The Journey Continues

Every now and then, on this journey called life, there are points in time when we learn some things about ourselves that are important to our progression.  These last couple of weeks have been a point in time such as that.  It's interesting to me how these things I learn are not new concepts.  But my capacity or even readiness to accept them is new.  I guess that's what they call progression.

Last weekend, our church had what we Mormons call General Conference.  Twice a year the leaders of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints hold meetings where they give inspired counsel to everyone all over the world.  Those meetings are broadcast on TV and also available online in many different languages.  (They remain online and available for listening, viewing or reading at http://www.lds.org/general-conference/sessions/2013/10?cid=HPFR100413113&lang=eng for anyone who wishes to access them.)  We Mormons believe we have a living Prophet on the earth today.  After all, there have been prophets on the earth through out time.  Why would this dispensation of time be any different.  Why would God not communicate to us, as he did to the people of Abraham's or Noah's day.  Well He does and I always feel something very special about these leaders.  In my heart I know what they have to say is from God and from Jesus Christ.  I always look forward to that feeling in my soul when the spirit testifies to me that something that was just said was meant for me.  I know that might sound crazy, since these men and women are speaking to the world, but that's how the spirit works.  If I'm in tune, I will hear something that touches my soul and it will be deeply personal to me.  Interestingly enough, that can happen to everyone listening with an open heart and mind.

I anticipated General Conference this time a little more than usual, due to a dream I had about 3 weeks ago.  I dreamt I was waiting for a meeting to start and waiting to hear Elder Robert D. Hales speak.  He's one of the 12 Apostles who lead our church under the direction of our Prophet, Thomas S. Monson.  There were quite a few people in this room, but a lot of them left just before Elder Hales came in to speak.  The few of us that were left moved up to the front few rows and then Elder Hales came in.  I woke before he started to speak.  As this dream occurred only a few weeks before our General Conference, and as I have learned to pay attention to dreams of this sort, I felt sure that Elder Hales would have something very specific for me.  As the first of 4 sessions started, it was announced that right after President Monson would give his opening remarks, Elder Hales would be the speaker.  Wow, right off the bat.  I wasn't going to have to wait!  To my surprise, Elder Hales spoke about conference in general.  How the topics for the talks are not assigned, but rather each Apostle ponders and prays for weeks, and then prepares what they feel the Lord is prompting them to talk about.  Okay, I knew that, so what did that have to do with me and where was my spiritual moment of inspiration.  I did feel that he was giving a great preface and explanation to the next 2 days of inspired words from our leaders.  I also felt that the people who left, in my dream before he came in to speak, represented many people in the world who were going to miss out on these next few days of spiritual strength and growth and that made me sad.  I also felt that the Lord must have a sense of humor and was now chuckling as I thought Elder Hales personally would give me my "ah-ha" moment and what he was saying was listen carefully with that open spirit to ALL the inspired talks.  I have to say, there was one thing he said that set off a spark in my heart.  In talking about how our conferences are inspired and the leaders who speak are inspired, he mentioned briefly our Stake Conferences too.  Where our General Conference is for the entire world, our Stake Conference is local and not broadcast.  We meet in a local chapel and hear our local leaders.  My geographical stake was having Stake Conference the week after General Conference.  So this inspiration would simply follow right in line and flow into the next week.  None of what Elder Hales said was a new concept.  As I said earlier, I know these men and women that hold leadership positions in our church are inspired.  I know I always gain something personal from these talks.  But the message still rang clear, "listen carefully and with an open heart over these next few days and next weekend in Stake Conference as well".

I did gain some insightful things from General Conference, things I won't be sharing here.  I then waited with anticipation for Stake Conference, which was last night and today.  Last nights session was marvelous.  It was focused on how we can use technology to help the world understand what we Mormons believe.  We can help others understand that God loves them, that He is their Heavenly Father, that He does hear them when they pray and that they can have a personal relationship with Him.  We can help others come to know that Jesus Christ is at the center of our gospel, even the center of our hearts.  Yes indeed we are Christians, unlike what current rumor would have the world believe.  We can help others find answers to questions that can help bring joy and happiness into their lives.  As I have written in earlier blogs, I started blogging for my children, a life story type of thing.  When I made the decision to open it to the public, it was a HUGE step for me.  Yes, all the things I mentioned in previous blogs are true.  This is therapeutic.  This is a way to help me open up and hopefully to help my family and future posterity understand who I am and what I believe.  But there is another reason, something I don't think I have shared.  Dieter F. Uchtdorf (another Apostle from our church) said something a few years back that stuck with me.  He told us to spread our joy and our beliefs to the world, not only with our voices, but with our fingers through text, social media and blogs.  I also was told in a very special blessing given to me as a teenager that I should teach the gospel through my testimony.  Those 2 statements are the reason I was able to follow through with opening my blog to the public.

As I continued to listen to our local stake leaders both last night and today, another topic touched my heart, surprisingly.  I say surprisingly because it is a topic that is usually very hard to listen to.  One of those things I know is a weakness of mine, therefore counsel about it just brings feelings of guilt.  The topic is forgiving others.  Being able to forgive others is something that I know is important.  It is taught to us by Christ himself and if we truly want to live a Christlike life, we need to develop that attribute.  I know these things, but making them happen in my own life is something I have found difficult to comprehend.  A while back, someone told me of a quote from another of our church leaders.  To paraphrase, it basically said that to rush forgiveness of others who have greatly wronged us, was counter productive.  Rather, we need to simply prepare our hearts and when the time is right, that ability to forgive will come.  I think I have held onto that quote, like a rite of passage of sorts, justifying my hesitancy to forgive.  As I listened to my inspired local leaders, my heart openly accepted the message offered.  There was emphasis on the fact that forgiving others might take time and not happen all at once, but we just need to persevere with the Lord's help in that direction.  I believe I have been prepared to understand  that I am capable of forgiving others.  I believe that a loving Heavenly Father knows what I need.  More importantly, when I need it and when I am capable of accepting it.  I know that through the atonement of Jesus Christ our hearts can heal and soften.  I know that sharing these things with you is the right thing to do.  So on a very personal note from me to each one of you individually, I also know that you have a Heavenly Father that loves you.  You can also come to know the joy and peace in your heart that the doctrines of Jesus Christ have brought to me.  

Many answers to questions about what Mormons believe can be found on  www.mormon.org and my personal profile can also be found at http://mormon.org/me/782S

Just Toby

I didn't think I would cry, but I did.  Our dog, Toby, had a very aggressive form of canine cancer and it finally took its toll.  So about a month ago, I drove him to the vet, knowing he wasn't coming back home with me. 

On a scale of 1 to 10 as a dog lover, I would put myself somewhere in the middle.  As a girl on the farm, we always had at least one dog, if not more.  But most were just farm dogs.  You know, just there, coming and going and just hanging around.  As for their life span, well as I said they were just coming and going.  Didn't make a big deal about an animal dying.  It just happened.  As an adult, raising my own family, we've had many dogs too.  Can't say I've had much emotion over their passing either.  So what made Toby different?  What made his life and his death something that I would want to blog about?  Not sure I have the answer to that, but I do know I want to tell you about Toby.


About 9 years ago, we set out to find a yellow lab puppy.  I knew what I wanted, a large muscular male lab.  We found the ad in the paper and drove to the breeders home to see the litter.  The pups were about 4 months old and out they ran to meet us.  There was Toby, twice the size of the other pups, bouncing all over them and dominating my attention.  He was instantly mine.  We brought him home and created a space for him in a back hallway with a doggy door to the back yard and baby gate at the other end keeping him from the rest of the house.  We would let him into the living room on occasion, but only by invitation.  Soon, the baby gate came down and he never once entered the rest of house with out that invitation.  He learned his place very quickly. 

I need to back up a bit and tell you about his name.  As I said, we got him from a breeder and he was from a champion line.  That wasn't really important to me, though.  I just wanted a good dog and I knew in my mind what he would look like.  I did register him with the AKC and in filling out the paperwork, under the name section, it seemed fitting to come up with something rather official and not simple like "Toby".  We did not have permission from the breeder to use the kennel name since we weren't planning to use him as a show dog.  I still felt compelled to come up with something fancy and fitting.  I racked my brain, and couldn't come up with anything that I liked.  Still compelled to put something longer than "Toby" down, I wrote, "Just Toby".  I have to say I felt silly when sending it off.  In the world of registered dogs with champion lines, "Just Toby" seemed rather lame.  To my surprise, when the registration came back, it had his official name as "Just Toby IV".  How cool was that!  And certainly not lame, as there were 3 other "Just Toby"s out there.

When we moved into our current home, there was no separate area for Toby, although we had that on our want list as we looked at homes.  We weren't sure how that would play out, but Toby immediately found his corner in the living room and that corner became his. 

We had Toby for almost 9 years.  That's a long time.  A lot of memories.  We've had many sets of missionaries from our church in our home and most recently, spanish speaking missionaries.  So yes, thanks to Hermana Anderson and Hermana Baumgartner, Toby became bilingual very quickly.  Toby also learned that when the sister missionaries were in the kitchen, but no other family members around, it was perfectly acceptable to enter the kitchen.

It's crazy how animals can become part of your family and part of your life.  Toby was a good dog and we will miss him.

Dear Reader......

Dear Reader,

This post is all about you.  Well sort of, but I'll get to that.  Let me start with a story.  

I've been blogging for over a year now, sharing some family history, sharing my thoughts, my beliefs, etc.  It has most certainly evolved into something I didn't expect or start out to do.  After the 1st few posts, I discovered a love for writing that I didn't know I had.  As I discovered this, I also discovered that I wanted more and more people to read it.  That might seem rather vain of me.  I prefer to think it is simply a desire for validation.  I think we get those 2 things mixed up a lot.

So let me shift gears and tell you about Vision Boards and my experience with my board.  I learned about Vision Boards in a workshop called Access Your Personal Power.  I think there might be different ways to go about creating one, but what I learned was simple enough.  You basically put things up on your board that you want to accomplish, want to be, want to have, etc.  Simply put, it's a wish list, but that really doesn't do it justice at all. There is a pattern to actually putting it up and some dos and don'ts on how to put your wishes on it.  Once created and filled with your wishes, you look at and read it everyday.  We were told to think of things we wanted.  Categories might be health, relationships, finance, spirituality, career, and what you want to be know as, etc.  There could be other categories too, it's flexible.  We were told to think way outside the box, in other words, don't think of things that are easily accessible or already in the works to accomplish.  Do think of things that you would want or hope for, but don't see how it could ever happen without a miracle.  We were given 3x5 cards to write a few of our wishes on.  We were to write it as if we already had it, using 1st person, positive verbiage.  So instead of writing something like, "I want a new car", we were told to write, "I have a new car".  When 1st introduced to this idea, I struggled with actually writing something down.  I certainly had wishes, but putting them on paper seemed extremely bold.  I did get over that feeling though and did create my version of the Vision Board. 

So I'm getting to the part where you come in.  After discovering my passion for writing, I put this statement on a card on my Vision Board, "My blog is read and loved by many all over the world."  Okay, I kind of feel like you might be laughing at me right now.  It certainly was a BOLD statement and would most definitely require a miracle.  After all, I had only recently opened my blog to the public (no password required to read) and had started putting my new posts on Facebook for my friends to see.  So there sat my card on my Vision Board, stating that "my blog is read and loved by many all over the world." 

Finally, here's your part.  I've been blogging now for about a year and a half.  I did finally open it up to search engines.  I have to admit, that was a little creepy at first, but it feels okay now.  There is a page I can go to and check the stats on the "hits" my posts and pages get.  Yes, an obsession, but it just is what it is.  I'm sure in the world of blogging my numbers, in comparison to others, would seem relatively low.  But in my world and my head they are quite
impressive for the 24 posts I have so far.  Not just the total number of hits, but where the hits are coming from.  Remember my statement on my Vision Board?  I want to share those numbers with you.  Here they are:

United States          646
Russia                       53
Australia                   11
Switzerland               11
South Korea               6
Italy                            4
Canada                       3
Ukraine                      3
China                         1
Germany                    1

For someone with a slightly obsessive personality, these numbers create a lot of curiosity.  So this next part is all about you and could be quite fun.  I'm asking and hoping that you will click on the word "comment" at the bottom of this post.  You have the option to be anonymous if you choose.  Tell me where you are, city, state, country, etc.  If you want to tell me more about yourself, feel free to do that.  I will just say that all comments come to me via email first to review.  So you could even comment and ask me not to publish it and I will happily keep your comment from going public.  I realize this could really backfire and I get nothing back.  That would be sad, but I'll get over it.  I'm hoping to make those numbers seem more real, less statistical, but that will only happen if you comment below.  If you're one of my readers that I already know about, I want you to play along and comment too.  The more the merrier.

The Return

It seems my blog has taken on a theme of my life's lessons.  It has also proven to be very therapeutic and liberating.  While I've felt myself open up and share a little of myself, I will admit there are many things I would not dream of sharing.  Perhaps a glimpse into my childhood would explain this better.  

I am the youngest of 5 and felt that I was looked at as "the perfect child".  I certainly wasn't, but I did get good grades, didn't do anything against my parents wishes, was most always respectful of them etc, etc, etc.  I felt I was always being held up against my older siblings as a role model.  As a young child, I overheard it said that I would be the one to succeed, to actually make something out of my life.  What a horrible thing to overhear, and even worse for my older siblings to hear or to feel.  I am sure this did not sit well with them and as I look back, I didn't like that feeling either.  The feeling or need to always display "perfection" was a pretty heavy load to carry, for a young child, teenager, young wife and mother, and even now as it is still with me.  I don't know that it started or was created in my childhood, perhaps I just brought that quality with me from the pre-existence into this world.  I just know that my childhood experiences were the first memory I have of the need to display perfection.  What it created in me was the need to keep all those imperfections in my family life private, very private.  So, as I continue with this blog entry, I am most definitely out of my comfort zone.

I went to a ceremony for my daughter Lynsie today.  As I sat there, I felt the need to blog about it.  With her permission, I am writing of my experience and feelings surrounding this event.  They called it a graduation.  It was a graduation from an inpatient drug rehabilitation program that she has been in for the last month.  Lynsie's life has not taken the direction I would have hoped for her.  She has had many struggles and obstacles.  She will admit that her own choices have created this path.  I can't really express her feelings or emotions as that would be her story to tell, not mine.  I wouldn't even know how or where to begin with that.  But I can express mine, so that is what I'm going to do. 

In this ceremony, the women that are in the rehab program all had the opportunity to say something about Lynsie.  I think that is what touched me the most.  They said some things that were very familiar to me.  Let me explain.

Lynsie was always my most outspoken child.  Everyone knew her, everywhere she went.  She made sure of that.  Some liked her, some did not.  That didn't seem to bother her though.  In church, she always spoke out for what she believed.  She shared that belief openly and with confidence.  She always had direction in her life.  She was a strength to other young women who didn't have such strong convictions or direction. Then, there were some events in her life that prompted the use of drugs to help her cope.  As her life continued, the pattern to use drugs as a coping method also continued.  There were some ups and downs and back and forths.  Over the years, my well meaning advice fell on deaf ears.  I'm sure partly due to her strong willed personality and most recently due to the life style she was living.  My own inability to express sincere love while giving this advice was also a key factor as well.  But the events of the last year have simply snow balled.  I saw her on a few occasions, very much under the influence of these drugs.  She had lost a lot of weight, and looked the part of a full on drug addict at deaths door.  She was not in any frame of mind to listen or accept my advice or direction.  I have to say in retrospect that advice is not what she needed.  I simply couldn't see that.  What I did see was someone I didn't know.  I remember standing in my hallway and her last high school picture caught my eye.  What a beautiful young girl she was.  I remember also looking at her the week before thinking that My Lynsie was not in there any more.  She was gone.  I didn't think she could ever possibly come back.  The damage was done.  I felt helpless and heartsick.  My actions had proven inadequate and I was emotionally done.  Although I stopped putting forth any effort to help her, my prayers never stopped.  While I had no more to give, I prayed that angels would attend Lynsie and give her what she needed and I put it all in the Lord's hands.  I had to trust that He knew what she needed and how to give it to her.  The events over the next months were an answer to not only my prayers, but the prayers of other family members pleading on her behalf as well.  A very visible angel did came to her rescue.  Her older sister, Angie.  And yes, we did name her Angela, because she was going to be our little angel.  (That's another blog story for another time though.)

Angie and her husband Jason were living in Virginia on a military assignment.  The contract was up in October 2013 and they were planning to move back to Phoenix at that time.  As Lynsie's life plummeted toward "rock bottom", Angie and Jason felt the need to come home sooner.  Arrangements were made, the contract was granted to be cut short, and they came home to Phoenix in May.  An incredibly difficult move as they had a 21 month old, an 11 month old, and Angie was 6 months pregnant.  Yes you read that right, no typos there.  And to top that, they felt they were coming home to take on foster care of Lynsie's 2 sons age 5 and 7 who were now in CPS custody.  Lynsie's 18 month old daughter was in the care of my son Zac and his wife Tess, more angels that had come to the rescue.  I think everyone felt at that time that if we couldn't help Lynsie, we could help the kids.  As it turned out, Angie and Jason did not take the boys.  A decision that was devastating to Angie.  She is so very tender hearted and spent many sleepless nights crying over that decision.  Angie and Jason went to see Lynsie.  Then came the answer and the real reason they needed to return early to Phoenix.  In a manner that only Angie could accomplish, a loving invitation was extended to Lynsie to come and stay with them.  It would mean that Lynsie would need to leave her lifestyle and her husband behind.  It took her a few days, but she did except that invitation.  Angie had been on the east coast, but the Lord knew where she was needed.  There is no one else who could touch Lynsie's heart as Angie could.

So as I sat there in this graduation at the end of the 30 day rehab  program and listened to these women talk about Lynsie, it was apparent that some liked her and some did not.  It was apparent that she had made a big impression on some and was what one called a role model and a strength to her.  They talked of her confidence and direction.  One girl who is a Mormon, but very much away from the church for a long time, expressed how she felt that Lynsie was brought into her life at this time for a reason.  She said that she felt her own testimony strengthen through her short friendship with Lynsie.  As I listened, it was apparent to me that My Lynsie had been in this rehab giving to others of her light and experience.  My Lynsie was not gone.  There are still many hurdles to leap, but My Lynsie can do that and is on her way.

John Parker and Ann Hubbard-- A Pioneer Heritage

(The statement above referring to more than 1200 posterity was made in 1980)

A few days ago I was asked if I had pioneer heritage.  This question was referring to Mormon pioneers.  Although my ancestors did not cross the plains in wagons and did not push handcarts, I do consider John and Ann Parker, my great great grandparents, to be pioneers. John became familiar with the Mormon church in the early 1840's in Leicester, England.  He and his 1st wife, Maria Scott, lost several children in infancy and they gained great comfort from the missionary message of life after death and eternal families.  He gained a testimony of the truthfulness of the teachings of the church and was baptized in 1844.  I can only assume he had a great love for the Book of Mormon as his next 2 children were named Nephi Moroni and Alma Moroni.  Ann Hubbard helped John raise his 3 children from the previous marriage.  Together they had 12 more children.  My great grandfather, Oscar Fitzallen, being one of them. 

John is described as a small man of medium height.  It is said that what he lacked in size, he made up for in charm, personality and his willingness to serve his neighbors, family and his church.  He and Ann often had missionaries in their home in England.  Some of these missionaries were prominent men in the early days of the Mormon church.  Some of them were Charles C. Rich, Brigham Young Jr, Amasa M. Lyman, Joseph Rich, and Wilford Woodruff. Ann would prepare meals for them, as well as stay up late at night washing and mending their clothes.  She would tell them she wished she could do more.  (Apparently that gene of inadequacy that attaches itself to the female DNA spans all generations.)  One of the missionaries said to her, "Sister Parker, you are doing a wonderful work with the big family you are raising and the many good deeds you are doing for the church members."  As one of many of Ann's posterity, I can look back and see her hand in the lives of my immediate ancestors and in turn, my current family.  Truly, when you teach a woman, you teach generations.  I hope Ann is looking down on all of us now and I hope her feelings of inadequacy are replaced with great joy over the growth and strength of her posterity.

John served as a Branch President in England.  He was also called to do missionary work there.  He would walk many miles to do this work and would often have eggs and other things thrown at him as he walked through the streets by those who resented his religious beliefs.

John and Ann wanted to leave England and join the early saints of the church in America.  They began to save money and the oldest son left for America 1st in 1864.  In 1877, the rest of the family was able to sail to America on the ship Idaho.  While traveling across the ocean, their 7 year old daughter Agnes was standing next to her father John on the side of the ship.  She stepped down onto a ledge and her feet slipped out from under her.  She held onto the railing, but her feet were dangling above the ocean below.  John grabbed her clothing and was able to pull her to safety.  They traveled 12 days on that ship before arriving in America. They made their way to Utah by train (I believe) and later to Liberty, Idaho.  They later moved to a homestead in South Liberty, which later became known as Lanark, Idaho.

Once in Idaho, their contribution to the church did not stop.  John continued missionary work and other church service, "contributing much time and means to the growth of the church".  Church leaders were always welcome in their home for a meal or a nights stay.  One day while sitting on his porch, a buggy pulled up in front and a man said, "Howdy, Brother John."  At first he didn't know who it was, but only took a minute to realize it was Joseph F. Smith and Francis M. Lyman and two of their daughters.  They stayed for dinner.

When the Lanark ward was organized in 1893, Ann was called to serve as the 1st counselor in the Relief Society.  She served there for 6 years. 

I am so glad to have the written histories that I have.  What little bit of information they provide tells me a lot about John and Ann.  They were both dedicated and giving people.  They stayed true to what they believed in, even through difficulty and trial.  They were hard working.  They were loved by many.  Ann was an excellent housekeeper, "a place for everything and everything in its place".   She was a good cook and known for her Yorkshire Pudding that she always made with roast beef.  It is said that Ann made the best of any situation.  She always had peppermint candy for her grandchildren.  Her grandchildren loved her and loved to spend time with her.  My grandpa, Oscar Thomas Parker, was one of her grandchildren.  I love my grandpa and he loves his grandma.  That seems to link me to her in a very real way and I look forward to meeting her.

Accessing My Personal Power

Today I attended a workshop called  "Access Your Personal Power".  It's presented by a couple of friends of mine and I've attended this workshop before.  There's a particular exercise they do called "validation".  While the entire workshop is incredibly worthwhile, the validation exercise is my favorite part.  They start by watching a short You Tube video  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cbk980jV7Ao  
Then each person pairs up with someone they don't already know.  You spend a minute just looking at each other, no talking, attempting to see all the good within them, and of course allowing them to look at you with the same objective.  Remember I said I have done this a few times, but the 1st time was most definitely uncomfortable.  Then one person tells the other the words that come to their mind as they see the good.  After a few minutes, you switch and now the other person talks and lists the good seen while looking in the eyes of the 1st person.  This might sound strange or quirky to some, definitely uncomfortable to others.  But until you have experienced it, you can't imagine the impact it has, both as the giver and the receiver.  So today, as we did this, one of the words said to me was "open".  That put a huge smile in my heart.  That word is not just a word for me.  That word carries a whole lot of story and a whole lot of progress.  Anyone who has read some of the earliest entries in my blog, or has known me for a long time, knows that in the past, I have not been an "open" person at all.  Quite the opposite.  The evolution of this blog has gone from a personal, closed, locked blog that only my children were allowed to view with their password, to a blog that anyone interested can read.  The original purpose was so my children could learn who I really am.  Something I failed to allow them to see.  Perhaps "failed" is a harsh word and would be better to say I was simply unable to allow them to see who I really am, because I didn't even know myself.

The 1st time I attended this workshop, I sat through the whole thing very hesitant to speak up or interact.  That was very typical of me, not feeling like anything I had to say would be of any worth to anyone.  Of course there are "stories" and experiences that have contributed to those feelings.  I don't feel that a public blog is the appropriate forum to be specific about those "stories", and would certainly not serve any worthwhile purpose to do so.  But I have gotten to a place where I can be very open about those things if I feel it is appropriate and would serve a purpose.  In the last few years, I have been involved in counseling and therapy, along with attending workshops of this kind.  I have discovered some great things about myself and yes have most definitely opened up.

A couple other words that were used as my partner looked at me in this validation exercise were "calm" and "peace".  I have to say that the experiences I have gone through in my past and am currently going through would not typically be described as peaceful or calming.  Quite the opposite.  I do feel an inner peace and calm though.  Having that show through to others is heart warming.  I have come to an understanding that pain (of all types) is real and we can't escape it, non of us can.  Pain in this life is not optional.  Suffering on the other hand is.  We can choose how that pain will effect us.  I don't mean to imply that I have perfected the art of "peace" and "calm".  There are plenty of days that I don't feel that way at all.  It is my goal though and to have others see that in me is an indication that some how, in some way I am beginning to learn to access my own personal power.

Trust

I haven't blogged in a few months and boy do I feel it.  It has been said that inspiration minus expression equals depression.  Oh, I'm not really depressed, but I sure feel kind of "dreary".  I want to write and sometimes have thoughts and ideas, but I just don't follow through with blogging them.  I think I feel like I need to have the whole "story" in my mind from start to finish.  When I don't have that, I just don't start.  But I really feel the need to write something.  So here I am, at my keyboard, with a few hints of ideas, but nothing complete.  I'm trusting that something good will happen here.  This should be interesting!

I have a song in my head.  It's on the top of my favorite playlist so I hear it a lot.  It's called You Raise Me Up by Josh Groban.  It has a very soothing melody and starts out:       

           When I am down and oh my soul so weary,
           When troubles come and my heart burdened be,
           Then I am still and wait here in the silence
           Until you come and sit a while with me.

 This song continues with a chorus:

            You raise me up so I can stand on mountains.
            You raise me up to walk on stormy seas.
            I am strong when I am on your shoulders.
            You raise me up to more than I can be.

This chorus repeats a few more times, starting out somewhat quiet and peaceful.  Each time it repeats the volume increases, until the final rendition, which is very powerful! 

I love music.  It would be fair to say that good music speaks to my heart.  Some of the best inspiration comes while listening to music.  As I said, I hear this song a lot.  But not too long ago, after hearing it numerous times, it occurred to me that this song is not just for comfort.  Don't get me wrong.  It provides great comfort.  But on this one occasion, this song sounded like a call to action, even a battle cry.  I could see myself standing on that mountain and I wasn't there for a picnic or to sight see.  I was on that mountain to get a broader view.  You know what I mean.  When you're standing up on a mountain you have a different vantage point, you see things differently.  You see things more clearly and of course, there's more to see, much, much more.  Perspective is different.  Maybe even an eternal perspective. 

And those stormy seas!  Yeah, how about those stormy seas.  We all face them.  But we don't learn to walk on those seas just to show off or brag.  We do gain strength by trusting in the one person, the only person that can help us raise up out of the depths of the troubled waters.  I realized that conquering those storms doesn't mean they go away.  However, it does mean that I can realize my own strength and the power I have within, when partnered with the strength, power and love of Jesus Christ.

When I envisioned myself on the shoulders of the Savior, I felt bigger than life.  I felt I was now face to face with the Goliaths in my life and able to look those Goliaths straight in the eyes, yeah both eyes, not just one.  I could meet them head on and not shrink!  But only on the shoulders of my Savior.

Perhaps there's a reason for that clearer, broader view, that eternal perspective and there's something we should be doing with the strength we gain from rising out of the troubled seas and facing our Goliaths head on.  Perhaps there's a grand plan for all of us.  One that requires we become more than we think we can possibly become. A plan that requires we learn to trust and move forward, even when we don't see the whole plan or "story" from start to finish.  Of course, we get to choose whether we stand on that mountain in the first place.  We get to choose if we accept the help of our Savior and rise up out of the stormy water.  Yes, we get to choose to start our story, and keep moving, not knowing where it will lead.


link to this incredible and inspiring song

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oni0tO_HN30

Grateful For Rain

It's been raining in Phoenix.  Yes, it does rain here sometimes.  It's actually rained for several days straight.  I know other parts of the country get this kind of socked in, no sun for days kind of rain.  But we don't get it too often.  So at church on Sunday, during a prayer, it was said that we are "grateful for the rain".  I started thinking about that.  Why are we grateful for rain?  Are we grateful for the wet, maybe dangerous roads?  No.  How about the fact that our young children have to stay inside and can't go outside to play.  Umm, I think not.  Maybe for the 'wet dog smell' inside our homes, or the mud tracked in on the floors.  Yuck.  Then there are the leaky roofs, the mass weed growth and the allergies and sickness.  Are we thankful for that.  NO!  It was pretty easy to figure out though.  We know the rain is needed for several reasons.  It provides much needed moisture to the plants and vegetation.  Not the weeds, but the good stuff.  The beautiful landscapes, trees, flowers.  And most definitely the crops that supply our food.  So less rain means less food, means higher prices.  So we certainly like the rain for that.  It fills our lakes and reservoirs.  Through natural processes, it supplies the needed drinking water that sustains our own lives.  Pretty simple to understand.  We are grateful for the rain because we understand the necessity of it and the end result.  We see the big picture.  We know that the momentary inconveniences are just that, momentary.  We know that the positive out weighs the negative.  We know that weeds can be pulled and the roads will dry out.  We know that the sun is still shining behind those dark clouds and we will enjoy the warmth of the sun again.  Such an easy concept to understand. 

I quite often wish I could see the end result of my storms, my trials.  To know what the good outcome will be and to see just how it really does out weigh the bad.  To see the necessity of it all.  Maybe it's enough to know that the storms of life are temporary, that the weeds can be pulled, the flowers will grow and the Son is still shining on my behalf.

When Children Pray

I believe a child’s prayer gets special attention in the priority chain.  At least it seems that way a lot of the time.  They certainly teach me a thing or two when it comes to getting prayers answered.

It was October 2007 when my mother-in-law had a heart attack.  It was not fatal, but triggered a snowball effect of one medical issue after another.  Grammy was extremely fearful of anything medical and said that if anyone ever “cut on her” she would bleed to death.  That almost happened when a simple procedure wouldn’t stop bleeding and she was rushed into an emergency surgery.  She was then sedated to give her body time to heal without movement.  As they weaned her off the sedation, she didn’t really wake up, and then it was down hill from there, one problem after another.  Days and weeks went by as my husband and his 3 siblings kept a schedule of round the clock attendance in her hospital room.  She was never alone, always having one of her four children with her. 

At that time, my son Chad and his wife lived in Australia with their eight children.  They had plans to move back to the states in May of 2008.  Chad was Grammy’s oldest grand child and there was certainly a special bond between the two of them.  When he moved to Australia the year before, he accepted that Grammy could die while he was away.  Now, faced with the reality, a decision was made.  They would move their plans ahead and come home as soon as they could sell furnishings and vehicles to pay for airline tickets for the whole family.  It was now December and Grammy hadn’t improved much.  It was just a matter of time now.  We all knew it and were just hopeful that Chad would get home in time to see her.  I was talking with Chad on the phone one day and he told me all of his children, at least the ones old enough to pray, would ask in every prayer, “Please help us get back to Arizona in time to see Grammy before she dies.”  My heart sank.  Grammy was in ICU and only adults were allowed in.  Even if they got back in time, the kids would not be able to “see” her.  I told this to Chad and asked him to prepare them, or at least to re-word their prayer to a more realistic request.  In his usual manner, he just said, “We’ll see.”  I knew that meant he was not going to say anything to them.  I felt helpless.  My grand children would be so upset. 

Days went by, the vigil at the bedside continued.  It was now January 2008.  Then it happened, a noticeable improvement.  Grammy started moving and mumbling.  Before long she was awake.  She had a trach in, so talking was difficult, but she was able to communicate and then a procedure was done to make talking easier with the trach.  She was still very weak, but improving and communicating.  Then, the day before Chad’s family was scheduled to arrive, Grammy was moved from ICU to a regular room.  I was humbled and grateful.  The next day, we picked everyone up from the airport and drove straight to the hospital.  Chad, Mary and 8 children took turns having brief visits with Grammy at her bedside.  The next few weeks were filled with lots of visits; Grammy enjoying her time with everyone, just as much as they with her.  Some days were filled with hope that things would just keep improving and some days were not.  Then Grammy took a real turn for the worst and was unable to wake again.  She died soon after.  Those few weeks were such a sweet tender mercy to the family.  I know that I was filled with amazement at the manner the prayers were answered.  I don’t think any of my grand children were amazed though.  I think they simply expected it.  That, in itself, is the big difference.