Join me in my search for meaning, for worthwhile pursuits, for discovery.
"Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you." --1 Peter 3:15
Turmoil. It is a part of life. It is like a muddy boot stepping into a clear, running stream, churning up the muck and mud from the bottom. When life gets cloudy and cluttered, sometimes we are our own worst enemies by continuing to stir up more debris.
The best solution? Be still. Be calm, and let one's heart return to a state of clarity. Put oneself in a position to listen to the whisperings of the Spirit which otherwise can't be heard above the roar of the crowd.
The best place to do that?
"One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to enquire in his temple." Psalms 27:4
Photo credit: Portland Oregon Temple by Lynn Howlett Photography
I wasn't very old. In fact it was 40 years ago, exactly, that as an eight-year-old, I was guided toward my best decision. Today is the 40th Anniversary of my baptism.
My bishop had counseled me to make note of the date so that every year I would be able to look back and remember. I was startled this morning when I did the simple math, and realized that so many years had passed.
We remember key moments in our lives, and this was a significant event. Perhaps at the time, I didn't completely understand the full weight of this experience, but I did feel that I was following the Savior's example and that made me feel important.
Though we lived in Lander, Wyoming, we had to travel to the Riverton Wyoming Stake Center for the baptism. Seated in a long row with the other children waiting to be baptised, I vividly remember feeling quite self-conscious. We were all similarly dressed in white baptismal suits and mine had some type of stain on one leg. Carefully I sat with my hands covering the imperfection. I wondered if it would still be all right for me to get baptized in a suit that wasn't spotless. Should I mention it to someone?
In the years that have passed, I have learned much more about this important and necessary saving ordinance, and I have actually thought about that conspicuous blemish that bothered me as I entered the waters of baptism. Part of Baptism is its ability to cleanse and purify all of those blemishes that are not always as conspicuous.
As I arose out of the water, my silly preoccupations were replaced with peace, knowing that at that moment, I stood without spot, without blemish, without sin, before my loving Heavenly Father and that He was pleased with my decision and my action.
Years have passed, and I am still honored to be part of God's Kingdom on earth. It was a good decision.
Children are a miracle. We think we have so much to teach them. When the opportunity comes along to spend a little time in their company, the real miracle is in realizing what they have to teach us.
I learned this recently as my husband and I took care of our two-year-old granddaughter for ten days while her parents vacationed in Hawaii. Never once did we think that we weren't getting the best end of that deal. She was a joy to be with. We began seeing the world through her eyes. We began looking for moo-moo cows in the fields along the road. We began to simplify, slow our pace, and practice making animal noises.
In other words, we rediscovered the joy of living.
I was reminded of the lovely poem by William Wordsworth as I looked at this priceless photo of my granddaughter sitting at the feet of the Christus statue in the Idaho Falls Temple Visitors Center. As I look in her eyes, I realize that the Savior is someone she already knows, already respects, and very well may still remember.
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God, who is our home:
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
These words may be the most oft-quoted part of the poem, Ode, Intimations of Immortality From Recollections of Early Childhood, and they are powerful, but there is another passage that resonates with me just as strongly.
THERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparell'd in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore;—
Turn wheresoe'er I may,
By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
How easily we lose sight of the wonder in simple things. How hardened and pessimistic and distracted we become as we strive to eat our bread by the sweat of our brow. Life isn't meant to be a cakewalk; we are here to work, and yet I can't believe that a loving Heavenly Father doesn't intend for us to look upon His creations with the freshness they deserve. How quickly we lose the wonder, the joy, the gratitude.
Thank you, my sweet Evelyn, for teaching your grandma. Thank you for the light in your eyes and your reverence for sacred things. That wasn't taught to you by the inhabitants of mortality. It was taught to you by angels.
Some people have the magic touch. I don't know how much of it has to do with their raw material, but in the way they prepare and present, anything can become a work of art. This past weekend at the Pike Place Market in Seattle, this became apparent with the wares on display. Each individual grower or producer or artisan had fashioned exhibits that were stunning in their simplicity. And I wasn't the only one that was snapping pictures of nature at its finest.
The more I see of life and the more experiences I have under my belt, the more I am reminded that we all possess our own unique skills and talents. As I moved through the crowds, seeking out photo opportunities, I knew that others were seeing things that I wasn't. I was wishing I had the "Artist's Eye" that is so evident in photographers' work. But I can't pretend that I do. I am such a literal person; I see the world as it is, straight-up.
We are all imbued with creativity, and have creative outlets. My hobbies may not be the same as your hobbies, but therein lies the challenge of discovery. While I may admire the talents of others, I must uncover, embrace and explore my own. I am reminded of the brilliant address by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf on the power to create. Enjoy!
Sometimes I pick up a pen to learn. Sometimes I have no idea what I plan to write, but I have confidence that the juices will begin to flow as I take a leap of faith. What follows is what spilled out today:
I had some rather disappointing news yesterday. Yet again, a publisher returned my manuscript, uninterested. Discouraged? Yes. The end of the world? No. Do I still have options? Yes. Does it take a little courage to pick myself up, dust myself off, and begin again? Most certainly.
I still believe in my project. I still believe it has something to offer the reader that wants to reaffirm and solidify his scripture study habit. Is it fresh, original, and cutting edge? Perhaps not, but then again, what eternal truths are fresh, original, and cutting edge?
My book is built upon a foundation of important scriptures and quotes from modern prophets about the importance of reading The Book of Mormon, and of valuing this amazing, miraculous gift that has been written, preserved, and brought forth for our learning by the hand of the Lord. It is interspersed with my own personal experiences as I challenged myself to improve my own study. It is filled with testimony of the surety of God's blessings upon those that are diligent. It is meant to be encouraging, inspiring, and to get the reader into the scriptures with both feet.
I felt directed to write about my experience, knowing that there must surely be others who weren't making as valiant an effort as they could be either. It took courage to admit my shortcomings, but the resultant opening of my eyes, the increased appetite to feast at the Lord's table, and the rekindled love of gospel study had to be recorded, if nothing else than for my own posterity to know of my conviction.
I believe my journey has the power to strike a chord with someone else. That was my motive. And I still believe it is worth being published.
A friend posted a timely quote this morning. It shot straight through my heart and gave me courage to continue on this path less traveled: "’Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death.” – Leonardo Da Vinci
Oh, may my heart take courage and my mind not shrink.
My desk is covered with books. It is stacked with notebooks and pens and paper clips and tools, and the shelves that surround me are filled with more books, and scrapbooks, and notebooks, and craft supplies, and photographs. This is my little bit of heaven on earth. This is my happy place. The exciting thing for me is to discover what will reach out and grab my attention on any particular day.
Today brought one of the biggest surprises I have had in awhile. I don't always know or remember how some things end up within arm's reach of my desk(s) (for you see I actually have two desks and two chairs which make it perfect for guests to stop by and visit me in my happy place; I especially love when my children, or my husband, peek in and pull up a chair). A beautiful purple book begged my notice. I remember buying this book because one of the authors was a Seminary teacher of mine from years ago. The book is entitled The New Testament for Today: Biblical Stories with Modern Parallels By W. Jeffrey Marsh and Ron. R. Munns, but I hadn't found the time to read it until now.
I immediately became engaged, enjoying the format of a passage of scripture from the New Testament which was then followed by commentary or a story from latter-day disciples.
On page twenty-five, one of my favorite passages was shared from Matthew 6:24-33, wherein Christ admonishes his followers to put their trust in God, to "take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink...And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field,how they grow...even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these....for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you."
Following these verses was a true story, entitled "Your Children Shall Never Beg for Bread." This story has since been made into a film, entitled Treasure in Heaven, and I found a trailer for it on youtube. After you watch the trailer, I will tell you why this story found me sitting in tears, all alone in my little room, my heart overflowing with gratitude.
From the book I read today: "It is estimated that at various times John gave or loaned over fifty thousand dollars to Joseph Smith and the Church. Later, as John forgave the remaining debts incurred while in Kirtland, Ohio, "the Prophet Joseph laid his right hand heavily on Elder Tanner's shoulder, saying, 'God bless you, Father Tanner; your children shall never beg bread'.
"John Tanner sacrificed everything he had for the gospel, and the promise given to him by the Prophet Joseph Smith has been literally fulfilled."
I am a direct descendant of this John Tanner. Not too many generations pass without linking him to my Grandmother Frances Carter Yost, then my mother Caroline, and then me. Also interesting to note, the missionaries that blessed John to be healed and then baptized him, are also ancesters from my mother's line, Simeon and Jared Carter, brothers to my Great Grandfather Gideon Carter.
Sitting in my own little sanctuary, I was faced with the reality of my great heritage, while reading this lovely story in a seemingly random book. In doing so, I felt the direct love of my Heavenly Father. Because of the great sacrifices of those that have gone before me, I am reaping the great blessings of an inconquerable legacy. My humble needs have always been met. I have always had a roof over my head. I have always had food in my cupboard. I have always found a way to clothe my children, even if it meant sewing play clothes from scraps from the sewing factory.
"Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin...Wherefore if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?"
My prayer is that we will always remember from whom our greatest blessings flow; that if we make our lives as holy offerings to God, He will pour out blessings from the windows of heaven, "that there shall not be room enough to receive it." (Malachi 3:10)
They burst upon the scene in their Preparation Day clothes. They overflow with energy, with enthusiasm, with child-like wonder. They have a well-earned day off to relax, to kick off their walking shoes, and to let their hair down a little. They are eager for coastal diversions and some clam chowder at Mo's.
Their zealous Zone Leaders have envisioned the perfect zone photograph, and all have come prepared with their special baptismal clothing. Suddenly this rowdy, boisterous group transforms into the humble servants that they are, radiating the spirit of who they really are and who they represent.
Then with the same energy and eagerness of before, they run out the door, full speed, to accomplish their mission of the day.
From my perch above, I begin to see specks of white on the sand below. More follow, and just as the night sky fills with light one by one, soon the beach is filled with white stars.
In short order, the chaos organizes itself, and pays tribute to the "Best Mission in the World": The Oregon Eugene Mission. It was a singularly special event, one I felt privileged to be apart of. Thank you for sharing your spirit and your light with us.
Given the heads-up by my daughter, Jackie, that it had been re-released as a PG-13 version, Brian and I immediately found time in our schedule to see "The King's Speech", this year's darling of the Oscars.
It held us spellbound the entire two hours, while being completely devoid of thrills, action, or explosions. Instead, it reached into the reservoir of our own insecurities. Who isn't able to identify in some way with this portrayal of a man faced with an unfortunate deficiency?
I was reminded of the great scripture from the prophet Moroni, found in the Book of Ether, Chapter 12. He had expressed his concern to the Lord about his inadequacies, fearing the mockery of men. The Lord reassured him that it is these very things that make us feel so lacking that can become our strengths if we learn to rely upon Heaven for help to overcome them.
"And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them."(Book of Mormon, Ether 12:27)
It also made me think of the great Apostle Paul, who humbly admits to his own "thorn in the flesh", which "thing (he) besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from (him)." In similar words which He spoke to Moroni, the Lord tells Paul: "My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness."
Recognizing that trials and weaknesses do, indeed, turn us to the Savior in humility, Paul then rejoices in his weakness: "Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong." (2 Corinthians, 12:7-10)
I love the zeal with which Paul approaches things, even to the point of rejoicing in his infirmities. Bless his heart! I'm not sure I am at that point, but I do recognize that the power of the Lord can aid us in overcoming weaknesses and making up the difference when we fall short.
I would encourage you to see this edited version of The King's Speech. It will certainly become a classic of uplifting and inspiring filmmaking. I must warn of strong language, but unlike most movies that throw it in gratuitously, the strong words in this case actually do help move the story along.
Have you ever lived with regret? Have you ever let an opportunity pass you by because you were simply too afraid to act upon it? Sadly I have, certainly more than once, but perhaps none quite as memorable as a snorkeling trip in the Caribbean.
When my children were young, we planned and took "The Trip of a Lifetime". We actually called it that because we never anticipated being able to do it again. In preparation for this trip, which would include a snorkeling opportunity, I bought my kids snorkeling gear and took them to a local pool to practice. I wanted them to get the most from their adventure in the ocean, without being hampered by not being familiar with the equipment. They practiced going along the surface; they practiced diving down and following it with a mighty burst of air to clear the water from their snorkel tube. They were ready. What followed was one of the most humbling experiences of my life.
It was a beautiful day on Castaway Cay. There was sun; there was sand. I think Brian and Miranda were staying near the shore while Jackie, Robert, Erica and I set out like the adventurors we were to snorkel in the bay. Feeling reasonably confident with their snorkeling skills, each took off in their own direction to explore the recesses of this normally out-of-bounds world.
Drifting along casually, enjoying the sun on my back, I was startled by something sparkling in the sun. Wait a minute. What IS that? Hovering at the surface of the water, I eventually determined that a golden ripple in the sea grass was indeed REAL gold. I was able to make out a claw hook and realized it was a gold necklace, left behind some other day by some other snorkeler.
Now is the time to use that practiced skill of diving to the bottom and claiming my treasure. And yet? I WAS PARALYZED WITH FEAR. I couldn't bear the thought of filling that tube with sea water. I couldn't bear the thought of sucking in a mouthful of salt. In hindsight, apparently my brain was paralyzed too. It never occurred to me to rip the snorkel out of my mouth and just hold my breath.
Did I claim the prize and come home the snorkeling champion? No. After looking for any kind of landmarks, of which there were none, I surfaced to look for one of my expert children to dive for me. In doing so, and treading water with my fins, I churned up all kinds of sand and sea grass and was never able to find the necklace again.
Life brings all kinds of lessons, doesn't it? This painful one has always remained in the back of my mind, never to be forgotten. I think of it whenever an opportunity comes along that, for one reason or another, fills me with fear. I think of it whenever I read scriptures that speak of fear like: "but you feared and the time is past"(D&C 9:11), or "there were fears in your heart, and verily this is the reason that ye did not receive" (D&C 67:3), or "But with some I am not well pleased, for they will not open their mouths, but they hide the talent which I have given unto them, because of the fear of man" (D&C 60:2).
I hope you are not living with regrets due to fear. They may be the most painful kind.
I have been thinking a lot about potential. To what degree are we utilitzing our innate, God-given potential? Are we mining clear to the depths, exploring every possibility, stretching and building every muscle? Or are we merely skimming the surface, making do with the acceptable, leaving untapped the most valuable resources of all?
Honestly, the impetus for this train of thought has sprung from my son, Robert. Naturally as his mother I have always considered him a wealth of brilliance, talent, skill, and of course, boundless potential. And he has never let me down. I have seen in him qualities of a great leader, a great scholar, a great musician. While becoming a great missionary, a great husband, and a great father, he continues to cultivate those gifts that are unique to him.
During our last visit with him and his family, he overwhelmed us with an overview of his future aspirations. I always expected great things from him, but he has set his sights even higher than they've ever been. The sky is not the limit for this man; he truly seems to be shooting for the stars, setting goals that will stretch himself to perform, to lead, to tackle great challenges.
My counsel to my son? Go for it! You take the gifts you have been given and stretch them to their very limits, and then watch them grow even more. I have felt from the beginning of your life that you are destined for greatness.
President Gordon B. Hinckley would give you this counsel:
"The Lord would want you to be successful. He would. You are His sons and His daughters. He has the same kind of love and ambition for you that your earthly parents have. They want you to do well and you can do it."
Don't stop believing in yourself, nor in giving credit where it is due, that being your Father in Heaven. All blessings come from Him. Determine to serve Him and He will help you always.
In looking forward to a new year of change, of improvement, of accomplishment, I want to quote two of the wisest men I know. The first is President Thomas S. Monson as he quotes another legendary statesman:
"Professor Harold Hill, in Meredith Willson's The Music Man, cautioned: 'You pile up enough tomorrows, and you'll find you've collected a lot of empty yesterdays.'
"There is no tomorrow to remember if we don't do something today, and to live most fully today, we must do that which is of greatest importance. Let us not procrastinate those things which matter most." (Conference Report, April 2003)
Are you a procrastinator? Are you merely dreaming of better days, or are you doing something to assure them?
My new mantra for the new year is "No Excuses!" And that is how I intend to live.
I know that I have weaknesses that have held me back in the past. No excuses.
I know that I am getting older, with all the limitations that imposes. No excuses.
I know that I get distracted by time-wasters. No excuses.
The old cliche' has been around a long time because it is an indesputable truth:
The longest journey starts with just one step.
I am choosing to look forward, with my eyes on the promise of a brighter future,
determined to take it one step at a time..
And the value of that first small step? "Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great." D&C 64:33
I apologize to my old-timers, but I have a desire to re-visit an old blogpost today. It was written last December, and as I read through it, I felt its message was something I needed to hear again. Enjoy.
I have been intrigued lately with the word "meaning". Why is it so coveted? Why does it seem so elusive? How is it possible to transcend the mundane everyday drudgery simply by being able to attach "meaning" to it?
This word keeps popping up all over the place. "Man's Search for Meaning"; "Does the song you sing have enough meaning..."; the TRUE meaning of Christmas; see what I "mean"? ;-)
In Victor L. Frankl's book, he quotes the words of Nietzsche: "He who has a Why to live for can bear almost any How." The root of his survival while in a Nazi concentration camp was his ability to attach meaning to his life and retain a hope for a happy life after that bleak experience was behind him. And as terrible as that experience was, it reinforced for him WHAT was truly meaningful to him. Life is not primarily a quest for pleasure, or a quest for power or wealth; it is truly a quest for meaning. Remarkably and perhaps as one of God's greatest gifts it is our responsibility to find the unique meaning of our own lives.
"Frankl saw three possible sources for meaning: in work (doing something significant), in love (caring for another person), and in courage during difficult times." (from the Foreword to Man's Search for Meaning)
You know, when I entitled my blog, Ardith's Quest, I think I was subconsciously defining my desire to search for meaning in my life. The last 26 years have been spent primarily focused on my family and that has provided wonderful meaning for my life. As my children have grown and are leaving home, now I can see that my quest is to find other sources of meaning. What will be my reason for getting out of bed in the morning? What will be my impetus for self-improvement?
Some of the greatest questions ever posed illustrate the universal quest for meaning: Where did I come from? Why am I here? Where am I going? Thankfully the Gospel of Jesus Christ in its restored fullness has provided me with those answers. The challenge of enduring to the end is where my quest for meaning will be most "meaningful" and necessary.I have made it this far, but in reality I am (hopefully) only at the halfway mark of my life on earth. What will provide meaning for the next 46 years? Will the song in my heart have enough meaning to be shared with others? I hope so. I feel like the Lord has blessed me with some gifts that He intends for me to use productively, and ultimately I will be held accountable to Him for their use. Perhaps it is time to find a shovel, remember where I buried my talents, and see if I can uncover, dust off, and use those gifts to add some meaning to my life and to others.
May you and your family enjoy a meaningful Christmas. May you find meaningful activities, and may your traditions bespeak the true meaning of this sacred holiday season.
I turned off of Rural Ave. into the alley way behind Church Street. I pulled my car into the little car port. I walked up the back steps of the little house, key in hand. Upon unlocking the door I hesitantly stepped inside.
It was as though nothing had changed. Could ten years really have lapsed between today and the last time I opened that door?
The little house is a special place. It really is a single-family dwelling that was converted years ago into a Seminary building for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, located across the street from the front entrance to the high school. For years, faithful students have daily crossed the divide from the worldliness of high school hallways to the sanctuary of that little house. They have braved the suspicion and mockery from those in the large and spacious building, being desirous to fill their day with the peace that comes from the word of God.
My new class meets three times a week, and my responsibility will be to fill those three meetings with an entire week's worth of lessons. My new class is made up largely of freshmen and sophomores. My new class was very welcoming (for high school students), very attentive (for high school students), and very respectful. I may even have the courage to return tomorrow....
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer.
Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."
-- Henry David Thoreau
Individuality. There has never been a greater need for it. Why do we wrestle to keep step with the common cadence, when our souls long to be free?
I have come to understand more and more as I increase in age and wisdom (well, at least in age....), that our missions here on earth are varied and unique. What a blessing. I was sent here to accomplish my own set of achievements, and so were you! And in the grand scheme of things, it then becomes necessary for us to have our own unique set of abilities, passions, and talents. WE ARE MEANT TO BE DIFFERENT. Let us then rejoice in that. Let us then not squelch who we really are.
Let us then accomplish our special purposes and not try to hide them. What does the Lord need from you to help build up His Kingdom here on earth? Are you filling the measure of your own personal, matchless creation?
Elder John A. Widtsoe spoke of the importance of our divine callings: "We need...a group of men and women in their individual lives who shall be as a light to the nations, and standards for the world to follow. Such a people must be different from the world as it now is....We are here to build Zion to Almighty God, for the blessing of all the world. In that aim we are unique and different .... We must respect that obligation, and not be afraid of it. We cannot walk as other men, or talk as other men, or do as other men, for we have a different destiny, obligation, and responsibility placed upon us, and we must fit ourselves for that great destiny and obligation." (Conference Report, April 1940)
I am trying to evaluate my skill sets; trying to understand why I am different from you; trying to fulfill my unique purpose. It is humbling. It is enlightening. It is liberating.
I am trying to drown out the deafening beat of this worldly world, trying to align my step with my own drummer. So if I seem to be losing pace with what is popular or trendy or current, well, it is because maybe that just isn't the beat I am stepping to, nor the music I am hearing. I always knew I was a little odd.
Yesterday I was feeling left out. My husband attended a 4 hour meeting, being taught with other bishops in the area, at the feet of a modern-day Apostle. That is a Capital "A" Apostle. One of the men I admire most. Elder David A. Bednar
Then later that evening my daughter Miranda was able to attend a special conference given by Elder Bednar for the Young Single Adults in the Region. Lucky girl!
Today, in one of those unexpected turns of blessings from heaven, I also had the overwhelming opportunity to be in the presence of one of the Apostles of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Just before we were to begin preparing for the Sacrament by singing a hymn, there was some type of rustle in the hallway, to which the bishop (Brian) was called out for. He came back in with a look that only a wife can recognize as "Something BIG is up!" It was then announced that instead of having the Sacrament, we would just remain quietly in our seats for a few moments.
What?!
Being seated up front by the organ, I looked out at the congregation and saw the bewilderment to match my own on everyone's faces. I worried that something was seriously wrong. I wondered if we were in some type of lock-down. What could possibly be happening?
About five very long minutes later, the side door of the chapel opened. Our bishop and our Stake President, who just happened to be visiting our ward today, both stood and looked toward the doorway. In walked Elder Bednar, followed by our Area Seventy Elder Brinkerhoff.
Imagine the hush that came over the members of the Pringle Ward today. It was a most extraordinary event. The feelings are indescribable. The special spirit was palpable. Elder Bednar then spoke to us, bearing testimony of the reality of God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ. He gave his special witness as one of the Lord's Anointed, that the Savior truly lives and loves us. He pronounced an apostolic blessing upon all the children and youth in attendance that they would always remember the special feelings they were experiencing today and that a seed of faith was being planted in their hearts.
I recognize that this is probably a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I will never forget this beautiful September day when our Sacrament Meeting was blessed with a very special surprise guest.
I love the stories of the Book of Mormon. I love the dramatic parts, I love the heroic parts, I love the tender parts. Maybe I have finally grown up beyond the tales of "long ago (when) their fathers came from far across the sea, given this land if they lived righteously."
Now I love the doctrines found in this beautiful book. I love the lessons and the messages and the teachings that "speak of Christ, that rejoice in Christ...." They are the real reason to study the scriptures every day. This book possesses the power of God's word to touch us, lift us, teach us, inspire us. We can be better people by opening its pages and letting the light of the Gospel soak into our pores. It is no coincidence that our bodies crave the light that comes from the sun; our homesick spirits crave the Light that radiates from the Son of God, as we wander so far from our heavenly home. He hasn't left us in darkness, devoid of the warmth of his spirit and the light of his love. They are available to us everyday. It is as simple as turning on a light switch. The switch lies in opening the holy scriptures and coming to the Feast.
I had forgotten. This is how it usually is. But I had forgotten what it is like to be mostly alone. The company is gone. The Honeymooners are gone. I am left with an empty house and overflowing laundry hampers.
But, oh! What an amazing week I have had.
Last Thursday we picked up Jackie, Robert, Josalyn, and Evelyn from the airport. We traveled home to Salem where our dinner was mostly ready to go. (I love crockpots) My mother, sister Suzanne, and my nieces, Malia and Lauren, came to enjoy our dinner with us. We ate in the backyard. Perfect evening.
The following morning we arose early and went to the Portland Temple. This was a special preliminary visit, a precursor to the wedding to follow, as Erica entered the House of the Lord to receive a special endowment of blessings from the Savior. Such an amazing experience. What a delight to be able to share this time with one's child who has prepared herself, has kept herself unspotted from the world in order to enter in that holy place.
We returned to Salem that afternoon to make final preparations for the Reception. We met Derek's family at Copper Hill at 6:00pm and with their help we had everything ready for the party to start at 6:30pm. Talk about miracles....
What a wonderful event. It was delightful for me to greet all our friends that came to honor Erica and Derek. I loved it. And what a crowd! I thought we would have lots of leftovers. What was I thinking? Every delicious morsel was gone, except one tier of wedding cake which I selfishly held back so I could take it home. (Mother of the Bride's prerogative...)
After the whirlwind of a party, we quickly "un-decorated" then headed home with our huge load. Grateful for the chance to unwind, the family gathered to watch Erica and Derek open their lovely gifts. Fun times. Silly times. The first gift opened was a set of Elvis drinking glasses. Hmmmm.....what were we in for?
Saturday morning: SLEEP IN! That was on all agendas. What a blessing. Rumor got out that our daughter, Jackie, an Esthetician with skills, was in town and willing to remove stray hair. Believe me, more silliness!
At 1:00pm we gathered up everything needed for the rest of the day and drove to the Wedding luncheon at Macaroni Grill. Perfect. What a lovely, relaxing way to prepare for the next, most important part of our wedding weekend, THE WEDDING itself.
The Temple Marriage and Sealing Ceremony was the most sacred event I have ever witnessed. Many tears of joy were shed as a beautiful bride and a handsome groom commited to each other not just for this life together, but to spend all of eternity together as husband and wife. They were radiant. They were blessed with an abundance of the Holy Spirit to sanctify this significant event. I will never forget this special day with them.
After the ceremony, Erica and Derek came back "down to earth" and emerged from the temple, ready for whatever life would give them. They were met by loving family and many photographers. By this time on Saturday evening, the crowds had dissipated and we had the temple grounds to ourselves for all the pictures we could want.
After changing from their wedding clothes, they drove off together in their little red Toyota. A fitting end to a perfect weekend. A fitting beginning for the rest of their lives.
Everyone is familiar with that catchy little jingle selling chocolate covered ice cream bars. I didn't realize they only began selling nationally in 1982. Seems like they have been around longer than that.
It is a brilliant campaign scheme, which they have stuck with because it is so successful. Suddenly it elevates their product to something worthy of extraordinary effort, not merely the tossing in of a few quarters for a little treat. Through the years there have been commercials showing people doing silly, even outrageous things just for the privilege of a few bites of ice cream.
Last Sunday evening in my backyard, the bishop of our ward had a Youth Fireside. He proposed this question to his little flock, "What would you do for a Klondike bar?" He listened to a few offers, then decided the winner must be the little gal willing to do a back hand spring right there in front of everyone.
Now he had their attention. He continued by reminding them that the world beckons with the same type of temptations that likewise come at a price. Problems arise when we are willing to pay too high of a price for something with fleeting or relatively no value at all.
What would you do for your 15 minutes of fame? What would you do for a spot in the "In" crowd? What would you do to hold onto a boyfriend? or for a few moments of drug-induced escape?
Too often we are short sighted, seeing only the immediacy of gratification rather than the lasting consequences for poor decisions.
Eternal Perspective is the key. I find we must ask ourselves frequently if the choices we are making are jeopardizing our eternal reward. What really is the price attached to our day to day decisions? Are we willing to sell our birthright, as Esau did, for a Klondike bar, I mean a "mess of pottage?"
Several years ago I stumbled upon a declaration. I don't know who to attribute it to, but it has inspired me; has strengthened me; has given me the resolve and dedication to stand by the things I know to be true, even at the sacrifice of the fleeting pleasures the world offers. May I share it with you?
It may mean I won't be cool. It may mean I won't be popular, or the life of the party. That's okay. Sometimes those things come at much too high of a cost.
Last Friday I took a step backwards in time. At least that is what it felt like. And I found a circle of friends which I would have wanted to be apart of. I would have hung around their perimeter until they would have had to invite me to join them. I saw where they lived; where they read, studied, and wrote. I saw where they pondered and communed with nature. And finally, I saw where they were laid to rest; all within yards of each other, in a peaceful spot on one of the hills of Sleepy Hollow Cemetery.
You see, I was in Transcendental Central, to borrow a term coined by my daughter, Miranda. I was in Concord, Massachusetts, the lovely little tranquil spot outside the bustle of Boston; the place where the Revolutionary War began, where first rang the shot heard round the world. Historians delight in the significance of this important place. Literaries delight in its significance as the birthplace of the Trancendentalist Movement.
I went to Walden Pond. I really did. And it was as peaceful and beautiful and inspiring as Thoreau said it was. I walked the pathway he regularly took from the pond to his little shack. I saw the replica shack that has been built in the spot of the original. I sat on his doorstep, and looked out to see the things he saw.
I'm pretty sure he would not have looked favorably upon the extensive parking lot, the gift shop, or the bikini-clad swimmers in his pond. But they didn't really detract too much from the spirit of the place.
The real monuments to their greatness don't reside on the shady hill of Sleepy Hollow. They rest on the bookshelves of homes and libraries all over the world. Their lasting impact can be felt as one explores their revolutionary thought. They believed religion can be a personal thing, with spirit touching spirit. They were missing a few critical pieces of truth which their contemporary, Joseph Smith, just a state away in New York, was restoring to the world. I believe they were ready to hear and would have been receptive to the restored Truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and would have welcomed Joseph into their circle too.
