is better.
That's how I "C" it.
It's Christmas! How do you "C" Christmas?
Do you "C" santa Claus, Chimneys, Colored lights,
Chocolates, Cranberries and Crisp winter nights?
Children, Candles, Candy Canes,
Cheery Cards, Carolers and Country lanes?
And in your Christmas do you "C" Christ?
Do you see the Child in the Creche?
Do you see the Creator of worlds,
and his Commanding Countenance?
Do you see his Capacity for Caring?
His Caress for a Child, his Cry for our pain?
His Charity in his Compassion and Comfort?
He is the Calm in a storm.
He is the Champion for God's Cause,
with Consummate Commitment and Courage.
Cheerful, Congenial, Considerate.
Composed, Certain, Candid.
He is unCommon, inComparable, unChangeable.
Do you see his Conduct as he's Cruelly Condemned?
Do you see him Climb with the Cross to Calvary,
to Carry our sins and Compensate for our weaknesses?
He is Chief among us, the Center of our universe,
our hope for all things Celestial.
It is Christ we Celebrate.
For unto us is born this day a savior, who is Christ the Lord.
I still like to read it because it reminds me to open my eyes to all that Christmas means.
Every year our stake does a Creche Exhibit. As I took my time quietly looking at each Nativity, and I felt like I was personally witnessing that holiest of nights. I felt I had looked into the faces of Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus, of good shepherds and of wise men, angels and other witnesses. I knew, as they did, that this was indeed the promised Messiah, and that He was true to His promises. Christmas is a miraculous experience when we have eyes to see.
As Children of God, are there things to "C" in us?
Compassion
Conviction
Courage
Commitment
Charity
Contentment
Compliance
Child-like
Constant
Caring
Clean
Contrite
Covenant
We think A-list is best, but I'm thinking C-list is better.
That's how I "C" it.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
A Blogging Milestone
If I count right, this will be my 100th blog. Not bad for someone who dragged their feet to start one, and even then needed a jump start.
This week I printed them all out, just to see what that would look like. It was bigger than I thought. I have to say it's not a book everyone would want to read, but I like it.
The word "ripple" comes to mind. I don't know how Jill got started, but she got Jenn started who got me started and her sisters and Jill's keep getting bigger as her circle of wonderful friends grows. The Ripple Effect isn't just about blogs being written; it's about ideas and feelings and insights and friendships. It's all the things that happen in our lives and in the lives of those we touch because of blogspot.com.
Our personal stories are the literature of our lives. What can be more touching or interesting to read than real thoughts and stories of real people? Thanks to anyone who reads this for your contribution to my life.
Blogging has not been a daily journal for me; I do that in another place. It has been a reflection on my life and experiences. It has allowed me expression through the art of writing. It has put me in touch with my children, and some great friends.
Some days I think I have said all I have to say. Other days I think not.
So I'll keep on blogging when something inside me wants to get out.
What I feared most came true: I haven't cleaned a single closet since I started.
And I haven't found the real me. But I have come closer.
And I have loved the journey.
Thanks, Jill and Jenn!
Happy 100th Blog to me!
This week I printed them all out, just to see what that would look like. It was bigger than I thought. I have to say it's not a book everyone would want to read, but I like it.
The word "ripple" comes to mind. I don't know how Jill got started, but she got Jenn started who got me started and her sisters and Jill's keep getting bigger as her circle of wonderful friends grows. The Ripple Effect isn't just about blogs being written; it's about ideas and feelings and insights and friendships. It's all the things that happen in our lives and in the lives of those we touch because of blogspot.com.
Our personal stories are the literature of our lives. What can be more touching or interesting to read than real thoughts and stories of real people? Thanks to anyone who reads this for your contribution to my life.
Blogging has not been a daily journal for me; I do that in another place. It has been a reflection on my life and experiences. It has allowed me expression through the art of writing. It has put me in touch with my children, and some great friends.
Some days I think I have said all I have to say. Other days I think not.
So I'll keep on blogging when something inside me wants to get out.
What I feared most came true: I haven't cleaned a single closet since I started.
And I haven't found the real me. But I have come closer.
And I have loved the journey.
Thanks, Jill and Jenn!
Happy 100th Blog to me!
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Thoughts on a Healthy Family
When I went to college, I majored in Psychology, but I minored in Child Development and Family Relations. I thought everyone should at least minor in CDFR. What more important thing do we all need to know in life than how to be a good parent and have a happy and productive family? What better topic should we study all the days of our lives?
"The family is still the most efficient means for producing human happiness and human goodness, as well as for preparing us for the world of immortality that is to follow." Neal A. Maxwell
Neal A. Maxwell taught some very profound things about healthy families:
"Of all the work of 'perfecting the saints,' none compares to that done in healthy families."
"Sickness of spirit in a family is carried just as surely as the flu."
"The next generation always lives downwind of the toxic trends of the previous generation."
“When some choose slackness, they are choosing not only for themselves, but for the next generation and the next. Small equivocations in parents can produce large deviations in their children! Earlier generations in a family may have reflected dedication, while some in the current generation evidence equivocation. Sadly, in the next, some may choose dissension, as erosion takes it toll. "
"The whole process of raising a family is one of perfecting our own lives. That which we transmit consciously and unconsciously to our children in their rearing in the home must be the best within us." Henry D. Moyle
"I have learned in my home what I know about godliness.
And the theory I learn other places, if not applied at home, is useless." -Ann Madsen
"The family is still the most efficient means for producing human happiness and human goodness, as well as for preparing us for the world of immortality that is to follow." Neal A. Maxwell
Neal A. Maxwell taught some very profound things about healthy families:
"Of all the work of 'perfecting the saints,' none compares to that done in healthy families."
"Sickness of spirit in a family is carried just as surely as the flu."
"The next generation always lives downwind of the toxic trends of the previous generation."
“When some choose slackness, they are choosing not only for themselves, but for the next generation and the next. Small equivocations in parents can produce large deviations in their children! Earlier generations in a family may have reflected dedication, while some in the current generation evidence equivocation. Sadly, in the next, some may choose dissension, as erosion takes it toll. "
"The whole process of raising a family is one of perfecting our own lives. That which we transmit consciously and unconsciously to our children in their rearing in the home must be the best within us." Henry D. Moyle
I've always felt we owe it to our children to be the best person we can be. We don't begin to know how much influence we have on the earthly and eternal lives of our posterity. It takes a great deal of honest observation and introspection, a long view of things, and a great deal of discipline to do right by our families.
It is my hope that when we sit down in our heavenly home, that I will have done my part, that my family will be saved, that there will be no empty chairs at our table.
"I have learned in my home what I know about godliness.
And the theory I learn other places, if not applied at home, is useless." -Ann Madsen
Christmas Is Come
Well, the weather has turned chilly, I got my broken Christmas music to play, and I've bought and wrapped a few presents, so Christmas has come to my house--just in the nick of time.
So, what part of that is Christmas?
The shopping and buying?
The Christmas music?
The cold weather?
Doing things for others?
The busy-ness?
Or is it the lights and decorations? The smells and the tastes?
Certainly all of it. But what parts could we do without and still have it feel like Christmas?
Since Christmas really is about the birth of the Savior, I guess we could do away with almost all of it, except maybe the doing things for others, since that is the crux of the meaning of Christmas.
I got to wondering today how many Christmas presents I have wrapped in my lifetime. I came from a large family who had huge Christmases, and when I lived at home I did a lot of the wrapping for my mother and siblings. Then I had a large family of my own and there are always lots of presents to wrap.
And how many Christmas cards have I written? How many cookies have I baked to give away?
It almost makes me feel like I have done some good in the world.
But what if we don't count Christmas, if we take the Decembers of my life out of the equation, then what do I have to show for myself? Not much, I'm afraid.
It makes me all the more grateful for this season. Even if what we do smacks of obligation, it is a wonderful opportunity to think of others, to do for others, to share our love through cards and cookies and gifts.
And the world, and we, are better for it.
So, what part of that is Christmas?
The shopping and buying?
The Christmas music?
The cold weather?
Doing things for others?
The busy-ness?
Or is it the lights and decorations? The smells and the tastes?
Certainly all of it. But what parts could we do without and still have it feel like Christmas?
Since Christmas really is about the birth of the Savior, I guess we could do away with almost all of it, except maybe the doing things for others, since that is the crux of the meaning of Christmas.
I got to wondering today how many Christmas presents I have wrapped in my lifetime. I came from a large family who had huge Christmases, and when I lived at home I did a lot of the wrapping for my mother and siblings. Then I had a large family of my own and there are always lots of presents to wrap.
And how many Christmas cards have I written? How many cookies have I baked to give away?
It almost makes me feel like I have done some good in the world.
But what if we don't count Christmas, if we take the Decembers of my life out of the equation, then what do I have to show for myself? Not much, I'm afraid.
It makes me all the more grateful for this season. Even if what we do smacks of obligation, it is a wonderful opportunity to think of others, to do for others, to share our love through cards and cookies and gifts.
And the world, and we, are better for it.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Course Corrections
I used to think that life just grabs us, locks us into a socio-economic cultural environment, dictates how we spend our days (work, school, family), and gives us few real choices.
Then I had an aha! moment.
One day I was standing in the middle of my tiny cluttered house, surrounded by my numerous offspring, daydreaming about the woman I hoped to be someday, which was nothing like the girl I was. I realized that, though I had a hope and a dream, I was not on the path! And I wasn’t really doing anything to get myself there.
It was an eye-opening, course-changing experience for me when I realized I did have choices and I needed to be making them!
Life and circumstance do dictate, to some degree, those things we need to do each day, but within the framework of our lives, from the moment of each day's awakening, we make choices. We choose to get up or not, to be cheerful or not, to get to work or not, to be nice or not, and whatever happens to us, we choose our reaction. We don't always have complete control over our circumstances, but within those circumstances we have great power to shape a life.
"Next to the bestowal of life itself, the right to direct that life is God's greatest gift to man." David O. McKay
Every one of us is an artist. Our life is the masterpiece we are creating. Every day, whether we know it or not, we pick up the paintbrush or the chisel, and work on our creation. It is the small choices we make every day that shape our character. It’s like grass growing: slowly, imperceptibly, but surely, we are growing into something.
A good question to ask is, When you get to the end of the path you're on, where will you be?
I often think (and have asked my children), "Which Kingdom are you practicing for?"
The thoughts we think, the words we say, the things we do, the entertainment we engage in--for what will they qualify us in the future?
Choices...choices...every day choices...never-ending, brain-racking, soul-searching choices.
Thank goodness we are in the driver's seat and can change course.
Then I had an aha! moment.
One day I was standing in the middle of my tiny cluttered house, surrounded by my numerous offspring, daydreaming about the woman I hoped to be someday, which was nothing like the girl I was. I realized that, though I had a hope and a dream, I was not on the path! And I wasn’t really doing anything to get myself there.
It was an eye-opening, course-changing experience for me when I realized I did have choices and I needed to be making them!
Life and circumstance do dictate, to some degree, those things we need to do each day, but within the framework of our lives, from the moment of each day's awakening, we make choices. We choose to get up or not, to be cheerful or not, to get to work or not, to be nice or not, and whatever happens to us, we choose our reaction. We don't always have complete control over our circumstances, but within those circumstances we have great power to shape a life.
"Next to the bestowal of life itself, the right to direct that life is God's greatest gift to man." David O. McKay
Every one of us is an artist. Our life is the masterpiece we are creating. Every day, whether we know it or not, we pick up the paintbrush or the chisel, and work on our creation. It is the small choices we make every day that shape our character. It’s like grass growing: slowly, imperceptibly, but surely, we are growing into something.
A good question to ask is, When you get to the end of the path you're on, where will you be?
I often think (and have asked my children), "Which Kingdom are you practicing for?"
The thoughts we think, the words we say, the things we do, the entertainment we engage in--for what will they qualify us in the future?
Choices...choices...every day choices...never-ending, brain-racking, soul-searching choices.
Thank goodness we are in the driver's seat and can change course.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Disoriented
I am sitting in an airplane headed for Hawaii. It is an eerie feeling to fly over the ocean in the dark. I don't know where in the world I am.
Two weeks ago I was on a cruise ship, sailing the Pacific Ocean. Sandwiched between sea and sky, I was disoriented as to where in the world I was.
I feel lost in Walmarts that look the same in Mexico, Hawaii and every other state.
It is December. Between tropical weather, missing the "landmark" of Thanksgiving, and being far from home and family, I am disoriented as to the time of year.
Maybe I'm just disoriented in general.
My home life is different than it's been for the past 30 years.
Changes at work put me in a different place.
I'm gone too much to feel I belong in my new ward.
My church calling makes me feel like a fish out of water.
So I find myself asking,
Where am I?
Who am I?
What am I doing?
Where am I headed?
I have no real answers, except the important one: continue in faithfulness.
And if I am asea, at least I am on the move.
Hopefully I'm headed in the right direction.
Too many people work to climb the ladder of success only to find the ladder was leaning against the wrong wall.
Two weeks ago I was on a cruise ship, sailing the Pacific Ocean. Sandwiched between sea and sky, I was disoriented as to where in the world I was.
I feel lost in Walmarts that look the same in Mexico, Hawaii and every other state.
It is December. Between tropical weather, missing the "landmark" of Thanksgiving, and being far from home and family, I am disoriented as to the time of year.
Maybe I'm just disoriented in general.
My home life is different than it's been for the past 30 years.
Changes at work put me in a different place.
I'm gone too much to feel I belong in my new ward.
My church calling makes me feel like a fish out of water.
So I find myself asking,
Where am I?
Who am I?
What am I doing?
Where am I headed?
I have no real answers, except the important one: continue in faithfulness.
And if I am asea, at least I am on the move.
Hopefully I'm headed in the right direction.
Too many people work to climb the ladder of success only to find the ladder was leaning against the wrong wall.
A Different Christmas
For the past two months I have been out of town a lot, mostly in tropical places. It is now just one week until Christmas, and I've hardly given it a thought. It was 77 degrees today, and I still can't think about it.
Considering I have a very large family who all live a mailbox away, I'm in trouble.
I've tried to put Christmas music on, but the CD or the player doesn't seem to work. I think I'm not supposed to do Christmas this year.
While I was out of town, my husband, whose favorite thing about Christmas is the smell of a fresh tree, went out, for the first time in our lives, and bought a fake tree. And it came with lights. How's that for instant, artificial Christmas?
When I got home, I put two ornaments on it, one from Hawaii, and one of a cruise ship. I think that will do.
So when we get up on Christmas morning, and for the first time have no children, no stockings, and no presents, I'll remember that this is our Christmas: that we went on a cruise with our children and I got to go to Hawaii. That should warm my soul, if indeed if it gets cold enough to need warming.
It will be a different Christmas.
I won't have to stay up late or get up early.
I won't have to spend my day tripping over stuff and cleaning up after everyone.
I won't have to put up with the joking, poking, and wrestling of siblings.
Maybe I'll have time to take a nap, for all the years I stayed up all night and didn't get one.
Just maybe I'll miss the excitement of anticipation on Christmas morning, the fun of stockings, the bright eyes and yelps of joy at opening a gift, the love and bonding of a family, the gratitude felt for gifts, for each other, and for all that Christmas means.
It will be a different Christmas.
Bah Humbug.
Maybe I won't even make cinnamon rolls.
Considering I have a very large family who all live a mailbox away, I'm in trouble.
I've tried to put Christmas music on, but the CD or the player doesn't seem to work. I think I'm not supposed to do Christmas this year.
While I was out of town, my husband, whose favorite thing about Christmas is the smell of a fresh tree, went out, for the first time in our lives, and bought a fake tree. And it came with lights. How's that for instant, artificial Christmas?
When I got home, I put two ornaments on it, one from Hawaii, and one of a cruise ship. I think that will do.
So when we get up on Christmas morning, and for the first time have no children, no stockings, and no presents, I'll remember that this is our Christmas: that we went on a cruise with our children and I got to go to Hawaii. That should warm my soul, if indeed if it gets cold enough to need warming.
It will be a different Christmas.
I won't have to stay up late or get up early.
I won't have to spend my day tripping over stuff and cleaning up after everyone.
I won't have to put up with the joking, poking, and wrestling of siblings.
Maybe I'll have time to take a nap, for all the years I stayed up all night and didn't get one.
Just maybe I'll miss the excitement of anticipation on Christmas morning, the fun of stockings, the bright eyes and yelps of joy at opening a gift, the love and bonding of a family, the gratitude felt for gifts, for each other, and for all that Christmas means.
It will be a different Christmas.
Bah Humbug.
Maybe I won't even make cinnamon rolls.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
My Piano and Me
My mother played both piano and organ, and played in church almost all her life.
She hoped all her children would learn to play the piano.
She was gravely disappointed.
With my sisters, I took piano lessons from an old man in an old house on the waterfront downtown. I took lessons long enough to learn to read music. But I didn’t like to practice, so my mother let me quit (shame on her).
I loved it when my busy mother occasionally sat down at the piano in the living room and so beautifully played. I wished I could play like her.
Then something happened. For some reason unknown to me, Mother moved the piano out of the living room and into a back bedroom that came to be called The Piano Room.
About that time I decided I really did want to learn to play the piano. Maybe moving it to a back room gave me the privacy I needed, away from seven critical and intolerant siblings.
So I spent one summer, many hours every day, in The Piano Room, teaching myself to play the piano. I started with a few songs I liked and worked until I could play them. I dug out books of music and tried every song. The first song I memorized and could play with confidence was Moon River. I continued throughout the years to try on my own to practice and improve.
I wouldn’t recommend this manner of learning to play to anyone. The things you learn wrong or don’t learn at all handicap you the rest of your life. But I did learn to play well enough to make me happy. And it exposed me to music of all kinds, marches, waltzes, spirituals, classical, popular and religious.
Sometimes, just when I thought I was playing pretty well, someone would open the door and walk in the room, and I would just fall apart. I could not play worth a darn if I thought anyone could hear me. I decided this was pretty useless. So when they asked me to play in Seminary, I determined to learn to play in public so I could be useful. It has come in handy many times.
I don’t play well; I never have and never will. I learned that you don’t have to be a concert pianist to enjoy playing the piano. It's okay to just have fun. So even though I’ve never reached even an intermediate level, I can play for myself, I can play for my family, and I even occasionally play in church. It gets me by, and I enjoy it.
I know my mother wished that I had learned to play better, but I know she's glad that I brought the gift of music to my children, that we could sit around the piano and sing together, that we learned to enjoy many different kinds of music, and that my children can now share the gift she loved so much, the gift of music, with their children.
"Music is a rich gift of God, and it is in the world to make the lives of His children happier and better."
--Clara McMaster, composer of "Teach Me to Walk", "Reverently, Quietly", "My Heavenly Father Loves Me". "
She hoped all her children would learn to play the piano.
She was gravely disappointed.
With my sisters, I took piano lessons from an old man in an old house on the waterfront downtown. I took lessons long enough to learn to read music. But I didn’t like to practice, so my mother let me quit (shame on her).
I loved it when my busy mother occasionally sat down at the piano in the living room and so beautifully played. I wished I could play like her.
Then something happened. For some reason unknown to me, Mother moved the piano out of the living room and into a back bedroom that came to be called The Piano Room.
About that time I decided I really did want to learn to play the piano. Maybe moving it to a back room gave me the privacy I needed, away from seven critical and intolerant siblings.
So I spent one summer, many hours every day, in The Piano Room, teaching myself to play the piano. I started with a few songs I liked and worked until I could play them. I dug out books of music and tried every song. The first song I memorized and could play with confidence was Moon River. I continued throughout the years to try on my own to practice and improve.
I wouldn’t recommend this manner of learning to play to anyone. The things you learn wrong or don’t learn at all handicap you the rest of your life. But I did learn to play well enough to make me happy. And it exposed me to music of all kinds, marches, waltzes, spirituals, classical, popular and religious.
Sometimes, just when I thought I was playing pretty well, someone would open the door and walk in the room, and I would just fall apart. I could not play worth a darn if I thought anyone could hear me. I decided this was pretty useless. So when they asked me to play in Seminary, I determined to learn to play in public so I could be useful. It has come in handy many times.
I don’t play well; I never have and never will. I learned that you don’t have to be a concert pianist to enjoy playing the piano. It's okay to just have fun. So even though I’ve never reached even an intermediate level, I can play for myself, I can play for my family, and I even occasionally play in church. It gets me by, and I enjoy it.
I know my mother wished that I had learned to play better, but I know she's glad that I brought the gift of music to my children, that we could sit around the piano and sing together, that we learned to enjoy many different kinds of music, and that my children can now share the gift she loved so much, the gift of music, with their children.
"Music is a rich gift of God, and it is in the world to make the lives of His children happier and better."
--Clara McMaster, composer of "Teach Me to Walk", "Reverently, Quietly", "My Heavenly Father Loves Me". "
Monday, October 02, 2006
Long Arms of Mercy
For some time now I've wanted to retire from demanding Church callings and just be the Primary pianist.
I was sitting in Relief Society thinking about this, and decided that I would have to give up this hope. Between my failing eyes, my scrambled brain, and my lack of practice, I can hardly play anymore.
Just then the Primary president appeared in the door and waved at me. You guessed it; they needed me to come and play in Primary!
I tell you this story because it’s not unusual. It seems that every time in my life I think I will get casual, or lazy, or divergent, the Lord seems to know.
"Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, " yet He always stretches out His long arms of mercy and calls me back.
I tried to do that for my own children.
When one of them would start to act out, digress, or get lackadaisical, I would show forth a little more love. Nothing big or obvious. I would touch them more, listen to them better, look into their eyes more often. I don’t believe they ever knew anything was different. But that little bit of attention and love always brought them back to the center.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath; it is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's ..
- Shakespeare
I was sitting in Relief Society thinking about this, and decided that I would have to give up this hope. Between my failing eyes, my scrambled brain, and my lack of practice, I can hardly play anymore.
Just then the Primary president appeared in the door and waved at me. You guessed it; they needed me to come and play in Primary!
I tell you this story because it’s not unusual. It seems that every time in my life I think I will get casual, or lazy, or divergent, the Lord seems to know.
"Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, " yet He always stretches out His long arms of mercy and calls me back.
I tried to do that for my own children.
When one of them would start to act out, digress, or get lackadaisical, I would show forth a little more love. Nothing big or obvious. I would touch them more, listen to them better, look into their eyes more often. I don’t believe they ever knew anything was different. But that little bit of attention and love always brought them back to the center.
I learned in basic psychology that most misbehavior is for want of attention. At every age and stage of life, we want to know that someone notices us and cares about us. We're hungry for it, starving even. Is it any wonder that love expressed can make such a difference in a person's day? To be worthy of someone's time or attention, especially our parent's, somehow makes things right, makes us feel more like doing right.
I'm very grateful for Heavenly Father's watchful eye and long arms of mercy.
I'm grateful for family and friends that have helped keep me in the fold.
For those who are straying or lost, I need to wake up and reach out.
The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath; it is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's ..
- Shakespeare
Friday, September 29, 2006
General Conference
I have many happy memories of General Conference.
When I was a child, our television may have been black and white, but we got conference—all 3 days and 6 sessions of it! It may have seemed boring, but I liked the special feeling that was in our home when conference was on.
At BYU, like many others I occasionally took the opportunity to attend conference in person in the old Tabernacle with the hard seats and pillars blocking our view. If not, then it was on every radio and TV and piped all over campus. It was in the very air.
It’s now held in the new conference center, and we often have the choice of watching it on cable at home in our jammies or going to the church. Usually we opt for going to the church.
I’ve never understood people who think conference weekend is a vacation, or why attending one session fills the minimum requirement for church that week. Don’t they know that “…the expressed will of our Heavenly Father comes to his people at conference time..." ? Alvin R. Dyer CR 10/66
Prophets, seers, revelators and other inspired leaders are telling us what God wants us to know right now! David O. McKay said, "...the Lord has magnified each one who has spoken to the end that his words have emanated from the presence of our Father." CR 10/65
Does anyone really want to miss any of what the Lord has to tell us?
I remember when I started to enjoy conference. It was when I started really listening. As an adult, I listen pretty well now. But sometimes I really hear, with my heart and mind, and not just my ears.
There have been times when I knew without a doubt that a particular message was truly straight from the Lord. I’ll never forget hearing Tanner’s talk on the role of women, Maxwell’s talk on The Not-Yet Game, Benson’s talk on pride, Bednar’s talk on the Tender Mercies of God, and Jeffrey Holland's on the Lord's succor. Truly messages from a loving Heavenly Father.
Conference for me is always kind of a checklist to see how I’m doing. How much I get out of it is part of the test.
General Conference is a time of nostalgia, of feelings and memories of the past, but it is also the thrill of hearing current revelation straight from Heaven.
There is no greater thrill than that.
I surely wouldn't want to miss it.
Tabernacle dedicatory prayer:
"And we dedicate and consecrate that portion of this house where our president and thy servants now are, to be a holy and sacred place wherein thy servants may stand forth to declare thy words and minister unto thy people in the name of thy Son forever...
May the holy angels and ministering spirits be in and round about this habitation, that when thy servants are called upon to stand in these sacred places, to minister unto thy people, the visions of eternity may be open to their view, and they may be filled with the spirit and inspiration of the Holy Ghost and the gift and power of God; and let all thy people who hearken to the words of thy servants drink freely at the fountain of the waters of life, that they may become wise unto salvation, and thereby overcome the world and be prepared for an everlasting inheritance in the celestial kingdom of God."
When I was a child, our television may have been black and white, but we got conference—all 3 days and 6 sessions of it! It may have seemed boring, but I liked the special feeling that was in our home when conference was on.
At BYU, like many others I occasionally took the opportunity to attend conference in person in the old Tabernacle with the hard seats and pillars blocking our view. If not, then it was on every radio and TV and piped all over campus. It was in the very air.
It’s now held in the new conference center, and we often have the choice of watching it on cable at home in our jammies or going to the church. Usually we opt for going to the church.
I’ve never understood people who think conference weekend is a vacation, or why attending one session fills the minimum requirement for church that week. Don’t they know that “…the expressed will of our Heavenly Father comes to his people at conference time..." ? Alvin R. Dyer CR 10/66
Prophets, seers, revelators and other inspired leaders are telling us what God wants us to know right now! David O. McKay said, "...the Lord has magnified each one who has spoken to the end that his words have emanated from the presence of our Father." CR 10/65
Does anyone really want to miss any of what the Lord has to tell us?
I remember when I started to enjoy conference. It was when I started really listening. As an adult, I listen pretty well now. But sometimes I really hear, with my heart and mind, and not just my ears.
There have been times when I knew without a doubt that a particular message was truly straight from the Lord. I’ll never forget hearing Tanner’s talk on the role of women, Maxwell’s talk on The Not-Yet Game, Benson’s talk on pride, Bednar’s talk on the Tender Mercies of God, and Jeffrey Holland's on the Lord's succor. Truly messages from a loving Heavenly Father.
Conference for me is always kind of a checklist to see how I’m doing. How much I get out of it is part of the test.
General Conference is a time of nostalgia, of feelings and memories of the past, but it is also the thrill of hearing current revelation straight from Heaven.
There is no greater thrill than that.
I surely wouldn't want to miss it.
Tabernacle dedicatory prayer:
"And we dedicate and consecrate that portion of this house where our president and thy servants now are, to be a holy and sacred place wherein thy servants may stand forth to declare thy words and minister unto thy people in the name of thy Son forever...
May the holy angels and ministering spirits be in and round about this habitation, that when thy servants are called upon to stand in these sacred places, to minister unto thy people, the visions of eternity may be open to their view, and they may be filled with the spirit and inspiration of the Holy Ghost and the gift and power of God; and let all thy people who hearken to the words of thy servants drink freely at the fountain of the waters of life, that they may become wise unto salvation, and thereby overcome the world and be prepared for an everlasting inheritance in the celestial kingdom of God."
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
High School Reunion
I did it! I survived my class reunion.
I did more than survive; I had fun!
I was glad I could locate my high school yearbook to take a peek at names and faces I haven't thought of in decades. I was glad they put our high school pictures on our name tags; no one was bashful about trying to match that memory with the older faces staring back at them. But I recognized many and could call them by name.
It was interesting to be in a room full of people all your same age.
I thought everyone looked pretty darn good. I was surprised to learn that over 30 people in my graduating class of over 400 had passed away, but then I remembered how old we all are. We really didn't look it.
I won the honors of having the most children, though I was tied with my friend Robin who wasn't there. I was one of the few who had never been to a class reunion. Other than that, I didn't have to reveal much more about myself than where I currently lived.
I learned that at least two members of my class had joined the Church. One was our class clown who joined after his experience in Viet Nam, and is now a temple worker in Mesa. The other was a quiet boy I hardly remember, but who I ended up sitting by at dinner.
I love the saying,
"When you leave a room, you take something with you and you leave something behind."
I think that is true of high school. The people you know and the experiences you have help mold the person you are. You take that with you. But you also influence others, and that stays with them.
I was gratified that even though I have thought very little of high school since I left, there were people who remembered me, were glad to see me, were even hoping I would come. Not bad for the quiet, awkward, backward girl that I was.
The hour's drive to the reunion over the familiar roads of my childhood gave me a chance to think about the experiences and relationships of my life. Amidst the serenity of evergreens, I felt an overwhelming peace about my life. I couldn't think of any loose ends, undone business, or unspent grudges. I'm not perfect and my life was far from it, yet I felt a great peace about it.
The feelings I had when looking at my yearbook were confirmed at my reunion: I went to school with really good people. When I think of my children's high school experiences, the jerks, the language, the immorality, and the drama, I feel very blessed that my asociates in school, pretty much my whole class, were really decent people, and still are.
They joked about us being too old to last the night, and I confess, in spite of my good intentions, I left a little early. I took my only chance to visit my family home on the lake. I was struck again at how lucky we were to grow up where we did, to live on beautiful lake property, to have such good friends, to have such good and pure memories in our later years.
I still don't know why I felt so strongly about attending this reunion, but it allowed me to reconnect with that formative part of my life, to experience peace about my life, and it heightened my gratitude for the blessings of my life.
Maybe I didn't go for someone else; maybe it was for me.
I did more than survive; I had fun!
I was glad I could locate my high school yearbook to take a peek at names and faces I haven't thought of in decades. I was glad they put our high school pictures on our name tags; no one was bashful about trying to match that memory with the older faces staring back at them. But I recognized many and could call them by name.
It was interesting to be in a room full of people all your same age.
I thought everyone looked pretty darn good. I was surprised to learn that over 30 people in my graduating class of over 400 had passed away, but then I remembered how old we all are. We really didn't look it.
I won the honors of having the most children, though I was tied with my friend Robin who wasn't there. I was one of the few who had never been to a class reunion. Other than that, I didn't have to reveal much more about myself than where I currently lived.
I learned that at least two members of my class had joined the Church. One was our class clown who joined after his experience in Viet Nam, and is now a temple worker in Mesa. The other was a quiet boy I hardly remember, but who I ended up sitting by at dinner.
I love the saying,
"When you leave a room, you take something with you and you leave something behind."
I think that is true of high school. The people you know and the experiences you have help mold the person you are. You take that with you. But you also influence others, and that stays with them.
I was gratified that even though I have thought very little of high school since I left, there were people who remembered me, were glad to see me, were even hoping I would come. Not bad for the quiet, awkward, backward girl that I was.
The hour's drive to the reunion over the familiar roads of my childhood gave me a chance to think about the experiences and relationships of my life. Amidst the serenity of evergreens, I felt an overwhelming peace about my life. I couldn't think of any loose ends, undone business, or unspent grudges. I'm not perfect and my life was far from it, yet I felt a great peace about it.
The feelings I had when looking at my yearbook were confirmed at my reunion: I went to school with really good people. When I think of my children's high school experiences, the jerks, the language, the immorality, and the drama, I feel very blessed that my asociates in school, pretty much my whole class, were really decent people, and still are.
They joked about us being too old to last the night, and I confess, in spite of my good intentions, I left a little early. I took my only chance to visit my family home on the lake. I was struck again at how lucky we were to grow up where we did, to live on beautiful lake property, to have such good friends, to have such good and pure memories in our later years.
I still don't know why I felt so strongly about attending this reunion, but it allowed me to reconnect with that formative part of my life, to experience peace about my life, and it heightened my gratitude for the blessings of my life.
Maybe I didn't go for someone else; maybe it was for me.
Friday, September 15, 2006
West High Class of '??
I am going to my high school reunion.
I don’t know why. I’ve never gone before. I’ve never wanted to go.
But for some reason I feel like I should.
I’m looking forward to it. I'm old enough that I'm not stressed about the usual things: I didn’t go on a diet, I didn’t buy a new outfit, I didn't have my nails done (ok, I never do). I'm comfortable going just as myself. And I think I’ve developed enough social skills to talk to people with whom I have a shared history, even if I don't remember them.
I’m glad that I never did anything to be ashamed of. I have no worries about who I might see or what they might remember.
When I was in high school I never hooked up with a particular group of friends. I was friends with everyone in my class. I liked it that way.
But when I left high school, I really left. I didn’t even glance back. I was so excited to be out of there and off to college and on to other things that I didn't stay in touch with anyone. It's been a long time since I've even thought of high school.
I’ve asked myself why I’m going. It’s certainly not to impress anyone. I don't think I'm trying to recapture the past. It's not even to rejuvenate old friendships that I don't have time for.
I think it’s more like gathering the puzzle pieces of your life and finishing the picture. It's about acknowledging the people and experiences that have made you what you are. It's about coming full circle.
I'm just guessing here. I'm really going just because I have a strong feeling that I should.
I'm even going all by myself (maybe to prove I really am a grown-up).
I may never know why I'm going, but it will be good to go home, and I plan on having a lot-o'-fun.
We are the Wildcats, the mighty, mighty Wildcats.
Everywhere we go people want to know
Who we are, and we tell them,
We are the Wildcats, the mighty, mighty Wildcats........
I don’t know why. I’ve never gone before. I’ve never wanted to go.
But for some reason I feel like I should.
I’m looking forward to it. I'm old enough that I'm not stressed about the usual things: I didn’t go on a diet, I didn’t buy a new outfit, I didn't have my nails done (ok, I never do). I'm comfortable going just as myself. And I think I’ve developed enough social skills to talk to people with whom I have a shared history, even if I don't remember them.
I’m glad that I never did anything to be ashamed of. I have no worries about who I might see or what they might remember.
When I was in high school I never hooked up with a particular group of friends. I was friends with everyone in my class. I liked it that way.
But when I left high school, I really left. I didn’t even glance back. I was so excited to be out of there and off to college and on to other things that I didn't stay in touch with anyone. It's been a long time since I've even thought of high school.
I’ve asked myself why I’m going. It’s certainly not to impress anyone. I don't think I'm trying to recapture the past. It's not even to rejuvenate old friendships that I don't have time for.
I think it’s more like gathering the puzzle pieces of your life and finishing the picture. It's about acknowledging the people and experiences that have made you what you are. It's about coming full circle.
I'm just guessing here. I'm really going just because I have a strong feeling that I should.
I'm even going all by myself (maybe to prove I really am a grown-up).
I may never know why I'm going, but it will be good to go home, and I plan on having a lot-o'-fun.
We are the Wildcats, the mighty, mighty Wildcats.
Everywhere we go people want to know
Who we are, and we tell them,
We are the Wildcats, the mighty, mighty Wildcats........
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Lessons from Choir
I can't sing. Really I can't.
I learned too late in life that one can learn to sing.
I have tried to improve, and now I can almost carry a tune.
But I still can't hear harmony very well.
When I sit by someone in choir with a strong alto voice, I can sing almost as well as they can. But if I sit by people who are struggling to find the part, then we all flounder and can't find our way.
This experience always reminds me of how much I rely on other people--on their voice, their guidance, their support--to find my way in life. And having sat beside them, now there are days that I can sing alto, or have faith, or be a good neighbor, all by myself.
I've tagged along with my accompanist mother to choir since I was 12. My improvement as a singer is marginal, but I've learned many lessons while sitting in choir.
I love a note or phrase or verse sung in unison. One voice, one mind, one heart is a powerful thing.
But there is great texture in harmony, in the mix of different voices. A harmony part by itself may sound awkward, but when put together with the whole, it makes beautiful, rich music. Harmony can tell its own story, or add interest to the melody.
We all are trying to sing The Song of Redeeming Love, but our differences need not be dissident.
I always think it's funny when the sopranos complain when they're not given the melody to sing. They are used to the easy part; they're unfamiliar with harmony. Shouldn't we all try to walk in someone else's shoes sometimes? Shouldn't we be willing to carry the harder load occasionally?
Not all people who come to choir can sing very well; some don't even read music. People come because they love to sing, or to be obedient. Almost all come willingly. That is a happy group of people. The sum of their parts is greater than the whole.
Lots of people sing very well, but don't come to choir at all.
Pox on them and their excuses.
I'm of the opinion that the whole congregation should be in the choir. It's nice to sit in the audience and listen to beautiful music, but it's even better to sing that music, joining your voice with others in making a joyful sound.
Life isn't a spectator sport. We were meant to be on stage, tuned in, hooked up and bowled over by the experience.
Every time I go to choir I have thoughts like these.
Mostly I go to choir because of hope.
I hope that if I am faithful in supporting the choir now, that maybe I will be rewarded in the next life with a voice to match my love of music.
And if I don't make the cut for the Heavenly Choir, I will have learned a lot of lessons, feebly sung a lot of beautiful songs, and still get to enjoy the music.
It's a win-win situation.
I learned too late in life that one can learn to sing.
I have tried to improve, and now I can almost carry a tune.
But I still can't hear harmony very well.
When I sit by someone in choir with a strong alto voice, I can sing almost as well as they can. But if I sit by people who are struggling to find the part, then we all flounder and can't find our way.
This experience always reminds me of how much I rely on other people--on their voice, their guidance, their support--to find my way in life. And having sat beside them, now there are days that I can sing alto, or have faith, or be a good neighbor, all by myself.
I've tagged along with my accompanist mother to choir since I was 12. My improvement as a singer is marginal, but I've learned many lessons while sitting in choir.
I love a note or phrase or verse sung in unison. One voice, one mind, one heart is a powerful thing.
But there is great texture in harmony, in the mix of different voices. A harmony part by itself may sound awkward, but when put together with the whole, it makes beautiful, rich music. Harmony can tell its own story, or add interest to the melody.
We all are trying to sing The Song of Redeeming Love, but our differences need not be dissident.
I always think it's funny when the sopranos complain when they're not given the melody to sing. They are used to the easy part; they're unfamiliar with harmony. Shouldn't we all try to walk in someone else's shoes sometimes? Shouldn't we be willing to carry the harder load occasionally?
Timing matters. There are times to sing fast, or slow, or loud or soft. Times to sing solo, or with others, in harmony or in unison. Timing matters in life. There are times to hurry, times to slow down; times to be heard, and times to be quiet; times to act on your own, and times to conform to the group. Life is a beautiful rendition when we learn the timing.
A choir would sound terrible if everyone sang their own song. It's beautiful when everyone follows the same music and the same leader. Zion is a beautiful place when everyone reads the instructions (scriptures) and follows the leader (prophet).Not all people who come to choir can sing very well; some don't even read music. People come because they love to sing, or to be obedient. Almost all come willingly. That is a happy group of people. The sum of their parts is greater than the whole.
Lots of people sing very well, but don't come to choir at all.
Pox on them and their excuses.
I'm of the opinion that the whole congregation should be in the choir. It's nice to sit in the audience and listen to beautiful music, but it's even better to sing that music, joining your voice with others in making a joyful sound.
Life isn't a spectator sport. We were meant to be on stage, tuned in, hooked up and bowled over by the experience.
Every time I go to choir I have thoughts like these.
Mostly I go to choir because of hope.
I hope that if I am faithful in supporting the choir now, that maybe I will be rewarded in the next life with a voice to match my love of music.
And if I don't make the cut for the Heavenly Choir, I will have learned a lot of lessons, feebly sung a lot of beautiful songs, and still get to enjoy the music.
It's a win-win situation.
Friday, September 08, 2006
The Race is Not to the Swift
Today in Church the priest had to repeat the sacrament prayers three times. Each time he did better until he got it perfect, as required.
I find that every time I do Dance Dance Revolution, I’m a little better than I was the last time.
Every time I exercise I’m a little more limber, a little stronger, have a little more stamina than before.
It’s nice to see some progress because there is darn little in life we see progress in.
I have to think this is true of spiritual things too. Every little prayer, every moment in the scriptures, every good thought or kind deed makes us better.
I do better physically when I exercise frequently. Occasional exercise is almost like starting over again: I'm stiff, rusty and forgetful. It's also true if I neglect my spiritual self.
Perfection seems afar off, impossible even, but maybe we get there the same way we eat an elephant, one little bit at a time. I think it takes practice, persistence, repetition, and time. It's best if plied daily.
I’d like to think, even if I can’t see it, that I’m making some progress.
One can always hope.
And keep on truckin'.
Let us run with patience the race that is set before us. Hebrews 12:1
I find that every time I do Dance Dance Revolution, I’m a little better than I was the last time.
Every time I exercise I’m a little more limber, a little stronger, have a little more stamina than before.
It’s nice to see some progress because there is darn little in life we see progress in.
I have to think this is true of spiritual things too. Every little prayer, every moment in the scriptures, every good thought or kind deed makes us better.
I do better physically when I exercise frequently. Occasional exercise is almost like starting over again: I'm stiff, rusty and forgetful. It's also true if I neglect my spiritual self.
Perfection seems afar off, impossible even, but maybe we get there the same way we eat an elephant, one little bit at a time. I think it takes practice, persistence, repetition, and time. It's best if plied daily.
I’d like to think, even if I can’t see it, that I’m making some progress.
One can always hope.
And keep on truckin'.
Let us run with patience the race that is set before us. Hebrews 12:1
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
How Nice You LOOK
We do it to ourselves, you know, and to each other.
Have you ever noticed how many of our conversations are about looks?
"You look nice today."
"Cute shoes! "
"Is that a new outfit?"
"I’m having a bad-hair day."
It places an overinflated value on appearance.
Ed said,
When men found the mirror
They began to lose their souls.
The point, of course, is that
They began to concern themselves
With their images rather than
Their selves." --Stan Herman
Maybe it’s why I like to read Jane Austen books. Their conversations are about the particulars of a person’s character. Not that it doesn’t show in the way they dress and act and live, but her characters purpose to know a person’s soul.
We don't do that in today's society. Maybe we would feel like we were judging people. Maybe we just don’t have the words for it.
So we read books, so we can know the inner thoughts and motives of other people.
Then we close our book, go visit friends, and say, “How nice you look.”
What if we said instead, “How nice you are,”
and took the time to know a soul.
Have you ever noticed how many of our conversations are about looks?
"You look nice today."
"Cute shoes! "
"Is that a new outfit?"
"I’m having a bad-hair day."
It places an overinflated value on appearance.
Ed said,
When men found the mirror
They began to lose their souls.
The point, of course, is that
They began to concern themselves
With their images rather than
Their selves." --Stan Herman
Maybe it’s why I like to read Jane Austen books. Their conversations are about the particulars of a person’s character. Not that it doesn’t show in the way they dress and act and live, but her characters purpose to know a person’s soul.
We don't do that in today's society. Maybe we would feel like we were judging people. Maybe we just don’t have the words for it.
So we read books, so we can know the inner thoughts and motives of other people.
Then we close our book, go visit friends, and say, “How nice you look.”
What if we said instead, “How nice you are,”
and took the time to know a soul.
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