LIVE AND LEARN

Perfectionism

2012-02-11T05:30:00.001-07:00

Too often, in my quest for perfection, I lose sight of reality. I lose sight of the very real fact that mortality is neither designed, nor meant for perfection. Life is most certainly a learning, growing process. One that has improvement as it's objective, but, for me, at least, the failure to measure up to some real or imagined standard has been quite incapacitating. My quest for perfection, quite often, overwhelms and then shuts me down. How can that be what God had in mind?

As you can see, I'm exploring my own weakness here. Not pointing fingers.

I think I understand the problem - in my head, but making that knowledge part of my ongoing behavior is a real struggle.

I understand that:

.... if men come unto me (God) 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.
(Ether 12:27)

God intended for us to be imperfect beings with weakness. Mortality with its imperfection is a gift. It is God who does the strengthening.

I understand that as Moroni implies in that scripture, growing strong and overcoming that weakness is intended as a principal part of the process.

Therefore I would that ye should be perfect even as I, or your Father who is in heaven is perfect.
(3 Nephi 12:48)

I even think I get that too often I put the cart before the horse in that, acknowledging the gap between my current ability and my lofty goal of perfection; I strive to strengthen myself rather than seeking to humble myself as Moroni admonished. He knew something that I tend overlook; the fact that long before I can be perfect in and of myself, I must be perfected in Christ. Perfection can be achieved in no other way.

Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness; and if ye shall deny yourselves of all ungodliness, and love God with all your might, mind and strength, then is his grace sufficient for you, that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ; and if by the grace of God ye are perfect in Christ, ye can in nowise deny the power of God.

And again, if ye by the grace of God are perfect in Christ, and deny not his power, then are ye sanctified in Christ by the grace of God, through the shedding of the blood of Christ, which is in the covenant of the Father unto the remission of your sins, that ye become holy, without spot.
(Moroni 10:32, 33)

Clearly I must, through humility and through Grace, be first perfected in Christ, as provided by the Infinite Atonement, before I can ever hope for the power to actually live perfectly. Perfection is all about Jesus, and the ability to live perfectly comes only in and through Him; if I choose to allow that most wonderful process to take place. Seeking to perfect myself in any other way is utterly doomed to failure.

So, I suppose that what incapacitates me in my quest for perfection is my lack of humility. I suspect, however, that there is another factor. I think I have an unhealthy fear of making mistakes. Partially born of impatience, but mostly born of pride; I don't want to appear anything less than perfect. I want to get it right - right now!

When I was a boy my sisters took piano lessons. I would flee the house when they practiced. I couldn't bear to hear the same old songs and sour notes over and over again. Later, when I had daughters of my own, I loved hearing them practice. The sour notes didn't bother me for I knew they were a necessary part of the growth process. No one becomes a great pianist without making sour notes. And even when they master a piece and no longer make mistakes, the instructor advances them to a more difficult piece and the sour notes begin again. I think the Savior feels the same way about my life. Sure I'm going to make mistakes, they are a requirement of growth. My tendency, though, is to project my former reaction onto Him rather than my latter. Clearly that doesn't make sense.

Recently, I watched a video which took my piano lessons metaphor to a whole new level. In it Brother Brad Wilcox pointed out the power of the Atonement in the process. He explained that a mother pays for the piano lessons. A debt that cannot really be repaid. In doing so she enables her child to learn and grow at the keyboard. The child can only take advantage of the gift if she practices and actually takes the lessons. Likewise, Jesus paid for our opportunity to learn and grow and eventually become perfect. We cannot repay Him, we can only do our best to take full advantage of this great Gift.

So, here we are to my problem. I am so intent on being perfect, so impatient with the process and so pridefully embarrassed by my "sour notes" that I tend to abandon the key board of life and do nothing. Certainly, that is not what God had in mind. It becomes very apparent now, why pride is such an enormous problem. Clearly the difference between perfection and perfectionism is pride. For me the greatest promise, then, is:

28 And inasmuch as they were humble they might be made strong, and blessed from on high, and receive knowledge from time to time. (Doctrine and Covenants 1:28)

Wow! Here is the great advantage that comes of journaling (examining a problem on paper) - a new discovery!

In this context humility means joyfully sitting at the keyboard of life and playing my heart out - mistakes and all! Joyfully taking full advantage of the price Jesus paid that I might do so. Quite often even playing a duet with Him!

Robert Fulghum once reported a visit to a Kindergarten Class in which everyone thought of himself as a singer, dancer, athlete, artist and scholar. He then visited a College Class in which no one felt inclined to make such claims. Was pride the difference? Had fear of humiliation kept them from humility? Is this what is meant by the admonition to become as a little child?

Leonard Cohen wrote a song whose chorus inspires me:

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

I want to ring my bells! I hope you'll overlook my mistakes and I want to do the same for you. There isn't time to shut down and tremble for fear of imperfection or we'll just be shutting out the light. And, we'll hardly progress toward that perfect state we seek.

Book Re-Review - Still Life by Louise Penny

2012-01-26T12:07:00.003-07:00

I learn better from novels than from treatises of any sort. More is said, in fewer words in a novel. As I identify with the characters and their problems and choices I find out where my own weaknesses and strengths lie. I discover my humanity in a much more poignant way. While this is true of most fiction, it is especially true when reading Louise Penny. As this is the case and as I have a lot to learn about myself and my motives; I've decided to re-read Louise's Chief Inspector Gamache series.

Still Life is about how we tend to stagnate and then calcify in our habits and circumstances. About how we get ourselves into traps and how we have difficulty escaping them. It is about the lies we tell ourselves in order to continue in our self-deception. And it is about how utterly emancipating honesty can be in our relationship with ourselves and others.

I didn't discover Louise's talent for teaching me of my own vulnerabilities until the last few of her series. I wondered if the gift was embedded in the earlier ones as well and was actually surprised to revisit her first and discover and then plumb it's profound depths.

I remember the first time I read this I had a sense that the author knew me. It was comforting to sit with her work. As I read further into her work, I felt more and more that, "Here is a writer who gets me!" It wasn't until I read this one again that I realized that her flawed characters were a better reflection of my own character, than her protagonists were. I like the mix, for I dearly long to be like the healthy ones and see, in her examination of all their hearts that, I can move from one state to the other.

I have a shelf full of self-help books, which I think I'll toss. Louise Penny has become my own personal therapist. And while that my sound miserable (sort of like going to the Dentist) it is not! It is a joyous, enlightening, thrilling ride! Reading this book has been like going over the spillway after drifting stagnantly on the calm lake, way too long. How she does this in a cozy mystery is beyond me, but that too is a talent I long to imitate. There is nothing so powerful as a story. What a story this is!

Free To Choose

2012-01-23T12:49:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, someone noted the continuing problem of losing youth to inactivity in the Church. He observed age 14 to be the critical point. I have noticed this too. 14 is not an arbitrary age any more than 8 is arbitrary when considering the age of accountability.

In my work with troubled youth the age of 14 commonly stands out as the age of rebellion. While there are younger exceptions, there are few older. Oh, there are older rebels, but the vast majority rebelled at 14. I believe the younger exceptions stem from accentuated abuse most of the time. Occasionally, parents ask me how they can avoid these early teen pit-falls to which I always respond, "Your job is to teach them how to make healthy, correct, even righteous choices, and, to prepare them to have full reign to make those choices by the time they reach 14." Then I advise them to prepare themselves to actually give full reign to their children at that time. That's the hardest part. Few accept my counsel. Few have prepared their youth, to their own satisfaction, for the challenge of such personal responsibility.

Commonly, they ask, "What if I don't give them their freedom?" To which I reply, "Then they'll just take it anyway." 14 is the age at which God intended His sons and daughters to begin to choose the direction of their own personal lives. Parental efforts to restrict those choices will quite naturally be met with rebellion.

Another common question is, "What if I haven't adequately prepared them? Is it too late?" My answer is always, "No!" It is never too late. One of the things we all need to realize is that there are no perfect parents. As a result no child is 100%, fully prepared at age 14. We all know that, and you'll, given the chance, notice that the kids do too! Remember 14 is not the age to be kicking kids out of the house. They still need a safety net and you, Mom and Dad, are it. If your children feel free to make their own choices, you will find them frequently seeking advice and assurance about the choices they are making. If they feel no such freedom, you will be the last persons they will seek for counsel.

Let me give you the classic example: At age 14, young Joseph Smith had a choice to make, "Which church should I join?" How many of us would be willing to offer such a choice to one of our own 14 year olds? It is clear that Joseph felt free to make such a choice. Did he feel adequate for the task? Clearly he did not. But he had been well schooled in how to make such choices and given the freedom, he sought the Lord for guidance. 14 year olds are serious about things. They are earnest about life and their futures. They don't want to blow it. If, like young Joseph, they have been taught that God cares about them and will joyfully entertain and respond to such questions, they are unlikely to make big decisions without first consulting with their Heavenly Father.

You will also notice that after, Joseph received his glorious answer from the Heavens, he still, willingly sought the counsel of his parents to affirm that he was on track. I don't think Joseph Smith was all that unusual as 14 year olds go. At least he doesn't appear to be as unusual as his parents were.

I realize these are scary times and our natural instinct is to shelter and nurture. Too, often though, over-responding to that instinct results in smothering, rather than sheltering. Remember we, and our children, are called to be in the world, but not of it. The world is intended to give us experience, which must always be associated with agency, or the good work of the Lord in sending us here will be wasted.

Wild animals tend to flee rather than fight, but when cornered, and fleeing is no longer an option, fight they will. 14 year olds are no different. If they find themselves in a situation without other options, fight they will. Watch carefully, that you do not press them into such a corner. Watch carefully, for times when they may foolishly paint themselves into such corners. Be sure to give them a way to escape.

Psalms 124:7

7 Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers: the snare is broken, and we are

escaped

If Jesus is willing to break our snares, perhaps we should be prepared to do the same for our youth who occasionally become ensnared. Even Joseph Smith fouled up a time or two as the learned and grew.

As these principles apply to parents, so they also apply to Church Leaders and Teachers, who occasionally apply Satan's manipulative arts and also reap the rebellion of our fledgling children. Remember that agency is theirs as a God given possession, the stealing of which is evil and will most certainly satisfy Satan's objective for both you and the child.

As a litmus test you might consider that the number one symptom of the manipulator is frustration and the primary symptom of the manipulatee is rebellion. If you are experiencing frustration or rebellion in your relationship with your 14 year old, please step back a little and let him out his corner, where he can make a more healthy choice.

I believe we can do this and that the result will be far fewer youth lost to forbidden paths than we are experiencing now.

Book Review - The Snow Angel by Glenn Beck

2012-01-19T11:08:00.000-07:00

What a heart warming story. I liked this one even better than The Christmas Sweater. A story of abuse, fear, devotion, understanding, loyalty, forgiveness and love, The Snow Angel was a great book with which to start the new year. Thank you John and Jen for and excellent Christmas present.

For me, the jury is still out regarding Beck's politics, but his fiction is so deep, heart-felt and enlightening that I have fully embraced it. One of the things that most greatly intrigued me about this book is the narrative from Mitch's point of view. Mitch has Alzheimer's and is at a level of deep confusion. While we can only imagine what goes on in such a misfiring brain, I think Beck has captured it in his deep, empathic first person narrative. Having worked closely with an Alzheimer's patient over the past few years, I really appreciated the perspective.

He also has an enlightening perspective of abuse in families. Dysfunction is common in today's world, as is it's denial. Also common though, are angels who love, nurture and rescue. What a tribute to them this book is. They are all around each of us. How reluctant we are to let them offer the healing and redemption they bring.

Five Stars!

Today My Nephew, Davis, Enters the MTC

2012-01-11T11:32:00.001-07:00

Elder Rasmussen enters the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah today. He will be learning Spanish in preparation for service in The Dominican Republic Santo Domingo West Mission. What excitement we've experienced as our family has anticipated his call.

He spoke in Sacrament Meeting on January 1st. His talk was short, sweet and to the point. I'd do well to simply post it here. Trouble is, I haven't got a copy. What he taught us on that day has had a profound effect on me and my attitude toward life and it's experiences. Davis spoke of having some concern about the adequacy of his preparation to be a missionary. As this anxiety built, he very wisely turned to his Father in Heaven, who led him to seek counsel from the scriptures. There, he discovered a marvelous principle. While reading the account of Noah, who built the ark, Davis came to realize that of all the qualifications Noah had in preparation for his call, ark building wasn't one of them. Noah was prepared (and preparing) to accept the call but his preparation was that of faith, trust, obedience, willingness and diligence - not craftsmanship.

So it is with Davis. He doesn't speak Spanish. He doesn't understand all that will be required of him. He is not at expert missionary. Those are not the qualifications God is seeking of him. His qualifications, like Noah's are related to his personal relationship with God and his willingness to do as God requires. If he continues to trust and manifest willingness, God will qualify him for the task that lies ahead.

This sweet principle inspires me. How often have I hesitated because I didn't feel qualified to serve the Lord. How often have I mistakenly supposed that I could not do as the Lord commanded. It has been a week and a half since that short sweet talk spoke volumes to my soul. Thank you Davis for your fine preparation and for beginning from day one to teach and inspire those you are chosen to bless.

Kristi and Ronnie Are Married!

2011-12-21T20:11:00.002-07:00

Kristi and Ronnie preparing to "feed" each other wedding/birthday cake.

Test

2011-12-21T19:55:00.000-07:00

Test
Sent from my iPhone

Back At My Desk

2011-11-29T19:53:00.003-07:00

Well, I'm back a my desk for the first time in forever. Just for a test turn. Sweetie spoiled me with a classy new Smart Phone and I'm learning how to post on the fly. Hopefully, I'll be posting more often this way. Of course I won't be nearly as verbose as I'm the world's slowest texter.

So Grateful!

2011-11-02T12:21:00.000-06:00

I haven't posted in a long long time. I've been busier that a one legged man in a butt-kicking contest. And in the end, it was I who needed, and got, the butt-kicking.

My friend Clair often says that, "Life is a series of lessons, which get repeated until they are learned."

I have had lots of experience with repeated lessons. In fact on repeated occasions I have taken a day off, fasted and prayed, retired to the wilderness, and prayed mightily for what I needed to learn. Always I would return with an epiphany! The last time, when I revealed my "newly discovered" answer to Sweetie, she observed that it was the same revelation I received last time and the two or three times before that. To put it gently, I'm a slow learner.

Always the answer has been. "Forget about yourself and your problems and serve the Lord by serving others." Pretty simple. Pretty amazing how Satan uses life's circumstances to turn our concerns inward, again.

Back in August, I had another of my epiphanies and, of course, it was essentially the same discovery I always get. At that time I realized that while I was financially poor and in difficult circumstances (lacking an adequate job to pay the bills and dig myself out of the financial pit I've digged for myself) I was, filthy rich with free time! That was quite a realization. Especially, when, in evaluation, I saw how much I was wasting. That morning I marched out the door with a hope of finding someone who could make better use of my time than I had been. I didn't make it far. I found a couple around the corner unloading a number of 12 foot 2X6's from their pickup. The boards seemed bigger than they were. He's 88 years old by the way. I stopped to help and asked what they were up to.

"Building a shed." was their reply.

"Really?!"

"Yup, got bored and needed a project." he said, matter of factly.

Now his ambition did out strip his capability a little and that was where I came in. Over the next few weeks these friends and I built a mighty fine shed. 12' X 10' X 8' with a gabled roof built with trusses my friend made himself. I couldn't have been more happy than I was during those three weeks. Good companionship! Strengthened friendship! Rich rewards! A fine education! I learned a lot. A lot about myself and how utterly selfish I had become. During that time there were other opportunities to serve beyond this one and I found myself relishing the privilege.

Now my personal concerns seemed to have shifted. No longer was I praying for a solution to my financial woes; but rather I was concerned that when I did find a job that I'd be prevented from having such blessed time to focus on others. I had found such joy that I didn't want to lose it, ever.

It was about this time that an old friend called to suggest I apply for a job which had just opened up. One I had never considered. I did apply. And was hired on the spot! And was put right to work! And miracle of miracles, my income has doubled. Over night!

I've become a bus driver. I work for Wilkins Bus Lines and make two trips to Bonanza, carrying miners, each week day. The first run is from 3:15 to 6:15 in the morning and the second, from 1:15 to 4:15 in the afternoon. The pay is great and the job is fun. I drive the road I drove most of my UPS career. The schedule doesn't interrupt any of my current projects and leaves me plenty of time to be involved in the lives of others around me. I could not conceive of a more "tailor made" opportunity. It fulfills my needs, hopes and dreams perfectly. As though Someone actually cared about an obscure bit of organic matter like me.

Now, this is not all. I've mentioned that I've spent the past 14 months caring for an Alzheimer's patient who lives across the street. His wife needed my help so she could bring him home from the Care Center. She has paid me handsomely for the service, especially considering the small amount of time it takes to change and turn him in his bed. Her generosity has been such a blessing and I am overwhelmed that she considered me a blessing in her life, for I can only see it the other way around. We never considered that he would live this many months and both of us quietly harbored some anxiety about it.

I wondered how long we could make in financially on the income from this very part-time job. Still, I was determined to stick it out because I had committed to it for the duration.

She worried about running out of money to pay me, but needed my help and also knew that I was in great need of the income.

Out of concern for each other, we never really expressed our concerns to one another. Then along came this job opportunity. The bus schedule didn't interfere with the care schedule, so with her permission, I accepted the job. It was then that I was impressed to tell her that I no longer needed to be paid for my service. I had told her initially that I would only accept such money as I absolutely needed and that now I don't need any. We both wept as she explained that she had been forced to consider letting me go as she'd run out of funds to continue paying me. I still get to serve. She still has the help she needs. God has found us both another solution.

Now, this also meant, one month of difficult money problems at my house. Then, along came an additional bus driving opportunity. It pays well. Is temporary. Allows me to do both routes. Problem solved. I started working on October 20 and by the end of the month had made nearly a full month's wages. With God, no problem falls through the cracks.

Now, I don't, in any way deserve such wonderful gifts from God. They have not come to me and my family because we are good, but because He is good. The only hang up has been my failure to recognize that. An important lesson, from Jesus himself, "... there is none good, but God."

Comfort and Assurance

2011-10-03T07:53:00.005-06:00

My youngest had a stuffed Bunny she loved. For years she carried it everywhere and, of course, slept with it at night. As she grew older she grew to a point where she could leave Bunny behind when she went out to play. She and her friends spent hours outdoors in the summer, imagining and the enacting wonderful adventures. Every hour or so, though, she would come scurrying into the house, grab her Bunny and hold it to her face. Then she would close her eyes and draw a deep assuring breath through the fabric of her pal. After just a moment of this, Bunny was tossed lovingly back onto the couch and Katie was off for more fun and adventure.

That is rather how I feel about General Conference. We Latter-day Saints live lives full of joy and adventure as we strive to build the kingdom in our families and communities. We are busy and are about the work of the Lord. He is with us and sustains us by His Holy Spirit and by our companionship with our fellow laborers. It is tiring, but not tiresome work. It is full of joy and sometimes disappointment. We might carry on okay without conference, but what joy and comfort we gain as we come scurrying in from all over the globe to pause and draw a deep breath assurance, faith and testimony. And, then go rushing back out into the world, to love and enjoy God's children all over again!

WIN A FREE AUDIO BOOK COPY OF LOUISE PENNY'S NEWEST BLOCKBUSTER - A TRICK OF THE LIGHT

2011-09-15T11:34:00.000-06:00

A Trick of the Light by Louise Penny is also available in audio from McMillan Audio and you can win a copy of your own!

This latest in the Chief Inspector Gamache series is, in my opinion, Penny's best work yet and has, just in a week, climbed to number four on the The New York Times Best Seller list!

I'm giving away a copy here on my blog. All you have to do is comment on my review of the book here, plus, you must become a Follower of my blog. You can follow me by becoming an email follower and/or, by joining my blog through Google Friend Connect. Both are secure and your information will be used for no other purpose. You can find both options at the top of the left column on my blog. Also, if you friend me on Facebook and post a link to the contest on your wall, you will get your name entered two additional times! Good luck!

I will hold a drawing on the 1st of October 2011 and notify the winner personally and also post their name on the blog.

Here is an audio excerpt from the book -

Book Review - A Trick Of The Light by Louise Penny

2011-09-05T23:44:00.005-06:00

Once again Louse Penny blows my mind with a smash hit! A Trick of the Light, her seventh in the Chief Inspector Gamache series, has surprised and astonished me.

After seven volumes of her novels, plus a near daily reading of her very candid and personal blog, I feel like I know Louse Penny pretty well. We've even enjoyed some personal correspondence. Still, the depth and breadth of her imagination, coupled with the richness of her humanity, leave me stunned every time I finish and reluctantly close one of her books.

I don't spoil novels by even dropping hints about their contents. This time, though, I'm tempted. There is so much I would like to tell you. So much I'd like to entice you with. As always, I'd like to suggest you go back to the beginning and start with Still Life. This series is best enjoyed in order. I know lots of people who've read one or two out of order and say they stand alone just fine. It may seem so, lacking the big picture. But the series is becoming more and more, for me, all about the big picture. About my own big picture. As if Louse knew me as well as I think I know her.

Now, as I am a Mormon, and as I have a mostly Mormon audience on LIVE AND LEARN; it has come time to talk about the elephant in the room. This volume is quite abundant in its use of the F-Bomb. Perhaps I should address this issue separately, but this is the time it matters most for me, so shoulds aside, I'm going to address it now.

I don't like that word. It curdles my blood. I wish it never existed. I rejoice that nothing worse seems to be emerging in it's wake; but as its use becomes ever more common I don't think I'll ever be resigned to hearing or reading it. I could, and previously have written diatribes about the crude, base, degrading ignorance it represents.

That said, I still recommend this book. Please be patient and let me tell you why. There is a reason people use such vile language, perhaps several. Usually, it is associated with a desperation to be heard. More and more humanity is crying out for relevance and meaning. More and more, that desperation has invaded mainstream lives. When we were in Montreal, a tour guide informed us of the hundreds of empty churches in that once devout city. It is happening everywhere. People have cut their moorings and in many cases justifiably so. Subsequent generations have often never known the blessing of being tied to something stable, reliable. Myriads are adrift, frustrated, and increasingly desperate for safe harbor, anchorage.

Is it any wonder that desperate to be heard, frustrated, they turn to language that calls attention to their plight? In my work with fellow addicts I encounter such desperation on a regular basis. My heart is filled with compassion for them. The more I listen, really listen to their hearts, the less desperate they become to be heard and the less frequently they lash out with such language. They are hurting and like the woman in labor, who often says things she would ordinarily not say; I feel to excuse them.

I don't like the F-word, but today it has new meaning for me. It is no longer the expletive of a scum bag, but a cry for help. A plea for compassion; which all to often is met with rejection that compounds the agony of the drifting soul who uses it.

Please don't be tempted to judge Louise Penny for sharing, in a frank and poignant way, what I am so feebly trying to express. I guess she could soft petal the desperation, loneliness and emptiness of which this word is so common a symptom, by somehow toning it down; but then, I for one, would not have learned the lesson.

Louise, herself, is not so crass, nor is Chief Inspector Gamache. I take comfort in that. It gives me comfort that neither she nor her protagonist are adrift and that their example and centeredness are so juxtaposed to the other that we can see, and so, want what they have.

There is a difference between prudence and prudishness. If you choose the former, you will love this book (The previous volumes are not nearly so full of such language. This one is. For a reason.) If you choose the latter, you won't benefit from the story either, probably.

A Trick Of The Light is about contrasts, about opposition, about light amid darkness. If you refuse to consider the darkness, you'll hardly appreciate the light.

A Trick Of The Light is about honesty, about the truths and lies we tell ourselves, and others. It is about truth's effect on relationships. Truth is I am better and more honest with myself for having read this important book.

Way to go Louise. A Trick of the Light is your best yet. Bury Your Dead is still my favorite. But this one is certainly your best.

Five glorious Stars

My review of Louise Penny's Bury Your Dead.

Book Review - The Miracle of Freedom - 7 Tipping Points that Saved the World by Chris and Ted Stewart

2011-09-02T13:12:00.002-06:00

Seldom has a book held such a soul deep captivity on my attention as Miracle of Freedom - Seven Tipping Points that Saved the World!

It is so easy to take the liberty we enjoy for granted; or it has been. It is not so easy any longer. I will always cherish the journey this book took me through to arrive at my current and profound appreciation for what we've been so freely given.

Of the 110 or so billion people who have lived on this planet only about four percent have lived under any privilege resembling the freedom we currently enjoy. The rest, the great majority, have languished under oppression so appalling as to make me wonder how it could possibly be. How could human beings be so cruel, thoughtless, greedy? Speaking of the privileged and abusive few. Or, how could the masses be so passive, in their squalor, deprivation and subjection? Then you are forced to realize that for millennia, no one knew of or thought of life any other way.

I was amazed at how Stewart and Stewart made such a profound case for such obscure moments in world history. I was amazed at how few were the brave souls who stood against oppression to give us what we now enjoy. Clearly, the blessing of liberty was not the norm. Clearly, it took thousands of years to prepare the earth for what we currently seem to take for granted. Certainly, the hand of God was in those pivotal moments when, against overwhelming odds, a few brave men and women stood against forces that would have prevented progress toward this glorious age of abundance and emancipation.

This book is an interesting read; full of stories, miracles, inspiration and awe. I could hardly put it down. It filled my heart with gratitude and hope; while it reminded me how fragile and temporary our freedom might be, should we lose track of its value and lose courage for the constant battle that is required to maintain it. Left to itself, the natural tendency is toward decay and so it is with individual liberty.

I will never again look at my blessed freedom with such careless disregard. The depth of my gratitude, as I write this, amazes me. How could one little book make such a profound difference?

Somehow, as I read the book I realized that freedom doesn't emerge on a national or global scale before it emerges in individual lives and hearts. Many of those to whom we owe so much had personally climbed out of the captivity of ignorance, fear, doubt, excess and depravity long before they gave that gift to their fellow citizens. So it must also be, with us.

Five Stars!

Surrender

2011-08-25T04:38:00.004-06:00

As usual, I am up in the night. That's right.

I don't know anybody who tries harder than I do, with less results. Or, so I've been telling myself lately. My frustration level has been through the roof. I'd better not bore you with the details. Suffice it to say that lately, no, for as long as I can remember, every thing I touch seems to turn to crap. It seems like I have the anti-Midas touch.

I subscribe to the notion that if you find yourself in a hole the best thing to do is quit digging. I have have made Herculean efforts to do that. Still, it seems the hole is digging itself. It's as if all my previous digging created some sort of inertia that has become self perpetuating.

My pit of bondage keeps growing, exponentially.

Tonight I found myself complaining that my belief in Mosiah 7:33 has become sorely shaken. The promise of relief from bondage was offered if I would turn to the Lord with full purpose of heart and serve Him will all diligence of mind. I have accepted that it must come on the Lord's time table and in His own way. I had hoped that my burdens might be lightened in the interim; but they only seem to get heavier. So I beat myself up for having something less that full purpose of heart, something less than all diligence of mind. Having lost my mind, its a wonder I can apply any diligence at all.

I went back and reviewed my service of the past several months. I also examined my faithfulness and examples of my application of trust. Both seemed to fall into the Second Mile category. So why am I still sinking deeper into this pit of bondage and despair?

With no small measure of gnashed teeth and clenched fists, I seethed, "If I could sweat all the sweat, and cry all the tears, and bleed all the blood in the world, it still wouldn't be good enough, would it!"

To which the Spirit quietly replied, "That's right."

Movie Review - Lark Rise To Candleford

2011-08-23T23:43:00.001-06:00

I've watched a lot of television my 61 years, and never have I enjoyed a program so much as BBC's Lark Rise To Candleford. Adapted from Flora Thompson's trilogy by the same name, (which I am currently reading by the way) the series, in four seasons, depicts rural life in a village and neighboring hamlet of Oxfordshire, England of the late 19th Century.

This program demonstrates the obvious advantage of series television, for the development and history of each character can hardly be so well addressed in any shorter form of video entertainment. Each character is rich in purpose, meaning, individuality and charm, and I loved them, every one.

The stories were heart warming, inspirational, credible and informative. It was indeed a different time and place. One which we would all do well to experience and appreciate. Even in the late 1800's change was causing difficult problems and while different than the troublesome changes we are experiencing, much might be gained if we were to consider them from Candleford's distant perspective.

We all have wonderful roots in the working classes of our past. It has done my heart good to gain a greater appreciation for what it is they did, that we might so easily ride upon their shoulders. But, lest you think this a dreary proposition, don't be dissuaded, the charm, good cheer, courage and wisdom of these workers of the land are truly inspirational and often downright hilarious.

The casting was superb. I cannot imagine a single character better cast by someone else. The stories, festivals, culture and times literally came alive in every episode.

We got them through Netflix and felt it was a bargain. We are hoping the kids might get together and give us the series to own, perhaps for Christmas. We expect to watch it again and again!

Five enthusiastic Stars

The Interloper - Chapter One

2011-08-23T10:37:00.008-06:00

There he is again, creeping through my subconscious. Shadowy, filmy, lying opposite me in my bed. Why is it he instead of Sweetie? I reach, but he is gone. I get up to find her at the computer, weary, but wide awake. I wander back to bed to find it empty. I crawl in and slip away from awareness. Later, turning, I sense warmth beside me. Startled, I strain to see in the ambient light, and relax; it is she, not he. I close my eyes and it seems I see better than before. There in the semi-darkness I see his shadow slip down the hall, or do I?. Up, I search the house. Nothing is amiss. I have to pee and waking, I climb out of bed with a feeling of dread. I can't go back to sleep so I read in hopes drowsiness will return before dawn.

I fall asleep in the recliner, covered, cozy. Later, my back stiff, I move to my bed and find him lying beside her. I reach for the bat I keep behind the bedroom door but turning back he is gone. It has happened so many times before, I shake it off and climb beneath the covers and warm my cold feet near her warm ones. Arising, I find the dishes done and suppose Sweetie has done them in the night.

The church bells are ringing, it is seven o'clock, better get up. I am surprised to find myself in the recliner, though I remember coming down to read. My heart is sick and my muscles ache. I walk to the kitchen. Somehow, I am surprised the dishes need washing. Something's not right? Of course they're not done, we left them that way when we went to bed. I wish I could go back to bed.

_____

I've had this recurring dream. Not quite a nightmare, but very nearly. For years, I only remembered having had it previously, while dreaming it again. I would awaken disturbed and out of sorts, but with no conscious recollection of what had strummed the discordant string I felt still vibrating in my soul. I only know it reoccurred over time because when I finally awoke amid the dream, I knew what was going to transpire next; and it did.

Over time I have learned to observe my dreams from a vantage point near consciousness, but shy of wakefulness. I don't know what to call this state. It is rather like watching a movie. I can observe the dream and be an outside observer of the action and still remain in the darkened theater of sleep. I don't always get this privilege, but it happens often in my Interloper dream.

Sometimes I can even observe things in the wakeful world without waking myself. In the case of the Interloper, this ability only enhances the agony and wonder of it.

_____

I've named the Interloper. I call him Echo. Echo, because it's as if I never really see him, just the echo of him. I know echo refers to sound, but in my dream he is an echo of light. Its as though he's vanished just before I see him, but the vision is still somehow bouncing off the walls. Sometimes it is not the walls; but the faces of loved ones. It's as if there is a flash of delight in their eyes, that suddenly disappears at seeing me. I can't tell if I really saw it, or just hoped I did. Somehow, I sense a flicker of shock in them, like sucking a straw expecting soda and getting water. Shock, and disappointment. In my dream, it seems Echo precedes me everywhere I go. And disappointment follows.

Book Review - The Seven Wonders That Will Change Your Life by Glenn Beck and Keith Ablow, MD

2011-08-20T07:48:00.006-06:00

I have not been a huge Glenn Beck fan. I don't watch much broadcast TV and so I haven't watched his show ever. I've seen a few clips on YouTube and liked them. The consequence is that I'd never heard of this book.

A couple of weeks ago Sweetie's cousin, Duane came for a visit. He was carrying the book and shared a metaphor from it with me. Something about following bread crumbs. The bread crumbs notion really struck me and seemed to be an answer to my most current prayers and gave me insight into my most current frustrations.

Essentially, the book is about change. Beck tells the story of his recovery from alcoholism and consequently, his meteoric rise to fame, fortune and remarkably settled happiness. He tells it in a most insightful and candid way. Interspersed with that story lie chapters by Dr. Ablow, who gives wonderful insight into what has and is transpiring in Beck's recovery story.

Glenn Beck and I both have experienced recovery through the 12 Step Model. The book is full of clear hints of AA's influence. What I have recently struggled with is that, for me, the 12 Steps have been helpful in accomplishing what I don't want to be, I just couldn't get past that to what I do want to be, beyond sober.

For that, for my quest toward a healthy, happy, productive future, The Seven Wonders That Will Change Your Life has hit the nail right on the head! Years of addiction have kept me from my potential in real and painful ways. I have not fully discovered who I am and what I am meant to accomplish in this life. When I express this concern, my friends and family tend to play it down with lists of my accomplishments, trying to cheer me by reminding me of this or that good in my past. While their intentions are great and appreciated, they haven't been much help. I am 61 years old, and still often complain that I haven't got a clue as to what I want to be when I grow up. I have always lived my life by default; by dealing as best I could with the things that happened to me. Lehi says I was meant to act and not to be acted upon. This book is teaching me how to act!

Years and years of inappropriately dealt with baggage have caused me to give up on so many hopes and dreams that I have quit hoping and dreaming. All of my efforts were too intensely focused on doing battle with my addictive behavior that there was little energy for anything else. As addictive behaviors are only symptoms of deeper causes and conditions, I was expending all my energies addressing the wrong problems. The 12 Steps were magnificent at helping me discover, deal with and surrender the real problems, the baggage, if you will. But, where do I go from here? How do I get back my possibilities? How, at this age, do I move forward toward my full potential? How to I learn again to hope? To dream? These questions are all answered, so powerfully, in this wonderful book!

In AA it is often said, "When the student is ready, the teacher will come." I was ready. So ready. And sure enough, along came Duane, Glenn Beck and Dr. Ablow, right on time, with just the right answers. Not just them either. On the day I walked into the book store to find this gem I noticed a framed quotation hanging on the wall. It was from Elder Jeffrey R. Holland and said, "God is anxiously waiting to answer your prayers and to fulfill your dreams, but He can't if you don't pray and He can't if you don't dream." I bought it and am looking at it now, hanging on the wall of my study. I can hardly express what joy I have in having dreams again.

I have spent my life trying to appear to be authentic. It was all a lie. I did what I thought people would like me to do. I said, what I thought they wanted to hear. It was all a lie. This great little book is helping me past that, helping me find my own truth. Helping me to discover and live a congruent and authentic life. It is telling me how to find that truth, not between it's covers, but deep within my own heart and soul.

Five Stars

Guest Post - From Duane's Journal - Healing the Wounded Soul

2011-08-18T10:56:00.001-06:00

Following are some notes I took from a talk given to me by Myke Weber while I was out visiting he and Booklogged. There is much insight in these notes and I pray the Lord will cause these insights to sink deep into the marrow of my bones, as it were. Or, into the fibers of my spirit. May He bless me that the Holy Ghost will be more active in my life so that I may remember, and have brought to my memory these things. The CD was copyrighted in 2006. Here are the notes:

Healing the Wounded Soul
by Jack R. Christianson

    The speaker starts out by stating his intent in giving this talk. It is found in 1Ne. 6:4: “For the fulness of mine intent is that I may persuade men to come unto the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob and be saved.” This is also the intent of the Book of Mormon. However, we as Spiritual Beings having a mortal experience all deal with heartache, tragedy, we are downtrodden and we all acquire wounds to the heart. But we have a Savior and a Heavenly Father who are dedicated to “bring to pass the immortality and Eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39) and they have given us instructions as to how to avoid many of the vicissitudes of this life. “And now, my son s, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall” (Hel. 5:12).
    We all experience the hail and the storm and the wind in this mortal realm. It cannot be avoided. These are the things that help us, and sometimes force us, to dwell on how to do things better, how to have an easier life. But the answer is in the same verse, if you are built on the foundation of Christ, you will still have trials; but those trials shall not drag you down into endless wo (torment, depression, etc) or the gulf of endless misery. You shall be delivered from these things if you are built on the foundation of Christ.
    How do we build that foundation under us? He have to come to know Christ; not only know Him but to communicate with Him and receive answers to current challenges. We do have prophets in the church; but we all have the right to individual revelation and answers to our current situations.
    The speaker then shares with us an insight that was very powerful in his life. To set the scene for the scripture, Moroni had just appeared to Joseph Smith in his bedroom. After the revelation closed, the boy Joseph says, “I lay musing on the singularity of the scene, and marveling greatly at what had been told to me... when in the midst of my meditation, I suddenly discovered... (JS-Hist. 1:44)
    Musing is defined as “absorbed in thought; meditative.” It is much like pondering – the word used in Moroni 10:3-4; the promise of the Book of Mormon. Pondering is defined in the dictionary as “to consider something deeply and thoroughly; meditate.” So, Joseph Smith was mediating, pondering, thinking deeply, going over the revelation thoroughly when he “suddenly discovered.”
    Now what the Boy Prophet discovered was the light re-appearing in his room. But let’s look at the phrase a little differently, shall we?
    As we go through our lives and we are faced with how to proceed, or maybe a question of the right or wrong of a course of action. Or, maybe we have found ourselves in a position in life where making the wrong decision could be catastrophic or harmful. In other words, we really need the right answer. As we take our problem or question to the Lord, we should meditate upon the subject matter. As we think deeply, consider thoroughly, ponder and do our musing, we can “suddenly discover” the answer we were seeking. We can get answers to current questions about our current life challenges.
    But, in today’s world we face tremendous challenges when it comes to receiving revelation. We are being taught by the world – and it is not a coincidence – that we just don’t have time for pondering, meditating, or being still. We are caught up in the noise and hustle of everyday life and we just can’t seem to find the time. Yet, the Lord keeps knocking at our doors asking us to take time for Him. The real sad thing is that as many of us use our Ipods, talking on the phone, playing games or any myriad of other things so that we do not hear the Lord knocking.
    With knowing that all this would be facing us, the Lord spoke in D&C 101:16, “Therefore, let your hearts be comforted concerning Zion; for all flesh is in mine hands; be still and know that I am God.” Notice that it says to “be still” to “know that I am God.” What happens of we aren’t still?
    Elder Boyd K. Packer gave an address at the graduation of BYU Hawaii. He said, “These are sobering times. You are going out into a different world than when I was nineteen.” Pres. Packer continued, “You won’t survive spiritually unless you know how to receive revelation.” He followed these quotes with how Elijah of the old testament did not receive revelation in the thunder, the lightning, or the wind. Elijah received revelation “in the still small voice.” But the thing we often miss is that Elijah was also telling us is that the wind, the thunder, the lightning were all too loud for hearing the still small voice. We all need to take time out of our lives to find the quiet; because what are we going to miss if we do not find the quiet?
    Elder Packer continued by saying that in our lives today we are never quiet; we are always moving. He followed that by stating that Revelation comes in the quiet time. Elder Packer mentions the quiet of the morning before your brain is caught up with the things of the world. From personal experience and other statements by Men of God, I know sometimes that quiet time needs to be so quiet and separate from the world and it’s cares that you feel like you could almost leave this world and come nearer to God. Sometimes the voice is that still and that quiet. If you are not listening that intently, you might not hear the voice.
    The speaker then makes an extraordinary observation. He says, “Most misbehavior come from being wounded.” We have found that the statement, “Unfulfilled expectations bring negative results” is true. When you place your father’s persona onto God the expectations are not fulfilled. A wound is opened and the wound is made worse in the memory because of all the pain and insecurity associated with it. I know that usually the wound, the pain, the humiliation all go together; but they can happen by themselves and over time combine to cause deep and lasting wounds in the heart and Spirit of the children of God. It is the nature of this type of wound that it must be healed from the inside out. This particular type of healing takes time; so, you must be patient as the wound heals.
    That is why the speaker as a Stake President stopped asking people to buck up and change and started to ask things like, “What is it that has caused such deep wounds, pain and anguish that you would act out like this?” “What is missing from your life?’ “What needs do you have that are not being met?” It follows the point that Glenn Beck makes in his book “The Seven” when he asks you to look at someone who has wounded you and ask, “What happened in this person’s life to cause them to be like this?” I found a huge compassion when I asked what had happened in my own father’s life that had split his personality into seven different persons; one of which beat me up physically, mentally, and spiritually. This is the compassion that can come when we look not at the misbehavior but at the causes beneath the behavior. Once we are healed, we can act from the higher platform of our being healed; from the higher platform of our greater understanding of what the wounded need.
    How are these wounds healed? Let’s look at Jacob 2:7-8. Here Jacob is calling the men of the church to repentance for the way they have been treating their wives and children. “And also it grieveth me that I must use so much boldness of speech concerning you, before your wives and your children many of whose feelings are exceedingly tender and chaste and delicate before God, which thing is pleasing unto God’ (v7). So, here Jacob is saying that the Lord desires women and children to have feelings that are tender, chaste and delicate. Women and children are supposed to be this way, as God intended. What have we done as a society to both our women and children? But Jacob goes on, “And it supposeth me that they (women and children) have come up hither to hear the pleasing word of God, yea the word which healeth the wounded soul.”
    It is the “pleasing word of God” that “healeth the wounded soul!” There is the answer. But, I ask a question. Is it enough to read or listen to the word of God to heal spiritual wounds? To me that sounds too easy; and I believe Eternal Life is not easy to come by. The Greatest Gift of God is not a free gift. The scriptures tell us that we must overcome our carnal, sensual and natural (devilish) selves and become like God to receive that high gift. So what is the answer? How do we get the word of God deeply into the people? What about immersing ourselves in the pleasing word of God? Devoting our lives to being truth seekers and seeking the truth until we find it. Turning over every stone on the beach until we find the treasure. Turning our whole souls over to scripture study just like the Lord expects us to eventually turn our very lives over to Him?
    The speaker then revealed something to me that was awesome. He said that Jacob, the brother of Nephi was an abused child and my whole mental picture of Lehi’s family changed. Here we go: “And now, Jacob, I speak unto you: Thou art my first-born in the days of my tribulation in the wilderness. And behold, in thy childhood thou hast suffered afflictions and much sorrow, because of the rudeness of thy brethren” (2Ne 2:1). Rudeness means, harsh, crude, course, or vulgar. Being harsh, crude, course and vulgar causes wounds in the delicate natures of the children of God.
    Do you remember when Sam and Nephi came back without the plates the first time they tried to get them? Laman and Lemuel beat Nephi so badly that an angel had to come break it up. And when they were on the ship crossing the ocean, these eldest brothers tied Nephi to the mast of the ship and beat him. This is harsh activity, this is a course life, this is a vulgar way to treat another human being, let alone a member of your family.
    Lehi’s family was not your typical family; it was an abusive family. There were wounds in young Jacob’s soul. But Lehi, in leaving his blessing upon this wounded child said this, “Nevertheless, Jacob, my first-born in the wilderness, thou knowest the greatness of God; and he shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain” (2Ne 2:2). Lehi went further and taught his wounded son that “redemption cometh in and through the Holy Messiah; for he is full of grace and truth” (v6).
    Jacob, who learns to get real close to God (see 2Ne 2:4), lives to become the Prophet to the Lord’s people after his brother Nephi dies. And what does he teach his people? Although Jacob is very strong in opposition to sin, he teaches his people that it is the word of God that heals; it is the atonement of Christ and the blessings of grace which save men souls. He teaches that tenderness, chastity, and delicate natures are desired by God in his people. He teaches these things because he has lived them.
    In a meeting with President Faust that the speaker attended, the meeting was opened for questions. The question was asked, “what are we going to do to overcome all the addictions we face in the world?” Do you remember the statement by Elder Boyd K. Packer about behavior? He said, “True doctrine understood changes attitudes and behavior quicker than the study of behavior.” The study of behavior changes behavior; but that and true doctrine does it faster! President Faust adopted a comfortable position with his mouth close to the microphone and said, “Get them to hold faster and tighter to the Iron Rod. Next question?”
    At this point the speaker made if very clear that he was not saying that medicines were not necessary to correct chemical imbalances and so forth. He reminded us that Elder Ashton said that faith and medicine work like the two halves of scissors to do delicate work.
    Again, the pleasing word of God heals the wounded soul. But, we have to get that word in you and not just on you. The word of God will heal and change you. There is a healing agent in the scriptures that is like no other. But, again it is not just reading the scriptures, it is getting the truth and insights found in the scriptures inside of you, so that you become changed from carnal, sensual and devilish to a Child of God.
    The Lord in D&C 84:57 says, “And they shall remain under this condemnation until they repent and remember the new covenant, even the Book of Mormon and the former commandments (Bible) which I have given them, not only to say, but to do according to that which I have written.” From this statement I get that our scripture study should at least be concentrated enough to cause us not only to talk about the truth but to do, or live, the truth. It is this kind of concentration that heals. And when the healing takes place that which is holding the person back from obedience is removed. If we can just get the wounded healed they will want to serve the King.
    Elder Faust said to get them to hold faster and tighter to the iron rod. Nephi’s brothers asked him what the iron rod was and Nephi’s answer contains some pretty awesome promises. “And they said unto me: what meaneth the rod of iron which our father saw that led to the tree? And I said unto them that it was the word of God; and whoso would hearken unto the word of God, and would hold fast unto it, they would never perish; neither could the temptations and the fiery darts of the adversary overpower them unto blindness, to lead them away to destruction” (1Ne 51:23-24). To hearken means to employ it; to use it. And if we hold fast to the word of God we will not perish. What a great promise. And also we, by concentrating on the scriptures cannot, never mind being led away to destruction; but way before that we will not be blinded by the fiery darts of temptation. That is a huge limitation on the power of our common enemy.
    Not only these great promises but we can lead and teach out of our own healed and changed hearts. Remember, President Lee told us that we would never help another unless we re on higher ground than they. We love, we nourish, we support and we are patient while the Lord heals the wounded soul from the inside out.
    President Hinkley asked the church to read the Book of Mormon in the coming year, while he was President of the Church. In so doing he promised three things would happen in the lives of those who took up the challenge. 1) You would feel an additional measure of the Spirit of the Lord. 2) You would feel a stronger commitment to obey the commandments. 3) You would gain a stronger testimony of the living reality of the Son of God. A little research showed that Elder Hinkley had made that exact promise in the exact words twice before becoming President of the Church. Do you think the brethren want us to get into the Book of Mormon? I am sure that one of the reasons the Prophets want us in the Book of Mormon is so the people of the Church can be healed: gaining a stronger testimony of the living reality of the Son of God means you are coming to know the Healer. What are we waiting for?
    Elder Russell M. Nelson has said, “Each individual who prayerfully studies the Book of Mormon can also receive a testimony of the divinity of the book. In addition the book can help with personal problems in a very real way. Do you want to get rid of a bad habit? Do you want to improve relationships in your family? Do you want to increase your spiritual capacity? Read the Book of Mormon! It will bring you closer to the Lord and His loving power... He who helped the blind to see and the lame to walk can also bless you. He has promised that those who live by the precepts of this book shall receive a Crown of Eternal Life.”
    The Book of Mormon is to teach us about the Great Healer. What happens to the blind, the lame, the wounded, the weary, the downtrodden when they come in contact with the Creator of all things? They are healed! Why the Book of Mormon? Because it can heal us no matter what our wounds. Again, what are we waiting for before we jump in with both feet? If you want to be healed of not being treated well, let the word of God get into you.
    It is often the case that we try to get others to comply with the truth we have found. That is not our role or responsibility. We cannot change others. We can’t get them to read the Book of Mormon. But we can love them, we can be tender, we can be delicate, and we can be chaste in our dealings with them. In our relationships with others, especially our family, it doesn’t matter who is right. What matters is what will bring the sweetness of the Spirit into our homes so that we don’t create wounds in the hearts of others, especially our children. Fighting wounds children, always. We can and must not cause further wounds. We can be examples of what God would want us to be.
    We come to know Him. We separate ourselves out and we spend quiet time. And in our quiet meditation and our pondering over the Word of God wounds are healed, ideas given, and solutions are found.
    Joseph Smith said, “If you do your duty, it will be just as well with you as if all men accept the gospel” (History of the Church, vol 1, pg 468). Do your duty. Live the gospel. Love out of your own healed heart and it will be as though all men accepted the gospel; we won’t lose them. On this same subject Joseph Smith said on another occasion, “All your loses will be made up to you in the resurrection, provided you live faithful.” And then he adds this awesome declaration: “By the vision of the Almighty I have seen it” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, pg 296). I may not understand all that these statements entail; but I do understand enough to know that doing my duty and living faithfully is a small price to pay for all that is promised.
    D&C 50:7 seems to add more to the statements by Joseph Smith. “Behold, verily I say unto you, there are hypocrites among you, who have deceived some, which has given the adversary power; but behold such shall be reclaimed.” So, if one’s wounds, insecurity, or failings come because of the deceit of hypocrites, that person will be recovered. To me that means that the truth will be made known to you and you are held guiltless for anything you did because you were deceived. This is the mercy of Christ which allows all to be punished for their own sins and not the sins of others.
    This love of the Savior is everywhere demonstrated. In 3Ne 17:5, the gathered multitude gazes upon the Savior with tears in their eyes and the steadfastness of their gaze let the Lord know that they wished He would stay. He told them so and said his bowels were filled with compassion towards them. He asked if there were any sick among them. He wanted to heal them. And the multitude went forth with their sick and He did heal them “that were afflicted in any manner” (v9). And then He prayed to The Father for them; and so great were the things that He prayed that they could not be written. He is the Great Healer. He wants to heal us if we will only come to Him.
    He is our advocate with the Father. He pleads our case before our Heavenly Father. “And I give unto you, who are the first laborers in this last kingdom, a commandment that you assemble yourselves together, and organize yourselves, and prepare yourselves, and sanctify yourselves; yea, purify your hearts, and cleanse your hands and your feet before me, that I may make you clean; that I may testify unto your Father and your God, and my God, that you are clean from the blood of this wicked generation; that I may fulfil this promise, this great and last promise, which I have made unto you, when I will” (D&C 88 74-75).
    Our duty, our level of concentration when learning of Him is laid out in these previous verses. A pattern of behavior is laid out prior to Him making us clean. This has significance for me because of my vision where the Lord tells me, “Duane, I have Power to Make You Clean.” All of this is the doing of the word of God. It is employing the word of God in our daily lives. It is letting His word sink deep into the elements that make up our soul; and the soul is the body and the spirit.
    The speaker ended with an invitation; even an invitation from God. It comes after the great destruction upon all the land in the Book of Mormon that occurred at the death of Jesus Christ, yet prior to his appearance to the people here in the western hemisphere. The Lord rehearses unto those who were not destroyed by the destruction all the cities and souls that are gone. He explains to the people who can hear His voice that it is because of wickedness and sin that the destruction and death has taken place. Then the Healer invites His hearers to come unto Him, “O all ye that are spared because ye were more righteous than they, will ye not now return unto me, and repent of your sins, and be converted, that I may heal you?” (3Ne 9:13) Will you be healed? Will you have the things that are holding you back removed? Then study the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon, like your life depends upon it; because your Eternal Life does depend on it. (End of Notes)
Personal
    The purpose of this life is to come to know Jesus Christ, Him Crucified and why and for whom He was crucified. You cannot learn about such things without revelation. I define revelation as God speaking directly to you. I have a knowledge that Heavenly Father set this life up so that we, each, individually, are responsible for our own lives. We will be judged for our own sins and not anyone else’s. We will also be blessed for our individual efforts to do, employ, use and obey the word of God.
    This life is a busy and noisy one; and a child of God seeking the truth, seeking to become like God, seeking to know Jesus Christ and Him Crucified needs to find quiet time. Sleep less, get out of the city, go to the city park and block out the noise of the city. Shut your windows and doors; do anything to find quiet. And when the quiet is found do not let it go to waste; do not lose a millisecond. Ponder, meditate, do your musing to that you can “suddenly discover” the right answer: the answer from the Lord.
    What a wonderful world it would be if we all could learn to do that. The world would be so very different from the way it is now, if we do what we have to do to find the quiet time to commune with the Divine.
    This talk by Brother Christianson made a big impression on me. I am one of the wounded. I guess you could say I have been treated harshly, with much rudeness, a coarse vulgarity ran through my childhood. Because of that example in my life, I have followed, for much of my own life, the same path. I exhibit some of these same traits. There is something that is holding me back from being my best person, as Glenn Beck would put it.
    As I have read the Ablow and Beck book, a question of how to dig up those things holding me back has bothered me. Brother Christianson’s talk tells me that if I would have these wounds healed I must immerse myself in the “pleasing word of God.” As I do so, the Lord will heal those wounds. But, in some way, during the healing process, those things that are holding me back will be removed through the atonement of Jesus Christ and I will be made whole. It is my prayer that I will return to that chaste, tender, and delicate person the Lord would have me be so that I do not cause wounds in any of His other children.

Book Review - Door To December by Dean Koontz

2011-08-16T15:46:00.001-06:00

I really believe this is my favorite Koontz novel of all time. That's hard to say because I probably said the same thing about the Frankenstein Series as well as the Odd Thomas series.

Still, this one really captured my attention from the first page and never let up until the last.

The interesting thing is, this novel was written by Koontz, and first published in 1985 under the pen name of Richard Paige. It was the only Paige offering ever published. Koontz has a little commentary at the end of the book explaining the practice and use of pen names, which was both informative and amusing. Considering the passage of time and a much less mature author than today's Dean Koontz, it is quite remarkable that I liked it so much.

That said, I think if I had read it thinking Richard Paige wrote it; I feel quite certain that I'd have attributed it to Koontz before the 100th page. It is so characteristically his; yet so very unique. As always I loved his descriptive prose and the breezy, humorous, light, bright conversations between very interesting characters.

I'm not going to spoil a thing by telling you any about the story. Just accept that this, like every Koontz novel, is thrilling, imaginative, almost credible and hugely entertaining. How can an author take his readers to such dark places and leave them so enlightened in the end? I think he answers that question nicely in the addendum commentary as well.

Five Stars

Trust

2011-08-08T15:54:00.000-06:00

Note: In recognition of the recent passing of Sister Cheiko Okazaki, and as an expression of gratitude for the deep impression she made upon my life; may I re-post from Commend Yourself to God an article I wrote referring to a great lesson she once taught me. Thank you dear Sister for your heart-felt and God-inspired gifts to each of us.

The wounds of manipulation destroy trust. Lack of trust is why people don’t change. Broken trust is a scalding, instant pain much like touching a hot stove. We are reticent to ever feel it again and so we carefully guard against it. No one likes the pain of disappointment that comes of broken promises and violated trust. We are quick to put up walls and barriers. We put on oven mitts before coming near the danger again. We shore up our defenses or cower down in our hidey holes and refuse to come out until we’re certain the coast is clear. Is it any wonder we are so hard to reach? How are we to distinguish the trustworthy from those who’ll selfishly hurt us again? No one wants to be vulnerable when the cost of a mistake can hurt so badly. To attempt a change in our lives is to come out of our fortifications into that scary world. It is hard to let ourselves become that vulnerable again.

While serving at the Detention Center, I had a remarkable compatriot. His name is Darwin. The youth just loved him. More than a year after his being called elsewhere, the kids still inquire after him. The thing that made Darwin so special was that he was vulnerable. He hid nothing from them, including his tears. It is a hard and vulnerable thing to weep in front of others. Some will not understand. Some with judge and tease and say hurtful things. Darwin has felt the sting of such unkindness many times, but he refuses to withdraw to a King’s X were he’ll be safe from that. Why? Because Darwin knows that in order to draw wounded people out of the turtle shell of safety they’ve grown around themselves they have to trust. Darwin also knows that trust begets trust. He trusts the kids to keep his confidences. He trusts them to not make fun of his weakness. He takes a huge risk. But, he thinks it’s worth it, because they sense that if Darwin feels safe out there, maybe they might be too. They test the waters in Darwin’s presence and nothing happens, so out they come and bask in the sunshine a while. When he’s not there, they usually draw back into their shells, but they risk it when he’s around because they know that even if they get stung, it will also sting Darwin and they’ll deal with it together.

I think that one of the greatest gifts parents can give their children is to be willing to be vulnerable in their presence. My own dear Father had a difficult time being vulnerable. He was a very capable accomplished man. He appeared to me to be perfect so I could, in no way relate to him. He, like most parents was also a manipulator and was the cause of much of my pain. I never dared cry in his presence except when he took a belt to my backside. In that case the wails and tears were indicative that he’d done his job. I realize now that the society he lived in had manipulated him into conformity and that breaking out of that mold was just as difficult for him as it is for me.

Long after my father had passed away, I had a sacred moment with him which is too special to describe here. Let me just say that he came to me and showed me his weakness in a very vulnerable way. My discovery of his humility, humanity and willingness to expose his weakness to me, was quite possibly the most cathartic experience of my life. How wonderful that the Lord, in his mercy, saw me holed up in my shell and chose to allow my father to be the one to come and draw me out. I can only imagine how healing it was for Dad as well.

Once my father was able to show me a different pattern of parenthood, I began to be willing to trust my Father in Heaven as well. I love a little story told by Cheiko Okazaki in her book Lighten Up! There she describes a hypothetical situation in which Jesus might show up at your door for a visit. He is welcome in the tidy part of the house but, in this story, kept from the kitchen where things aren’t just right.

I just went back and reread that chapter in the book. It is not at all like I remember it. It seems, that I have subconsciously, rewritten the story to more accurately reflect my own weakness and circumstance. It rather amused me to discover how I had embellished her sweet simple story with details of my own. Here’s how the story goes in my mind’s version:

I get a card in the mail indicating that Jesus would like to come visit me on the following afternoon. I realize that I’ll be hard pressed to make all the preparations. The note says he’ll arrive at 4:30 PM, so I assume he’ll want to stay for supper. I look at my calendar and see that my evening is booked at the Detention Center and that my morning has something too. I think I can get to the store on the way back from that morning engagement and will probably have time to clean up the messy kitchen and fix a meal in the remaining time. I go about my life at little harried, a little worried.

My morning meeting goes long. The lines are long at the grocery store. As I come in the driveway a neighbor flags me down with an emergency across the street that requires my attention. I make it into the house two hours late and some of the food has spoiled in the hot car. I’ll have to go to plan B as I can’t fix spoiled food for the Savior. I’m just rolling up my sleeves to tackle three days of neglected dishes when the door bell rings. I rush to answer it and find to my horrified dismay that He has arrived early!

Flustered I escort Him to the Home Teaching Room, move the morning paper off the best chair and invite Him to sit. I make a few apologies, mingled with excuses and ask if he’d like some refreshment? I explain that I’ll be leaving Him there while I go tidy up a bit and get dinner on, whereupon, according to Dixon’s version, I hand Him a Bible to read while he waits.

Oh boy, now I have to stop and interject some explanation about Dixon. Dixon is a Native American fellow who has spent the past two years as my companion at the Detention Center. He was seriously injured in a drunk-driving accident years ago. He spent eight months in a coma and now has some disability. His left side is partially paralyzed and his speech is difficult to understand. He’s especially limited in speaking long sentences and gets completely muddled with paragraphs. The result is that he’s become a master of the one liner.

Dixon has a deep understanding of the gospel. He has a grateful, happy outlook on life. Add to that a superior sense of humor and a flawless sense of timing and you get, well, the best teaching companion. My lessons became drum rolls punctuated by Dixon’s rim shots.

Such was the case when, telling the above story to the kids in DT, I came to that part where I was awkwardly seating the Savior of the World in my drawing room and attempting to see to his needs. I was just saying how I was about to leave him there with a magazine when Dixon interjected, “ Bible!”

See what I mean? With one word, Dixon summarized my whole message. We laughed and laughed at the stupidity of thinking that we in any way could presume to meets Jesus’ needs, especially with something He’d given to meet ours!

Now, back to the story: As I’m about to leave, Jesus asks if He might come into the kitchen and help! “Oh, of course not!” I protest. “I could never let you see my messy kitchen!”

He kindly explains that He’d rather help and that He’s good at it. Still I protest, but He patiently persists. Finally, I reluctantly agree. I’m sure that when He sees the mess there will be recriminations, “This place is a pig sty! How can you live like this?”

Instead, He quietly, patiently rolls up His sleeves and goes to work beside me. In the end I imagine a pleasant afternoon of cooking and cleaning and pleasant conversation.

Actually, this story is not all imagination. In order to recover from my addiction, I had to do exactly what I’ve described. All my life I had left the Lord alone in the tidy parts of my soul. Never inviting Him in where He might do some good. It was a difficult day when I swung to doors wide and meekly invited Him in to see the messy parts. They were far worse than a few days’ undone dishes. My “kitchen” was a filthy, stinking can of worms. Still, there was no condemnation just an invitation to join Him in cleaning up the mess. He is very good at what He does.

That kind of trust, that kind of vulnerability is not easy to come by. I think it is what the scriptures call being circumcised of heart; the willingness to become utterly vulnerable in order to become clean and enter the covenant.

Most of us consider confessing to be repentance. In this story, I confess to the Savior that I have a messy kitchen, but that is of not use to me or Him. It is only when I let Him far enough in to actually help with the clean up, that I am cleansed, comforted and forgiven.

So, if we are afraid and walled in, how do we get the courage to step out into the light and take the risk of trusting again? I don’t know if there is a magic formula. Some go there because they are smothering in their fortress and are driven out for air. Others get exposed for who they really are and once exposed decide to face their humiliation and do something about it. Others, finding someone they can truly trust, with whom their confidence has grown over time, may trust their confidant and accept an invitation to emerge from their prison/shelter. Remember, manipulation has driven them there; manipulation will not bring them back. No selfish effort on my part is going to initiate trust and vulnerability on the part of another.

Book Review - What The Night Knows by Dean Koontz

2011-08-05T16:42:00.001-06:00

Again, Koontz masterfully contrasts light and darkness. It is amazing, the awful realms he can show us; thus enhancing the absolute brilliance of the light. As always, his work is abundant with amusing conversations, wonderful descriptions and delightful characters.

This is a fascinating story as well. A police detective, John Calvino, is a survivor of a horrible series of murders that included his entire family. Now they're beginning again and he must stop the perpetrator before he loses his wife and children, like he had is parents and siblings.

These past few years Koontz seems to be bent on understanding his religious experience. He seems to be a believer, has wonderful insights into human nature and seems at a loss to explain the miracles that seem to pervade our lives. While his conclusions in this case are interesting, even compelling, they are far from satisfying and satisfactory. Too bad he doesn't have a deeper understanding of The Plan of Salvation.

Still, he does get some things in spades. This, for example:

"She knew terrible things happened to the best of people, to people far better than she would ever be, even people as good and innocent as Minette. But she also knew that the power of the imagination could shape reality Every day she made real on canvas the scenes that would be otherwise confined forever to her mind; therefore it seemed a half step in logic to believe that the imagination might directly influence reality."

I like that. It speaks of reality being created first, spiritually. Sometimes, though, imagination gets tangled up in worry and confusion. Here is Koontz's beautifully descriptive expression of that notion:

"Naomi found herself for once in a situation where her galloping imagination seemed tethered, pawing at the ground with its hooves, stirring up nothing but dust."

Having previously described the church as having evolved into an institution of social connection and social activism and service, Koontz makes this telling observation:

"They (the church) were embarrassed by the old-fashioned idea of absolute Evil, of Evil personified, but the answer to this wasn't a food bank, he would not save his family and himself by throwing food at this thing, not by giving it a cot in a homeless shelter, not by social action, what he need here was some really effective antisocial action ... a miracle..."

I liked the idea that in our world of uncertainties, of ineffective, even crooked politicians, of crime, of calamity; sometimes all we can do is quit trusting in "the arm of the flesh" and call upon God to put forth His mighty hand and intervene. A rather old fashioned notion, to be sure, at least by popular standards; but a very real and effective one.

I never come away disappointed with a Dean Koontz novel. I'll be sad to remove the Book Darts and return this one to the library. I'd rather own it.

Five Stars

Need a Meeting?

2011-07-28T07:14:00.002-06:00

Most of you know that I am a recovering addict and that I attend three meetings aweek. Two to help others and one to continue my own journey. Perhaps you have wondered what goes on there. This little video is a classic example of the blessed moments we spend together learning of the Atonement.

What Would I Do If....

2011-07-27T15:25:00.001-06:00

I have a dream of spending a summer living in Sutton, Quebec. It is a little town I have fallen in love with. Many of my ancestors settled there around 1800. While I probably have a few cousins still hanging around Sutton, and while I sure like to meet them, that is just part of the draw. I'd like to stroll down country lanes and hike wooded paths. I'd like eat baguettes in little bistros and chat with the locals on a sidewalk bench. I'd like to converse with a favorite author, who happens to live there. I'd like to study French. I'd like to haunt local book stores and join a book club. I'd like to find fellowship in the local Ward. I'd like to smell the timothy hay being cut in the gorgeous fields.

I am on my way to that goal. Still, it may be some time before it is actually arrive in Sutton.

This morning, feeling a bit unsettled, and having a bit of free time on my hands, I found myself wondering, "What would I do if I were living in Sutton right now?" I decided I'd probably go for a morning hike in the woods followed by a quiet lunch in a little bistro in town. Then, I thought, ought I not to be doing the same thing right here where I am? Of course I should!

I jumped in the car and drove up Hwy 191 to the place Brush Creek crosses the road. Just south of that junction is a trail into a canyon I've long wanted to explore. It had rained over night and the air was cool and moist. The sandy bottom of the wash was firm and damp. Perfect for hiking. It looked as if a pretty good stream had run down the wash during the night, but now, not even a trickle.

My friend Tom had designed this trail for the BLM a few years ago, but I have never taken the time to hike it. Oh, what I have missed! It was a great three hour excursion that really lifted my spirits! What a joy to see slick rock arches, massive junipers, even a surprise clump of Quakies, or as Tom would surely say, Populus tremuloides, everything so fresh and washed clean. The scudding clouds still lay low on these fringes of the mountain and provided shade and freshness even as late as eleven. Tom had designed the trail very well. I had thought the trail continued on for miles, but if it did, I lost it somewhere. It ended, for me, in a box canyon full of squawberry bushes and teeming with birds. I saw Rufous-sided Towhees, Albert's Towhees, Blue Gray Gnat Catchers and Vireos, as well as Ravens, Canyon Wrens and Doves.

Climbing out of the canyon I got a great view of the mountain and of Simplot's phosphate operations. It was a splendid hike on a magnificent morning.

Driving home, wishing Vernal had a quaint little place to eat, it occurred to me that Bitter Creek Bookstore has put in a little bistro in the back called the Backdoor Grille. I decided it was the perfect time to give it a try. I had a marvelous Tuscan chicken panini with a nice raspberry smoothie. The atmosphere was charming. Cookies were baking in the oven and the gals were busy making the soup du jour. (See even a little French!) Kathy asked friendly questions and Alan sold me a used Dean Koontz novel; one that had slipped by me some years ago.

I'm still headed for Sutton someday, but should I die, before my journey's through, happy day, I'm having a great time right where I am.

Joy In That Which Ye Have Desired

2011-07-25T09:54:00.009-06:00

A number of thoughts, pointers, notions, doctrines and stories have been collectively playing upon my mind this week. They seem to be coalescing into an approach to living that I can no longer ignore. I'll briefly summarize the gist of years of collected concepts and then examine my conclusion.

Stephen R. Covey, while discussing his Second Habit - Begin with the End in Mind, mentions that everything must be created spiritually, before it is created physically.

The Lord in D&C 124:99 promised William Law that, "he shall mount up in the imagination of his thoughts as upon eagles’ wings.

Richard Paul Evans very graphically explained how looking through The Spyglass and seeing what might be, enables us to "make it so."

Lehi declares in 1 Nephi 5:5, "I have obtained a land of promise, in the which things I do rejoice..." (Note that this is long before he ever arrived in the Americas.)

Alma observed of Lehi's journey to the Promised Land, "For behold, it is as easy to give heed to the word of Christ, which will point to you a straight course to eternal bliss, as it was for our fathers to give heed to this compass, which would point unto them a straight course to the promised land. (see Alma 37:44)

The Lord promises that if we let virtue (any admirable quality, feature, or trait; or moral excellence, righteousness) garnish our thoughts unceasingly (among other wonderful blessings) our "dominion shall be an everlasting dominion, and without compulsory means it shall flow unto (us) forever and ever."

Each of these wonderful observations has simmered in my heart for a good long time. Then the other day, when I read The Jackrabbit Factor, they all began to form into a joyful, hopeful desire. What if I actually began to practice these principles? ....as a whole? I've often set goals. I frequently dream of a wonderful future different from my present. I'm beginning to hope that my fragmented approach, though well intended, has ruined my chances for success because of a confused view of what I hoped to accomplish.

Should I not, under the direction of the Spirit of God be able to let my imagination soar as on eagles wings and thereby spiritually create a future of such magnificence that I might be wont to call it the Promised Land? Then, if I have created this future of promise under God's direction, may I not rejoice at having already obtained it? Having it as my own, from the perspective of faith and vision, will I not cross deserts and oceans and fear and doubt with a virtuous eye fixed upon my physical arrival at such a destination? Knowing that in a very real way it is already mine, will I not be able to rejoice not only in what is to be, but in what is? Will I not be more able to live in the moment, knowing that the promise is sure and that without compulsory means it all shall freely flow unto me? Will I not, while focusing on my spiritually created future, be more motivated to further seek the guidance of my internal Liahona to direct my decisions so as to keep me on a straight course to such a destination?

I have come to believe that these principles are true. I am, today, embarking upon my own journey to the Promised Land. I hope to obtain it soon, though it may be years before I physically arrive. I expect to enjoy the journey in the sure knowledge that the promise is mine, not only then but now.

The Lord promised Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery, "Verily I say unto you, ye shall both have according to your desires, for ye both joy in that which ye have desired. (see D&C 7:8) They, like Lehi, were able to rejoice, knowing that which was promised, by its very nature, was already theirs.

Book Review - The Jackrabbit Factor by Leslie Householder

2011-07-22T08:16:00.004-06:00

I've been down in the dumps of late. Rather frustrated with a very uncertain future. Sweetie and I went to the library yesterday and selected a few books. As we approached the counter the clerk, after registering Sweetie's card, produced a book that was on hold for her. It was The Jackrabbit Factor.

Sweetie had never heard of it and was quite certain that she had never requested it from the library. We checked it out any way. I had picked up a Dean Koontz novel I had not read yet and was very excited to read it.

Sometime during the day, on an impulse I picked up The Jackrabbit Factor and began to read. I hated it. I fought it. I criticized it. I complained about it. And now, less than 24 hours later, I've finished it.

I hate self help books. I mocked Stephen R. Covey's praise for the book as I read the back cover. While praising Householder, Covey seemed to reveal his own vanity. Inside the cover I feared I had found yet another purveyor of the gospel of greed.

I have a friend who often quotes his mission president,

"He who worships at the altar of self-improvement, also worships a false God."

While I have no real beef with Covey's 7 Habits, I do have a good deal to say about the Korihor-esque approach to life management he has incorporated into the paper and computer systems he sells. I have become certain that success comes, not from taking control of our lives, but from giving control to God. That method has largely governed my life for the past six years and has been far more productive than the Covey method I used for so many years before that. While planning is necessary, Richard Eyre's method as described in The Three Deceivers, is far more productive, much less time consuming and tons more fun.

The Three Deceivers was not a self help book, by my definition, but rather a fresh way of looking at life. In the end, so was The Jackrabbit Factor. While I am repulsed by greed, which revulsion probably tainted my view as I began the read; I am inspired by abundant thinking, which this book fostered in a bright new way.

I harbor queasy misgivings about the rah rah approach of Anthony Robbins, Smith/Covey Inc. and others who attract wealth by promising wealth to others who'll follow their "programs." And the Householders seem to have pursued the same course. It all seems too gimmicky to me. But hey, if there is something I can glean from all the hoopla, why not. It hasn't cost me anything but a bit of time, which I'd probably have wasted any way.

The part I liked was mostly stuff I have already experienced and had previously come to believe. The fact that I've been down in the dumps is a clear indicator that I had not been living congruently with those beliefs, though. Looking back I realize my life is replete with examples of how these methods of thinking really work. I must credit the book with stimulating a more concentrated focus on the matter and thus a marked emergence from the doldrums. The fundamental things are true, powerful and available to all. But you don't need to buy the book, I'll gladly teach them to you for free.

Householder points out that the "things we want, want us." In this case the book seems to have wanted me when I didn't necessarily want it. I have to admit that it did turn up at a most opportune time.

Three Stars

Book Review - Daily Riches - A Journal of Gratitude and Awareness by Bluestein, Lawrence and Sanchez

2011-07-21T05:35:00.000-06:00

The reading of this book is the kindest gift I've given myself in a very very long time. As it is also an ongoing tool, it is also a gift that will keep on giving. Enough said.

Self-Inflicted Hair Cut

2011-07-08T04:17:00.001-06:00

I haven't had a satisfactory hair cut since Loran quit cutting hair six or seven years ago. He'd cut my hair for years. He knew my style, short, simple and enduring. I have better things to do than sit in a barber shop, so I expect a cut to last three months. Loran understood this. He was a traditional barber who stropped a straight razor on a belt, foamed me up around the ears and neckline with warm lather, and shaved a nice clean border on my pate.

Since Loran retired I've had to settle for having a far less than satisfactory hair cut inflicted upon me by hair stylists. Stubborn lot, hair stylists. It's their way, or the highway. No shaving around the ears. No smooth clean taper. Every time I've had to come home and shave my own neck. How is it stylish to have long hairs running down my neck and beneath my collar? I've complained about this. I've even been told that it had been done, only, upon inspection, to find it hadn't. I guess women don't get those run-away hairs below the neckline. And, lets face it; hair stylists are trained to cut women's hair, not men's. I've shopped around. The big salons never give you the same stylist twice. The little one's don't seem to listen and seem to be as independent as welders. I often say, "You can always tell a welder, you just can't tell him much." So it is with stylists. I've tried complaining, tipping, long lengthy descriptions of what I'm looking for, heck, I've even threatened a few times, and still I come home with unsatisfactory results.

Now, lest you think me picky, I don't have very lofty standards for a hair cut. I don't expect to magically, be made handsome by a hair cut. Nothing short of a face transplant could accomplish that. I just want a smooth even cut that at least looks as good as my lawn when it's finished. I don't want missed spots and I want it trimmed up around the edges. Is that too much to ask?

After several years of forking out cash for hair cuts that I, or my wife, had to remodel each time I returned home; I decided to take matters into my own hands. If I am going to look like this one way or the other I'd just as soon inflict the pain on myself as pay someone else to do it. I bought a nice set of clippers and went at it.

I'm jealous of Howie Mandel. If I had a nice round, presentable, head like his, I'd just shave it and call it good. Instead, I have a head covered with knots, crevices, ridges and moles. How much is my viewing public expected to take? Then, again, even that is pretty high maintenance, and seems trumped by a periodic hair cut. Speaking of trump, I must admit that I've never once sported a worse hair cut than The Donald. But I digress....

Back to self-inflicted hair cuts...

I am uncoordinated, utterly helpless at making my mind reverse it self while using a mirror as a reference when working on the back, and I surely lack an artistic flair for such things; but, I can make a hair cut last three months, and that is all I ever wanted in the first place.

It has been said that the difference between a good and bad hair cut is just a couple of days. I can buy that. So if I cut my hair on Monday, I have plenty of time to look presentable for church. If not I can always sit on the back row. In my book, the difference between a good and bad hair cut is $20.00. The good one is free! No lines, appointments, angst, repairs, premature returns to the salon, unrealistic expectations, disappointments, frustrations, swear words or Amway sales pitches - just free.

Book Review - The Hundred Secret Senses by Amy Tan

2011-07-05T11:29:00.000-06:00

I really enjoy Amy Tan's books. They are fresh and interesting. I enjoy the contrast in American and Chinese cultures she addresses so well. This one was better in most respects that either The Joy Luck Club or The Bonesetter's Daughter, both of which, I also enjoyed.

This one is quite mystical and philosophical, perhaps more so than any of Tan's novels, which gave it the appeal I prefer. I want to learn something about myself in a book, even if it's about China. I felt I learned a lot this time. Here's a quote about one great lesson for me:

"Anyway, yin people talk about life already gone, like banquet, many-many flavors, 'Oh,' they say, 'now I remember. This part I enjoy, this I not enjoy enough. This I eat up too fast. Why I don't taste that one? Why I let this piece of my life gone spoiled, complete wasted?'"

You'll surely note the pidgin English, in the statement. This is so true of me. I pursue this pleasure, obtain that instrument, acquire that tool or those friends, only to get distracted and neglect some, while consuming others, not necessarily by priority, but based on the expedience of the moment. Who wants to wind up with a pile of regret at the end.

The story moves from San Francisco to a small village outside Guilin, China. Tan is a master of description and I loved my visit to China through her words. The tastes, smells, traffic, shops all come to life in the pages of the book.

Much of the story takes place in the turmoil of the nineteenth century where we learn of Christian missionaries and political waves of oppression and war. The main story is modern. In fact too modern for my taste. A bit crass, drifting in the winds of an unanchored culture of academia, hedonism, and agnostic futility.

The story, philosophy, discovery all could have, should have taught great lessons to the protagonist upon whom it all seems to have no conclusion, no effect. It looks like, Tan wants to be realistic in the end, for after taking her character through opportunity after opportunity to learn and grow; after making the reader aware that the woman can make astute observations about the meaning of her experience; she lets us see, that ultimately she is neither changed nor blessed by the struggle she experiences. It's as if she is saying life, experience, education, discovery offer no real gifts to those who endure them.

I'd characterize the book as magnificently entertaining, and largely pointless.

Three Stars

The Evil Person Assumption

2011-06-30T12:19:00.006-06:00

I've spent a lot of years providing spiritual hope in jails and detention centers. In the process I've become intimately acquainted with a lot of inmates. I suppose I have met a few evil people behind bars, but the vast majority are not evil. All have done evil things. But that is not unique to prisoners. All have done evil things.

Most prisoners are there for doing desperate, foolish, and dangerous things out of fear. Most are coping with horrible circumstances, often beyond their control. Most have poor coping skills. Most are utterly uninformed about the means by which they might live more wholesome, healthy lives. Many, and this will be the focus of this entry, are misinformed about why they behave as they do and what can be done about it.

Most prisoners believe they are evil. This is the first big lie. They've been taught to believe this about themselves by people and institutions, most, if not all of their lives. Usually, it began with parents. Parents who were also misinformed. Parents who impatiently wanted convenient kids who didn't interrupt Mom and Dad's comfort and pleasure. Any violation of which, presented punishment of some sort, and which spawned dishonesty and rebellion. Shame was used on them as a weapon; not to develop their character, but to further their superior's convenience. Schools, churches and other institutions then reinforced what they already believed about themselves.

Most prisoners believe they have no options. They have been taught continually, to believe that their behavior is their problem. They have no idea that beneath that behavior lie causes and conditions that they are inappropriately trying to cope with by their behavior. In most cases these people have been "pierced with deep wounds" that have not been treated. Coping with those wounds consumes them. They turn to addictive behavior most commonly. Something to numb the pain. This leads to inability to remain employed, but demands feeding, leading to crime, homelessness, frustration, violence, and all the things that tend to land them in jail.

Most prisoners are living with despair. Having tried and failed so many times in their lives. They have given up hope of any viable alternative to the desperate, agonizing choices they feel compelled to make and repeat.

Many, many prisoners, find incarceration their best option. Being locked up has it's perks. They no longer have to cope with life. At least the parameters and problems are confined to a smaller set of circumstances, with more defined boundaries, fewer opportunities to make mistakes, less danger of failure, and no need to provide shelter, food and companionship for themselves.

These are not evil people. Confused, unprepared, uninformed, poorly nurtured, frustrated, angry, afraid? Yes. But not evil.

We all have contributed to this to the degree that we have hacked at the branches of their problems instead of at the roots. We have caused this by standing upon our bully pulpits, having condemned them instead of their behavior. We have created this by preaching the law and punishing it's violation, instead of preaching love and seeking to heal wounded hearts.

We have heaped guilt and shame upon them from our pulpits until we have driven them from our churches, when we should have been treating their wounds by binding up their broken hearts. We've turned our religious institutions into good old boy clubs where we praise the "righteous" and condemn the sinners. I assume because we couldn't be bothered and would rather not associate with their ilk anyway. We are subtle masters at this.

In my own church it see it most Sundays. We stand before our congregations and preach about the lofty lives we each ought to be living. We cast judgement upon those who fail to meet our standards. When do we ever consider that sitting within those congregations are suffering souls, who came to healed, not to have salt rubbed in their already agonizing wounds. We are instructed to teach nothing but the Gospel. Which is that Christ has come to Atone for our sins that He might heal our wounded souls.

Last Sunday for instance, we experienced a lengthy discussion on the keeping of covenants. Apparently, it had never occurred to us that those who keep their covenants are those whose lives have been healed by the Master's touch. And, that those who are not keeping their covenants, most of whom would love to, are so distracted by their pain and confusion that they cannot even think of doing so. This while, we continue to fail to teach them, how to allow the Savior to help them with their problems, how to rely upon His grace, how to give their troubles, pains and problems to He who suffered all things that He might succor them. Do you not suppose that they will make and keep sacred covenants, once they've been healed by the Master and are no longer distracted and crippled by their pain? How does heaping upon them obligation and expectation, they cannot conceive of accomplishing, help them recover from the agony they are experiencing?

There is no sin in ignorance and confusion, but there is sin in keeping the simple truth from those who so desperately need it. Institutionally, we do it for the same reason, poor parents do it. For the convenience. We want the problems to go away, so we do the most heinous, evil thing of all, we drive them away, rather than deal with them. We shame them instead of loving them. We treat symptoms instead of causes and conditions. We label and judge and count ourselves righteous for having "better behavior."

My biggest fear is that we have among us, hurting, suffering individuals, who are adept at pretending they have it all together. Who are so accomplished at this that they are elevated to positions of trust and praise. Who could expect these to teach of healing they know nothing of, or to understand hurting souls, who are, unlike them, unable to fake it. I was one such and it agonizes me to think of all the salt in rubbed into tender wounds, while pretending to have none of my own.

If we are to build Zion, if we are to emulate the Savior, if we are to fulfill our callings, we have need to quit measuring people and start lovingly leading them to the Healer. The rest will take care of itself. Lets stop assuming they are evil and start assuming they are hurt. Let us stop applying condemnation and shame and begin applying the Balm of Gilead. Please.

In the church we often preach of accountability. While this is a correct principle in its proper context, too often we use it as triage to eliminate the "hopeless causes" so we can move on with our success. If they never make into the hospital, they don't count against our progress. It is God's intention to save all of His children. Triage is utterly inappropriate in the Plan of Salvation.

Banging on an Empty Barrel

2011-06-27T12:03:00.005-06:00

I suffer a bit of distress since returning to my home ward. For more than six years I met for church at the local juvenile detention center. There,

"... we talk(ed) of Christ, we rejoice(ed) in Christ, we preach(ed) of Christ, we prophesy(ed) of Christ, and we wr(o)te according to our prophecies, that (we and those) children (might) know to what source (we might) look for a remission of (our) sins." (See 2 Nephi 25:26)

There we centered all of our teaching around that one central theme. If we spoke of the pioneers, it was an opportunity to show them how the Savior and His Atonement enabled them to deal with and overcome great hardship. If we spoke of captivity, bondage and addiction, it was to show them how Christ and His Infinite Sacrifice made it possible for us to obtain freedom. If we spoke about our personal relationships with others, we were able to show them how our Perfect Brother stands between us and our offender, having already paid the price of his transgression, asking us to forgive and quit seeking revenge. If we spoke of joy it was underlaid with rejoicing that Christ is the giver of joy. If we spoke of choices we spoke of He who provided that liberty to us, and He who allows us to recover from the poor choices we inevitably will make. If we spoke of love, we spoke of the Source and Epitome of love. If we spoke of fear, we comforted the fearful by testifying of the One they could always trust. If we spoke of sorrow, we spoke of He who suffered each of our sorrows. If we spoke of pain, we spoke of He who suffered each of our pains. If we spoke of prayer, we spoke of He who bears our pleas and expressions of gratitude to the throne of God. If we spoke of food, or volleyball, or music, or rain, we spoke of He who provides all good gifts in this wonderful world and who gives us the strength and light to enjoy them.

In our ward we don't seem to do that, much. My heart longs to hear of Christ, to rejoice in the Atonement that has set me free. Most of the time, instead I hear nice talks and lessons that are dressed up like pretty barrels. Barrels that speak wonderful words on topics of leadership, commitment, covenants, honesty, work for our kindred dead, charity, food storage and on and on. If these subjects are addressed without the application of the Atonement of Christ, to me, they sound like someone banging on an empty barrel. Every barrel (or subject) we present to the Latter-day Saints, ought to be filled with the Atonement of Christ. Otherwise, to me, the treatment seems empty, hollow, echoing of the conspicuous absence of He, upon whom all our obligations, possibilities, opportunities, abilities, hopes, dreams and promises lie.

There is no topic, in Heaven or Earth that ought to be addressed absent that most magnificent, universal, infinite Gift, or the majestic, sweet Giver. Doing otherwise, to me, seems to presume to take too much credit and expectation upon ourselves, who too often forget our own nothingness before Him. If we ever amount to anything, it will only be because of Him.

Sheep Herding or Shepherding?

2011-06-21T11:01:00.004-06:00

Though things have come a long long way since I was a child; if I were to make an overall assessment of the state of things at the local level in the Church, I'd still have to say that we are maintaining a culture of Sheep Herding.

Sheep Herding is distinguished by the method used to move the sheep from one destination to another. The Sheep Herder drives the sheep from behind, commonly using dogs to bark and nip at their heels. The Shepherd leads from the front inviting the trusting sheep to follow where he leads.

I do not doubt the sincerity of the Sheep Herders among us. Their intent is to take us to the same destination as the Shepherds. I just question the method. During the past week I have had conversations with three individuals who are balking at the prospect of full participation in Church activity. Each of them cited circumstances that make activity awkward, if not down right repulsive. In short they have sore heels. Their natural inclination is to avoid the Sheep Herder and his dogs and take their chances in the wilderness. I also had a conversation with a Sheep Herder, who, observing a Sheep willing to chance the wilderness, said, "Let him! I haven't got time to go chasing after him in his foolishness. I've informed him of his duty; my duty is discharged!"

To my mind, this is a bit of Babylon creeping around in the culture of Zion. Most of us in the work-a-day world are exposed to employers to ply tactics of Management By Objective. Most of them misapply MBO as it was intended. So, most of us are over exposed to a failed Leadership technique, which we despise, but having seen nothing better, continue to use.

The scenario is this: Management establishes and assigns the objectives. Labor is expected to produce the objectives and is judged, rewarded, punished or praised based upon the level to which the objectives are met. If and when the objectives are met, Management ups the ante by extending the objectives to a higher, and then higher standards. The temptation, as money is the object, is to create the objectives around productivity. Management wants the Golden Egg. Trouble is, most commonly, they want ever more eggs, while having no regard, or appropriate objectives, that apply to the proper care and feeding of the Goose. (See Stephen R. Covey, 7 Habit of Highly Effective People.)

Too often we bring MBO to church with us and apply it to our callings. We set attendance objectives, Home and Visiting Teaching objectives, service objectives, Temple attendance, and on and on. Doing so, we seem to know no other means of achieving them than barking, threatening, scolding, and demanding. The numbers become the Golden Egg and we have forgotten the Goose. We are seeking our own Salvation instead of the Salvation of the Sheep. We are quick to justify our positions with examples and scriptures. I mean was Enos not using the Sheep Herding technique when he said:

23 And there was nothing save it was exceeding harshness, preaching and prophesying of wars, and contentions, and destructions, and continually reminding them of death, and the duration of eternity, and the judgments and the power of God, and all these things—stirring them up continually to keep them in the fear of the Lord. I say there was nothing short of these things, and exceedingly great plainness of speech, would keep them from going down speedily to destruction. And after this manner do I write concerning them.

Sounds fun doesn't it? I remember as a boy this was the primary method of keeping us on the straight and narrow. Seems like every six months they trotted out Brother T. to scare the Dickens out of us with his hell-fire and damnation, end of the world, doom and gloom gospel. Hardly sounds like good news to me. When we were in Primary we loved Jesus, but by the time we finished High School we were scared to death of Him.

Sheep Herders, then and now, cannot conceive of a people who might, of their own volition, choose to follow the voice of The Shepherd. In their subtle self-righteousness they assume that they are the few, chosen to save the rest. They dare not turn and lead, for fear no one will follow. Now, perhaps the Nephites, who were still laboring under the Law of Moses, needed such an approach; but these are days when God has entrusted the fullness of His Gospel to us. Days in which the Melchizedek Priesthood is entrusted to every worthy man. Days populated with the valiant who were saved to come forth at such a time. They will follow, it is in them. If you don't believe it conduct an experiment upon my words, turn and lead in patience, meekness, gentleness, kindness, long-suffering, persuasion, love and faith. See if it is not true. It took that very experiment to persuade me, and I was amazed at the results. I have yet to be moved upon by the Holy Ghost to reprove with sharpness and suppose that to be a rare moment in the life of a Shepherd.

The numbers are not the objective. Or they should not be. Numbers are nice for measuring progress and accounting for our efforts, but they must never be the objective. We are about caring for the sheep, that is the objective. If one of the sheep is balking, or lagging behind are we too blind to see that it is hurting in some way? Are we unwilling to see to its needs? Are we so set on accomplishing our goals that we see that sheep as an hindrance, annoyance, or obstacle? Are we unwilling to fetch it from the brambles and carry it upon our shoulders for a while?

Now, fussing over this during the night I spoke with my daughter. She pointed out that I was, in my frustration, turning into a Sheep Herder, ready to nip at the heels of my fellow Shepherds. It was quite a splash of cold water. It is a tendency that lies in all of us. Foolishly, in defense of the Sheep I had allowed myself to forget the fact that the Shepherds/Sheep Herders are also Sheep. Sheep in need of nurturing and love, in need of being led by the voice of the Shepherd. It is a cultural change we all must make. It is one we will make, for we have been promised Zion. Let us each turn and lead. Let us each return and nurture. When they trust that we only wish to love and care for them, when they stop fearing and avoiding us, soon enough, they will follow.

Father's Day

2011-06-19T10:46:00.000-06:00

My youngest sent this to me for Father's Day. It made my day. It needed a little help too. I got up for Church and developed a nose bleed. An hour later it still hadn't stopped. So I sit here in the recliner, feeling sorry for myself and this little video appears on Facebook. Now my eyes and nose are running.

Thank you darlin', I love you too!

The Trouble With Should

2011-06-18T11:34:00.004-06:00

The trouble with should is sometimes we shouldn't. We have a tendency in LDS Culture to list for each other the things we should be doing. Most Sacrament Meeting talks and Gospel Doctrine lessons develop into lists of things we should do and often even into litanies of where, when and how often.

Recently in Priesthood meeting we were all apprised of how often we each should attend the Temple. As if each of our lives was the same and that no excuse would do for not meeting the requirement. Now, this zealous advocate of temple attendance did not cite his source for such a schedule, but presented it as though our very Eternal Salvation depended upon compliance. You must realize that we old High Priests are about worn out when it comes to such demands. I could see it run off our backs like water off a duck. This only increased the pitch and intensity of our fellow's demand, for he too could see our reaction.

Now, don't get me wrong. I too am an advocate of Temple attendance. I too believe that most of us fail to attend as often as the Lord would like. But, I also realize that a few of us attend too often, driven there by guilt and shame, rather than drawn there by love and devotion. Can you see how different Temple worship might be if you were attracted there by love rather than driven there by guilt? Couple that with the very real possibility that you or I might occasionally have something more important to attend to than even the Temple.

I am not about setting us up for excuses to neglect our duty. No, I am actually advocating for doing our duty. I just hope we will learn to discern between the manipulative demands of a fellow Saint and the kindly invitation of a loving Father. Sometimes the gulf between the two is alarmingly broad. Our duty is to God, not to folks who presume to know what God wants for us individually. These are folks who assume that the prescription for their glasses will also allow everyone else to see with equal clarity. For some reason, these seem to be the most zealous. They seem to say, "You obviously don't read as well as I. I'm sure it is because you're not wearing my glasses." When we tell them we see just fine, or that their glasses blur our vision, or that their glasses give us migraines, they seem to say, "Nonsense! They work just fine for me, how could they not work for you as well!"

Trouble is, I see many in the Kingdom, who are going about wearing someone else's glasses much of the time. They seem exhausted, burned out, and of course some have just taken the glasses off and gone home having abandoned hope that they can get it right. Had they been taught to seek the optometrist who could prescribe lenses especially for them and their particular needs, many, if not all might be joyfully serving with light and hopeful hearts instead of trudging along with a strain much more devastating than eye strain.

We believe in revelation in the Church. We believe that God will guide our steps and direct our paths. But we, all too often, go about treating one another like we're the only one who gets revelation and that we are somehow authorized to receive revelation for one another. True testimony, true trust in our Father in Heaven is an individual thing. How dare we presume to know what is best for another. That is, speaking of fellow Saints. It is one thing to follow the Prophet, who is authorized to receive revelation for us. It is quite another to follow Brother So-and-So, who is not.

When Saints write Salt Lake City and ask for specific direction in their lives, the Brethren always refer us to our local leaders or directly to the Lord. Why is it that so many ordinary members presume to give specific direction that even the prophets and apostles are loath to provide.

I once had a spiritual emergency transpire at home. It occurred just prior to our Quarterly Stake Priesthood meeting. It had been my intention to attend the meeting. In fact I was so set upon attendance that I quite curtly put the problem aside, dressed for the meeting and headed out the door. The Spirit whispered a number of times that I must stay at home and attend to a priority the Lord had set for me. I, however, was insistent upon compliance with a priority someone else had set for me. The Spirit persisted and half way out the driveway, I shifted gears, parked the car and went back into my home. Later, I was approached by a rather unhappy leader, who, pointing out my absence at the meeting exclaimed with disdain that I, "should have been there." Not wanting to seem rebellious, I quietly pointed out that, "No, I shouldn't have been, the Lord had another, more pressing errand for me." My answer was inconceivable to him. He considered it his duty to make me feel guilty for my transgression and still, after many years, seeks to ride herd on my behavior.

I love that man. I know his intentions are good. I admire his service in the Kingdom. But, I also have observed that he seems increasingly frustrated at the response he gets from his fellow Saints and how isolated he has become in his sense of righteousness.

When we are called upon to "stand a little taller," to "lengthen our stride," by prophets we love, we are also expected to take the implied latitude and personal initiative those statements allow and seek personal, spiritual direction in how to do that.

When you have 4.85 children and your husband has been out of town all week on business and the fridge is empty and the Relief Society calls for a pan of funeral potatoes, maybe the Spirit will whisper, "You should." But please don't feel guilty if He whispers, "You shouldn't."

Breather

2011-06-17T03:45:00.002-06:00

I've been over-wound like a clock spring lately. It has made me less productive, instead of energetic. Thankfully, Sweetie remedied that by taking me out of town for a couple of days. We had an errand, but mostly it was a chance to decompress. Getting out of town actually wound things up a couple of pops and driving tired (not sleepy) didn't help, especially in city traffic. I don't think the relief began to reveal itself until we found ourselves sitting in the shade outside Panda Express, with full stomachs and a little time on our hands.

From the patio we could see the still snow covered Wasatch in all it's glory. The air was cool, clear and gentle. We were far enough south in Salt Lake Valley that we could see Lady Timpanogos lying peacefully off by herself. Somehow her majesty comforts me from every angle. She speaks of independence, solitude, peace, and assurance.

We had already stopped by Barnes and Noble and selected a couple of books. From there we'd headed up Mill Creek to find a shady spot to read while the stream burbled by. Instead we found congestion, distraction and the creek roaring in fury. The biggest distraction was a man who'd taken his five year old down the water to play. This after four children have already drown in the heavy spring runoff. Too tired, too distracted to read we gave up quite earlier than we'd expected. Funny how sitting beside a busy street with stomachs full of plump shrimp and luscious chicken we found what we'd sought in the "wilderness."

At Mark's we were primed to kick back in his overstuffed recliners, and mutter our contentment around an episode of Blue Bloods. A rerun we hadn't seen, amazingly!

Then, it was early to bed, exhausted, in his cool basement, where I slept through the night for the first time in months. (It's 2:43 AM right now. Yup, I'm back home and up in the night. Bad dream about self torture. Not in the mood to make interpretations. So I thought I go back a day to decompress some more while the memories are still fresh.)

We slept in much of the morning. Sweetie longer than I. Long enough for me to get hooked on Amy Tan's wonderful The Hundred Secret Senses; making me wonder if I'm carrying the load of generations, not just my own.

We grabbed a quick bite at Wendy's which miraculously was near a fabric store with good prices on fat quarters. Sweetie only selected four. She's so much more moderate than I.

I have quite recently discovered that my great great grandmother Maria Weber came to the States from Switzerland along with my great grand parents. I had always supposed she'd stayed in the old country as her husband did. After traveling to Michigan, Ontario and Quebec seeking the graves of my predecessors I have thought it silly not to have visited Maria's. We drove to the Salt Lake Cemetery, which I had not seen before as it lies up in the Avenues, off the beaten track. A lovely place it is. The clerk in the Sexton's office was wonderfully helpful and set me promptly on a course to discover her headstone. A simple little marker calls her Mary and indicates she lived from 1822 until 1903. She appears to be buried next to her daughter Eliza. More on that it a separate post. Give me a couple of days. I've got to get some sleep and a funeral taken care of.

On the way to cemetery we stopped at Les Madeline's for some Kouey Amans and as usual, they were sold out. We did grab a couple of raspberry buttons and two rosemary cookies for the road though. Without much more ado we headed up the canyon for home intending to stop in Heber for lunch. Steve had informed us that some world traveler and so "qualified," connoisseur had recommended The Side Track Cafe as the place to eat in the area. He was not wrong. We stopped in and enjoyed Janine's J9 Garlic Burger with Cry Sauce (as it is hotter (and better) than Fry Sauce). We also enjoyed Janine. A rustic little character in cut offs and a T-shirt. Enough to cover most of her tats. Janeen learned to cook from her Italian Grandmother and her Filipina Mother. But her culinary style is all her own. We struck up a conversation and wound up with her full attention for well over half an hour. She taught Sweetie the ins and outs of Ceviche and coached me on the finer elements of great black beans. She told us stories of her mother's captivation by the Japanese in WWII and her heroics while nine months pregnant. She pointed out a photo of her mom in which she actually does look like a Filipina Annette Funicello. I could see neither Filipina, nor Annette in J9. She also has a photo of four gangster uncles hanging on the wall. They looked like quintessential Mafioso and like you'd like to eat where they ate (if you could breathe the air.) Again, when there's time, I'll devote a little more time to The Side Track Cafe and it's unique proprietor. I expect she'll still know our names six months from now when we stop in again. That is if we can wait that long.

I had to get home to a Meeting at seven, but that afforded time to divert from Highway 40 at the Tabby turn off and to drive down the Duchesne River canyon and observe the flooding. Lots of fields are underwater, but so far no homes or buildings seem too threatened. The "Goldy Locks" weather is just right for easing the snow pack down slowly. Hope it lasts or Duchesne City will most certainly get wet.

I made my Meeting, which also relieves a lot of stress and while sitting there had a bit of an epiphany. When you're immersed in stress, you can't dry off until you get out of the water. Thanks Sweetie for pulling my out of the water and for tossing me a towel.

P.S. The Raspberry Buttons were heavenly and the Rosemary Cookies, unbelievably good!

Something Good

2011-06-15T04:44:00.007-06:00

In the popular television series The Middle is a character I adore. His name is Brick, played by Atticus Shaffer. Brick is the cutest little kid, with a brilliant mind and a quirky little habit I love. When Brick makes an observation, he often bows his head and repeats his declaration in a whisper. It is rather like Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer, when they are singing: "Somewhere in my youthful childhood, I must have done something good. Something good." Another great character is Squid, from Larry Barkdull's Cold Train Coming. Squid also has Brick's habit of repeating himself, to himself.

I doubt if the creators of these two characters are even aware of their coincidental similarities. This makes me wonder if the behavior depicted is a common tic or quirk. Probably some psychologist, somewhere has described the phenomena and named it some syndrome or other. If it hasn't been named yet, it will probably become known as Brick Syndrome. Personally, I'd rather not know about any of that. I like the quirk because it seems so pleasantly self affirming. Comforting. Brick and Squid and Maria need assurance that they understand something correctly. So do I.

I had such an affirmation yesterday. I was in a conversation with a dear friend of an other religious persuasion than my own. She is not affiliated with a church, but is deeply spiritual. She has a well founded aversion to organized religion. Organized religion, in general, has not made much of a name for itself. Today, she zeroed in on a particular problem in the LDS Church, with which, if her observations are correct, I could only agree. She was exasperated that a young woman, presently in her care, had been sexually abused by her father, a prominent member of the church. She claims that the girl had sought help from her Bishop, who instead sided with the Father, and never reported even the possibility of the abuse to the authorities. While that is unacceptable on the part of the Bishop, I also realize I am only hearing one side of the story. Still, taking the story at face value, my friend has a legitimate beef with the Church, especially since her experience has persuaded her that such problems are endemic; a further conclusion with which I whole-heartedly disagree.

We most certainly are going to experience calumny as Joseph Smith predicted, since we are a church operated by flawed and imperfect individuals who, when all is said and done, still have our agency. Never-the-less, it is my conviction that the Latter-day Saints are no less than outstanding in their remarkable devotion and determination to love and lift and brighten the world around them. Typically, Latter-day Saints seek to do the right thing!

Shortly after the aforementioned conversation, Dora phoned to tell me Rex had passed away. His devastating illness had come on quite suddenly and had taken his life in just a month. During that month, their home has been graced with repeated visits from their Bishop, their Home Teachers, Visiting Teachers, High Priests Group Leadership, fellow Sisters from the Relief Society and brothers from the High Priests Quorum and, of course the Spirit of the Lord. They have been given blessings, loaves of bread, meals, even assistance and instruction in Rex's bedside care. They've been given phone numbers to call, day or night, listening ears, affirming testimonies and enduring, timely love.

Perhaps we have our wicked moments,
Our times when things aren't going so good;
But somehow in the fabric of all we're about
There's mainly just a pattern of good.

Something good!

A Sunday Stroll

2011-06-12T21:51:00.003-06:00

Sweetie has left me home alone while she goes out of town to a funeral. I don't like being away from her, or vice versa. As she drove away, feeling a bit melancholy, I sat down to the computer to play a little solitaire. I didn't make it through one game before I knew I'd better get up and do something, or I might go mad.

I decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood. I had no agenda. I wanted an adventure. A neighborhood adventure. G. K. Chesterton once wrote:

"By asking for pleasure, we lose the chief pleasure, for the chief pleasure is surprise."

I wanted surprise. I wanted to just go for a walk and be surprised by what came of it. What a pleasure!
What a surprise!

As I walked past Virginia's house, I had a notion that I might stop and see if she'd made it home from the Care Center, where I saw her last. Sure enough! She's still spending most of her time in a wheel chair but is practicing with the walker a little more each day. Beau is taking such good care of her. I've not met Beau before. Virginia and Beau have created some kind of symbiotic relationship that is a mystery to me, but seems to work wonderfully for them. She's probably 20 years his senior. Beau grew up on the Crow Creek Reservation in South Dakota. Having spent some time on the Rose Bud Reservation myself we had a jumping off place for a wonderful conversation and chance to get acquainted. The Sioux are such a noble people. Beau was surprised to learn that I had helped carve the Crazy Horse monument. (I paid $10.00 to push the plunger on a preset dynamite charge, which I watched from the Visitor's Center.) That was 40 years ago, when there was nothing recognizable emerging from that mountain of stone. I was surprised to see Virginia so well and to find such a great new friend in Beau. Virginia was surprised to learn how sick Rex is.

I bade them farewell intending to check on Rex next. On the sidewalk I encountered Ann and Rachael walking little Landyn around the block. Turns out they were headed for Rex and Dora's too. We went together. Landyn is getting so talkative! What a cute little fellow. Arriving together I had a chance to introduce the sisters to Darrin, who I chatted with as the gals commiserated with Dora. Rex is failing and getting in two visits for the stress of one was probably a good thing. We didn't stay long, but were comforted to find Dora feeling better and Darrin so ably easing her burden.

Parting ways again, I moseyed on down the street until I was startled by a rather formidable, "Woof!" A Bull Mastiff was saying hello over a fence ridiculously shorter than he was. His owner was smoking on the front porch and tried to set my nerves at ease. We introduced ourselves. His name was Scott. We quickly made connections to relatives of his in Tridell and struck up an immediate friendship. Single and young, Scott is a bit of an anomaly on his street where most of the residents are in their eighties or nineties. I was surprised at how protective he was of those old folks that surround him. He let me know that he was proud to have played a part in putting the druggies in the house across the street into jail, away from these sweet old folks who "need their peace and quiet

On down the street I encountered Tanner giving his little sisters a ride in a trailer behind his bike. They stopped for a visit and those precious little sweet hearts were so polite and dignified in their delight. Tanner, seasoned beyond his years, is one of my favorites. Fellow flautists (amateur at best) there seems to be an age old bond between us. Such a surprise, because we've only known one another a few months. We didn't talk long, rickshaws are only fun if they're moving.

The other night I watched The King's Speech on television and decided I'd better go compare notes with John. I asked if he'd seen the movie yet. "Don't need to!" was his reply, "I was there!" Of course I already knew that and John knew I did. But when you've been witness to one of the greatest moments in history, you've got to glory in it every chance you get. We had fun bantering about the significance of that moment and of all the wonderful things God had done to bring it about. Some people might believe in coincidences, but John and I don't. An hour's conversation flashed by in what seemed like ten minutes. I had been mildly rebuked in Priesthood Meeting by Billy and I decided I'd better get on over there and take my licks, so I excused myself from John's pleasant company and headed around the corner.

Billy was out watching a sprinkler cycle, having just got back from gathering the Bishop's Store House orders for tomorrow's grocery run. What a fine, fine man. He didn't beat me up at all. Just wanted to emphasize mine and everyone else's need to try just a bit harder to build the Kingdom. Push me, Billy, push me, I need all the help I can get.

And so it went, my little walk full of unexpected blessings. No more melancholy. I guess I'll be just fine. The chief pleasure is surprise!

Thank you Arnie, Thank You!

2011-06-11T17:41:00.003-06:00

Arnie Anthon is about the nicest guy you'll ever meet. He's our local Frito-Lay distributor. I hardly ever go to the grocery store without seeing Arnie busily stocking the chip aisle.

About five years ago at my favorite little lunch spot in Jensen, Utah, Arnie surprised us with a display of Lay's Dill Pickle chips. I tried them and fell in love. Anything dill is alright with me. I love my wife's dilly bread. One of my favorite memories is delivering packages to Split Mountain Green House in the fall when their dill patch leaned over the sidewalk. As I walked to and fro past the dill weed the aroma of dill brushed off the plants on my pant-legs. It was an olfactory delight I looked forward to every year.

As suddenly as Dill Pickle chips arrived on the scene, they also vanished. I was devastated. I no longer enjoyed the Roast Beef sandwich Monica made fresh for me every day, quite so much. The next time I saw Arnie I let him have it, and the next and the next, in fact until this very day.

Now, I don't suppose Arnie had anything to do with the disappearance of Dill Pickle chips, but hey, somebody had to hear about it. And Arnie did. Patiently, week after week he has endured my complaints. He was given a reprieve during the six weeks I was gone to Newfoundland. Not me. In the Maritimes they had every flavor of potato chips imaginable. They had Fries and Gravy, Ketchup, Wasabi, Pizza, Salsa, and another favorite, Poutine. But no Dill Pickle! You wouldn't believe the variety of chips they have up north. Those I mentioned plus all the regulars. One of the big draws Canada holds for me is the food. Up there food is celebrated in a way we here in the US can only dream about. We must trudge along with three or four flavors of chips for example, when in Canada even the smallest store carries a dozen flavors of just potato chips. Arnie has heard about this too. You can imagine how utterly disappointed I was that Dill Pickle was not a favorite of the Canucks.

Well, today, walking down the chip aisle, still hopeful as ever, my wondering eyes beheld Dill Pickle chips! I STOCKED UP! Hurrying home I ran right to the phone and called Arnie. You see, I am a whiner, but I am not an ingrate. I want Arnie to know that he has made my day, week, month, year and possibly even my decade! Thank you, Arnie, Thank you, from the bottom of the bag!

Book Review - The Dead Town by Dean Koontz

2011-06-09T22:24:00.006-06:00

The last of Dean Koontz's Frankenstein series was very much the best! I have looked forward to it for a long while and was not disappointed. He culminated the story with brilliance and finesse.

I say this all the time, but must repeat it here. Dean speaks to me like no other writer. Each book is as though we are having a private, familiar and friendly conversation. His distinctive voice is apparent on every page. It warms my heart as I sit down for a visit with my good old friend.

A couple of quotations are in order and speak of the clarity of Koontz's thought and the depth of his wisdom:

"So putting ourselves through the what-if wringer until we're all wrung out--well, that's just a hellacious waste of time and energy."

"The world needed a little Evil, so Good had something to compare itself to, but you couldn't let it think it had the right-of-way on the road and an invitation to dinner."

This was one of those books you can't put down, but dread it's coming to an end. Sigh.

There are five books in the series; all first printed in paperback. Don't let that throw you. These are some of Koontz's best work. You don't have to have read Shelley's Frankenstein first, but it helps.

I love how Koontz shows evil for what it is and clearly demonstrates why evil is always bound to fail. Of course he shows good accurately as well and contrasts the two with brilliance, truth, clarity, humor and certainty.

As for characters? This series has some of my all time favorites, like Jocko the tumor. Jocko is one of the most endearing monsters in all of literature. Each character has purpose in the theme of Koontz's books and as they develop and grow in integrity, or evil, we learn so much about ourselves.

Five Stars

Barking Dogs

2011-06-08T12:57:00.006-06:00

30 years ago I bought a house in a quiet neighborhood in town. One neighbor had a house dog, a poodle, which she kept indoors. Another had a dog that upended my trash can every time we tossed bones from KFC. Eventually, I took the chicken bones directly over to him. That solved the problem.

Now-a-days my neighborhood has filled up with dogs. Most of them are pathetic creatures locked or chained in backyards. Fed and watered and neglected. These bark night and day and since we've begun spending our time in the backyard, we are forced to endure a continuous cacophony of woofs, barks, howls, yelps, wines, and whimpers. One pathetic creature is an absolute drama queen moaning, groaning, whining even crying for attention.

One neighbor has two kids and a dog. Neither the parents, nor the kids, have any meaningful association with this dog. The kids have to play in the front yard because the dog poop covers the backyard and wafts unpleasantly around the neighborhood. That and because the kids don't want to be pestered by the love starved mutt. I cannot for the life of me, come up with a notion as to what motivates people to own a dog they want nothing to do with. Dog food is not cheap.

At this very moment I can hear not less than eight different dogs barking around the hood. My understanding is that the city has an ordinance allowing for fines to folks whose dogs bark between the hours of 10:00 PM and 6:00 AM. It doesn't seem to be helping much. When I am awakened by a dog I have tried to avoid troubling the owners as I'd like to be considered a good neighbor.

It became so problematic night before last that I called Central Dispatch who sent an officer around to the primary culprit's home and thankfully, the problem was resolved. I settled down after a couple of hours and got back to sleep.

I hate to characterize my neighbors, but considering that my neighbors have ears much like mine, I can't help but wonder what is going on in their heads. Is this commotion somehow music to their ears? Has our inner city been infiltrated by Red Necks? If I confront them about their inconsiderate intrusion into my quiet life, will I be challenged with fists or a shot gun?

I'd call for them to consider their rude, thoughtless intrusion into the lives of those around them, but I suspect they don't read the paper, as I can't imagine that thinking, informed citizens would be so obnoxious.

I think the police will help me manage the night-time problem; but what can I do about the more problematic day-time annoyance?

In the day-time hours people are typically gone and make no attempt to silence their noisy critters.

As a child I was taught in civics that one person's right to swing his fist ends shy of the other person's nose. Does this not apply to noise, stench and allowing their dog to trot over to crap on my lawn instead of their own?

I suggest that dealing with this problem would be in the Vernal City's best interest. Charging fines for day-time, as well as night-time barking, could help pay for the palace they've built for themselves when most of us can ill afford to pay for it. Additionally, how about a sin tax on dog food. Children are starving in this country in the millions while dog food is a billion dollar industry. Since the city lives on sales tax a special tax on dog food might cause people to consider the value of feeding a mutt they make no good use of. There could be exemptions for service dogs, and dogs actually used for companionship instead of background noise, fertilizer and aroma therapy.

Quite often I find people yelling at their dogs. Rarely, do I find a dog that listens. Usually, it appears the dog thinks the yelling means he is not barking loud enough. I don't think a dog is fairly treated if he becomes the scapegoat for all of his owner's pent up emotions. Though, I'd rather the dog "get it" than the kids. Of course those who yell at their dogs yell at their kids too, who don't listen either.

I have a friend who is currently in trouble for taking noisy dog matters into his own hands. I think I'll not be doing that. But Central Dispatch is going to know me by name before the next few weeks are over.

Now Let Us Rejoice!

2011-05-30T05:39:00.001-06:00

I was a bit amused while sitting in Sacrament Meeting yesterday. We were singing the opening hymn. It was Now Let Us Rejoice! The chorister had a pleasant, happy smile, but the Bishopric and a member of the Stake Presidency each had a somber, resolute, and heavy browed expression on his face as we sang those thrilling words. They did not appear to be rejoicing. They looked as if the weight of the world lay upon their shoulders.

Several weeks ago we were singing There Is Sunshine In My Soul Today when I noticed the same phenomena and a Counselor in the Bishopric happened to notice my amused smile. He misinterpreted it to mean that I had sunshine in my soul. Actually, I was just tickled at the huge contrast between their expressions and the words we were singing. When he stood to conduct the meeting he drew attention my countenance as it related to the bright and cheerful song and I was a bit embarrassed that I had been smiling for the wrong reason.

Since that day, I have tried to be in the moment as we sing the hymns and to think more directly about what we are singing. Often the songs we sing in our worship services are positive, bright, happy, rejoicing songs. They should be sung in a positive, bright, happy, rejoicing sort of way. They are much more fun to sing in that manner. The key, I suspect, lies in being in the moment. Who knows where the thoughts of these fine brethren were as that song was being sung. Perhaps the Bishop was concerned about someone he saw, or didn't see, in the congregation. Perhaps the First Counselor was concerned about getting the tithing counted quickly so he could get home to spend time with his visiting relatives. Clearly, they were bearing burdens that weighed heavily upon them. Or at least they were so accustomed to doing so, that such expressions had cast, that most common countenance, as the default expression on their faces. Happiness, rejoicing can only be experienced in the present. It is likely that while their mouths were singing the words, their minds were far away, actually carrying the burdens of their callings and concerns. My heart goes out to them.

After yesterday's meeting I spoke with another fellow and commented on the dark circles under his eyes. "I haven't been sleeping lately," was his reply. When I asked if he wasn't feeling well he answered, "Dealing with a lot of stress lately." He too appears to be carrying the weight of the world.

In John 16:33 Jesus said:

These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.

Here in this verse the Savior gives us a commandment we seem reluctant to obey, "Be of good cheer." Jesus carried the weight of the world so we don't have to. That is why there is sunshine in my soul today.

I don't wish to pick on the leaders in my Ward. They are wonderful people. There is no question about their sincerity, integrity, courage or faith. I just think they are taking a bit too much upon themselves in their earnest desire to serve the Lord by serving us. It is time to be of good cheer! Come on Latter-day Saints, now let us rejoice! When Jesus shows His smiling face there is sunshine in my soul. How about yours?

My Father's 89th Birthday

2011-05-24T08:40:00.001-06:00

My father wasn't perfect, but he was ideal. Ideal for me that is. For a long time I didn't understand this truth. Certainly, he could have handled things better; but there is not a father in the world, including myself, who hasn't made myriad mistakes raising his children.

I have judged him pretty harshly over the years, holding him to a pretty tough standard. Doing so has only hurt me.

There was no owners manual that came with my model. He had no specific reference he could look up when I ran sluggishly, broke down, had sticky brakes, or a stuck accelerator. Neither was there a warranty on my failed paint job. Further, he only knew how to parent from his own, limited, experience. That method seemed to work very well when raising him; so it must work similarly with his kids. So he used horse and buggy experience for tuning up a '56 Chev, so to speak. In truth, each generation's experience is out of date. Which, I believe is how God intended things to be.

Ether 12:27 explains that God gives men weakness. I believe His number one conduit for delivering that great gift to His children is through their mortal parents. Weakness is vital to the Plan of Happiness. Against what will we become strong? Against our weakness. Today, I feel a special debt of gratitude to my imperfect father, who endowed me with weakness of my own. And to my kind wise Heavenly Father for turning many of those weaknesses of character and prowess into vital, blessed strengths. For me, it is not so much that I am pleased with the strengths I've been given as consequence of God's goodness, rather, I joy in the process of growth and discovery. Central to that process has been the discovery of my utter and complete need for a Savior. My father, in his own weakness, gave me the best possible chance to discover my need for God's Grace in my life. Thank you Dad. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

It's Raining

2011-05-18T10:36:00.000-06:00

While we hear and discuss a lot about the weather and, while there is cause for concern as the mountains are loaded with snow and the threat of flooding increases with the rain and delayed warm-up and, while rain dampens various plans and cancels baseball games and picnics and, while there is something to be said for sunny days; I live in the desert and I love the rain.

I'll gladly take it when I can get it.

Last night I went for a walk in it. I like that thought. I am not in the rain drops, or the clouds. The rain is not just the rain drops or the clouds. The rain is everything including the rain drops and clouds. It is the wet pavement, the drowning worms, the smell of ozone, the smell of mud. It is expanding rings it makes in puddles and the thankful croaking of frogs. It is the burbling brook. It is the overflowing river. It is the green grass and the blossoming trees, and their perfume. It is free and is a gift and always comes from above. It is fresh and clean and cleansing. It is life and renewal and full of hope and promise.... And I...I am IN IT!

I will not refuse it on the wettest days nor demand it on the driest. As I said I live in the desert and those dry days, make these wet ones all the more precious. The Navajo say that THIS is good weather and right they are! Sunshine is also a gift from God, and I love it. But this, more rare gift, is more priceless to me because it is rare.

God is in the gift and right now, I'm headed back out so I can be in it too!

Thank God for sending rain and for making me waterproof!

Sucking Hind Teat

2011-05-03T14:04:00.003-06:00

The process of recovery from addiction and other weakness was once described to me as "peeling off the layers of an onion." As soon as I get some semblance of recovery from one character weakness and peel it away, I become exposed to another. The deeper I go the more fundamental the problem. As in onions this process usually brings a few tears.

I am grateful for this awareness, because I'm finally learning what to do as the next layer of weakness gets exposed. I am finally able to believe that even this new problem is surmountable.

Ether 12:27 states:

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.

Thank Heaven I can discover my weakness one layer at a time! The current layer is overwhelming enough by it's self. I'd hate to have to deal with it and all the others at the same time.

The current layer seems pretty complex and very deeply rooted in my personality and nature. I'm just beginning to discover what it is. I discovered it last week when, while speaking in Sacrament Meeting on the Atonement, I felt my message was being rejected by the audience. Perhaps not all of them, but a large number. When I speak in Church I always prepare my remarks so I can look into the eyes of the congregation rather than at a paper lying upon the pulpit. It enables me to interact with the audience and to gage their reception of my message. Normally, I get good interaction from a goodly number of attentive participants. This time was different. Few would make eye contact with me. Those who did, seemed wearied by my words. I came away feeling rejected and dejected. I had been pleased with my message and with the preparation I had done. I had gone into the meeting with the confidence of having received the assurance of the Spirit that my message had the approbation of the Lord. So I was very troubled by the reception the message received. Though I felt my message was correct and approved of the Lord, I felt an overwhelming urge to apologize for it.

Later in the week, I attended my Grandson's Pinewood Derby contest at Cub Scout Pack Meeting. He lost and was miserable. I was miserable too. It was my first Pinewood Derby since my own Cub Scout days. Back then, my Dad, being a traveling salesman, was unable to help me with my car. I lost and added another failure to what was already becoming a long list of failures. I could see the same dejection through my grandson's tears. I stood there feeling helpless and wondered if it was just our family's lot to (please pardon the expression) suck hind teat. I was already certain that it was my lot and I grieved that yet another generation might be relegated to the same status.

For you who didn't grow up on a farm, may I explain the expression. Hogs have large liters of pigs. Each sow has two long rows of teats from which the piglets suckle. The the fore teats are larger, easier to use and yield more volume and nutrition. The piglets vie for the best positions and the weaker are pushed and driven to settle for what they can get at the hind teat.

That seemed to always be where I found myself in life's pecking order. I was chosen last for the ball games we played and never seemed to be victorious or fully successful at anything. I may have mentioned this before. In fact I thought I had dealt with this before. There is however an aspect that never occurred to me until this week.

My father had an older brother who went off to California and became a millionaire. His younger brother did much the same. Those two families seemed to have everything we did not. We did without, while they enjoyed a great abundance. Dad never dissed on the younger brother for reasons I can only guess. Quite often though, he would point out that the the older brother had lots of family problems that ended in divorce from his wife and estrangement from his children. Dad would always say, referring to his present and embraced family, "I am far richer than Gerry will ever be." I believed him then, and I believe him now.

Trouble is, I began to see settling for less of what the world has to offer as being more righteous. I didn't envy those who had more abundance and success than I; rather, I felt sorry for them. Further, every time I approached my own success, I subconsciously sabotaged it. None, of this was ever consciously analysed, or deliberately accomplished, but subconsciously I have persuaded myself that I must not succeed. The apparent consequence in my life is that I seldom finish anything. I dropped out of college after three and a half years. I quit job after job just as I was making head way. My one attempt at business failed miserably. I have written several books to near completion. But I have never finished a single one. I even quit trying on the last one feeling myself to be unworthy if I did.

I was now just consoling myself by saying, "You finished Sweetie's sewing room." But I didn't. It still needs paint on the door and a door knob. "Okay, but you finished her study." Nope there's a cupboard that needs paint on the frame and a door. "How about your study?" No again. There's one whole shelf that is left undone. I think I would feel guilty if I finished it, or the greater project that is the rest of our unfinished house. After all success is wickedness and failure is righteousness, or as Katie just put it, "Being a Weirdo, is good."

Over all these years as I processed sucking on the hind teat; I first concluded that I was getting by just fine on the hind teat of life. Additionally, I promised I would never be the ignorant pig who would shove someone weaker than myself to the back of the line. Pretty soon, that led to voluntarily giving up my place in line to someone weaker in addition to the "pathetic" strong ones. That led to a sense of self-righteousness; which made me feel good about my lot in life. I was proud to be sucking the hind teat! I not only pitied those who got more, I rejected more when it was offered to me. I still do.

Now, while I have a long way to go in overcoming this nature, this weakness; I thank God that I am mature and experienced enough to understand a few things. First, life is not a competition! There is abundance in the world even now. My success doesn't have to preclude someone else's. Second, not everyone who has succeeded in life has done it by shoving me or anyone else down to a lower station. Third, Lehi promised that keeping the commandments would lead to prosperity. There is no sin in success and....there is no righteousness in settling for less than the abundant prosperity the Lord has offered to those who love Him; be that success physical or spiritual.

Understanding this and being aware of the false beliefs that have informed my life is a great first step. Awareness is a big key to making changes. Still, I am certain that I am going to need the Lord's help. Steps six and seven of the 12 Steps as listed in the LDS Addiction Recovery Manual are as follows:

Step 6 - Become entirely ready to have the Lord remove all your character weaknesses.
Step 7 - Humbly ask Heavenly Father to remove your shortcomings.

I believe in these principles. As Moroni explained in Ether 12:27, God has shown me some more of my character weaknesses. I am becoming willing and ready to have them removed. It is God who removes them. It is remarkable to me that the word here is shortcomings. I have come up short all of my life and not known that it has been a result of my own erroneous belief systems. This kind of thinking is certainly a shortcoming and coming short is the result.

So, Osama Bin Laden is Dead

2011-05-02T07:27:00.001-06:00

Ten years, thousands of lives, billions of dollars later, was it worth it? Have we really accomplished anything? Is the world a better place than it would have been had we left the vengeance to the Lord (to whom it belongs, by the way)? Does any one think Osama's demise leaves an unfilled vacuum? How many additional enemies have we made? How many more kids go to bed at night mourning the loss of a father? Did defending ourselves from terrorists require all this? Does anyone feel safer? Satisfied? In what way is YOUR life better because Osama Bin Laden is dead?

Book Review - A Cold Train Coming by Larry Barkdull

2011-04-18T14:10:00.001-06:00

I have often read and enjoyed Larry Barkdull's articles in Meridian Magazine. His thoughts on rescuing wayward children seem correct and are very inspirational.

Because of my interest in his articles, I was tickled to discover a book he wrote had somehow made it's way on to our book shelf. (Booklogged obtains books from everywhere. No telling where this one came from).

I finished it today, while waiting for drywall mud to dry. It was wet and stormy outside and cozying up with a good book seemed just the ticket.

It is Fall in Ft. Benton, Montana, 1942. The war is raging and 14 year old Ben Colby is in love. He is also in turmoil. His father has depression. His mother is overwhelmed. His brother is ill. Money is tight. Tensions are high. And a cold train is approaching through mounds of isolating snow. Trying to make sense of it all, Ben writes letters to God. He gets no answers...Or does he? That pretty much encapsulates the story, but really, the story is about a dog named Shep...Or is it?

I enjoyed this novel very much.

Four Stars ****

I Have an Ancestor Who Came Over on the Mayflower

2011-04-09T22:27:00.000-06:00

This evening, Sweetie and I were watching Who Do You Think You Are. In this episode Ashley Judd is researching her ancestors. She follows her family into New England and eventually traces them to the Plymouth Colony and to one William Brewster who came over on the Mayflower. It was pretty exciting because she learned a lot about William's story, the religious persecution he suffered and his imprisonment in England before being able to leave for America.

I began to wonder if any of my fairly recently discovered New England lines might trace back to the same voyage. Statistically it is not that much of stretch to be among the descendants of those few. Each generation is currently adding thousands to their descendants. I remember taking a genealogy class at BYU where the professor explained that it is a statistical impossibility, for example, that anyone out of Europe was not a descendant of Charlemagne. Each generation results in myriad more families marrying into his lines. With that notion in mind, I suspected that such might also be the case with the Plymouth Colony.

I went to http://new.familysearch.org and clicked on my own family tree. Knowing which lines go into New England I began to examine each seeking those that lead, first, into Massachusetts.  In moments I found some and not only did a line lead back to the Plymouth Colony but actually lead to the very same William Brewster!
What a thrill to be sitting here watching my very distant cousin Ashley Judd walk into the very jail cell in which Brewster and William Bradford had been incarcerated.

It is one thing to know their names, but to see their places and hear their stories, is my favorite part of Family History.

For those of you who are related to me, here's how it goes:

   William Brewster came to Plymouth, Massachusetts on the Mayflower in 1620. His son
   Jonathan Brewster, 1593-1659, presumably came with him. He is buried in New London, CT (that's
   info for you Steve). His daughter
   Mary Brewster, 1627-1645, died in Plymouth, MA. Her son
   Ezekiel Turner, 1650-1703, died in New London, CT. His daughter
   Lucretia Turner, 1698-1756, also died in New London , CT. Her son
   William Calkins, 1724-1762, died in New London, CT. His daughter
   Temperence Calkins, 1758-1785, died in Brome, Quebec (I think). her son
   Stephen Scoville, 1783-1869, died in Scugog, Ontario. His son
   Oliver T. H. Scoville, 1824-1894, is buried in Unionville, MI. He was a Civil War Vet. His daughter
   Amaressa Scoville, 1844-1872, she is buried next to her parents in Unionville, MI. Her daughter
   Mary Elizabeth Beattie, 1875-1904, she is buried in Afton, WY. Her daughter
   Hazel Beattie Brown Dabel, 1897-1968, she is buried in Freedom, WY. Her son
   Winslow B. Weber, 1922-1999 is also buried in Freedom, WY. His son is
   ME!

Now, as I traced this back to me I found a few date mistakes and find myself a bit skeptical the Ezekiel Scoville, husband of Temperence Calkins is actually Stephen Scoville's father. I've been trying to decide a family to work on for the Family History Class I'm currently taking and think I now have my answer. I need to be sure of the parentage of Stephen Scoville. Pretty fun project. I've been to Stephen's grave on Scugog Island in Ontario and am very anxious to confirm that the pedigree in Family Search is correct.

I don't mean to single out this particular ancestor. I'm sure William Brewster is someone to be pleased to have in my family tree. But there are thousands, some famous, most not, who mean just as much to me. I love them and love discovering their stories, leaning of their courage, faith, faults and trials. It's such a wonderful time to be alive. A time when I can sit in front of the TV and watch such inspiring stories come alive, while holding my computer on my lap and searching records from the past, right here in the comfort of my own home. Contrasting that with my stroll down the street in the recreated Plymouth Colony, and my visit aboard the tiny ship that carried my ancestors across a raging sea, I count myself truly blessed that they sacrificed so much so I could enjoy this - in complete freedom!

That's Gross!

2011-04-08T10:47:00.001-06:00

The toilet tank began leaking the other day. It appeared to be coming from where the water supply attached to the tank valve. I tried tightening it and only made it worse.

Seven year old Megan was over and I asked if she'd like to join me on a trip to Lowe's for some toilet guts. "Gross! Papa, that's gross! Still, she accepted the offer and off the store we went. We sang along with our co-favorite song from Great Big Sea, called Here's to Charlie Horse, a song about rallying together and solving problems and other things that matter like that. It's a zippy, rousing tune and we belted it out at the top of our lungs. Newfoundland music always elevates my mood. I wanted to link arms and do the grapevine across the parking lot, but already Megs is starting show some prudent inhibition.

We headed for the plumbing department and were accosted by a helpful associate who asked what we were looking for. "Toilet guts," Megan volunteered with a clear hint of disgust in her tone. Amused, our guide ushered us right to the spot. They don't make toilet guts like the used to - thank goodness. We got out of the store without too much damage, though I did find a new color for our African Violet collection. Cheap too. I've been thinking about propagating some of Betty's but that takes nine months from leaf to blossom. Holding out my hands palms up I weighed nine months against $2.00 and succumbed. But I digress...

Back at home we tore the tank off the toilet and began disassembling the old guts. Megan noticed quite a collection of silt in the bottom of the tank. "Gross Papa! Is that poop?"

"No this water gets in line before the poop. The poop all goes down the drain when this water gets dumped into the bowl."

"So what is it then," she asked. Not convinced.

"It's silt."

"How's it get in there?"

I explained that this is a very old house (by her standards) and that in the old days the spring runoff caused the tap water to get roiled.

"What's roiled?" she wanted to know.

"Muddy," I said.

"Gro-oss! Did you drink it?"

"Of course! One gets thirsty you know."

"Gross!"

"Anyway the silt or mud would settle out of the water and obviously collected on the bottom of the toilet tank." I explained. I thought about cleaning it out, but it hasn't hurt anything so far, and who knows who'll be helping me and what questions will be asked the next time I have to replace the guts.

"Papa?"

"Yes dear?"

"Did everybody drink the muddy water?"

"Yes dear."

"Why didn't you just buy bottled water?"

"Wasn't invented yet."

About this time I gave myself a blood blister when the pliers slipped off a nut. Megan thought it was a good time to let me be alone.

"Grandma?"

"Yes dear."

Did you drink the muddy water in the spring time too?"

"Yes dear."

"Gross!"

"Did anything happen?"

"Well, our skin turned brown when we bathed and the cows started giving chocolate milk for a few weeks."

"Gross!"

Allergies

2011-04-06T12:59:00.001-06:00

My allergies have been working me over the past couple of days (mostly nights). They're normally not bad enough to justify the expense of medicine, especially since they allowed it to be sold over the counter so my health insurance won't help pay for it any more. But this week hasn't been quite normal.

Two nights ago I took some sinus headache medicine and that kept me awake most of the night, then last night, thinking I'd better not do that again, I cleaned my head out with a rinse with the Neti Pot which lasted long enough to get to sleep but not for long enough to get me through the night. I was up at 3:00 and didn't get back to sleep until six. I managed to sleep until the phone rang at eleven and have been lying around nursing a headache ever since.

I really don't know what I'm allergic to. It usually begins around the end of February so it is probably the elms which begin to bloom so early. Then it is usually done by the time the Purple Mustard (Chorispora Tinella) quits covering the desert meadows with their Eastery carpet. In about another week I'm going to have to head South and East, maybe out on the Old Bonanza Highway so I can enjoy that pastel delight. Acres and acres will be blanketed with mustard. It stinks, but I think it's one of the prettiest Springtime delights. I'll suffer for it. But most nice things come at a price. Purple mustard has a tiny little flower.

And would hardly be noticed if there weren't billions of them. I love that notion - strength in numbers. I guess the same is true of pollen. Cough, cough.

I get another little allergy spell in the Fall and that's about it.

As allergies go. Mine aren't so bad. I have acquaintance who suffers horribly for months and months. Another friend claims to be allergic to alcohol. "Every time I drink, I break out in handcuffs," he complains. A nephew is allergic to peanuts, dangerously so. What's a lost night's sleep compared with anaphylactic shock!

So, I'll ache and wheeze a little, enjoy the return of spring and flora and then celebrate the day when my swollen membranes shrink, relax and inhale the breath of life quite freely again.

95 Years and Counting. Or Living a Life that Counts.

2011-04-05T10:59:00.001-06:00

I stopped in to see Brother Len in the hospital this morning. He's in the ICU after having had his gall bladder removed on Monday. The ICU is mostly a precaution on account of his advanced age. "That gall bladder served me well for 95 years." he tells me. "Can't very well complain."

He's not on any pain medication and was sitting up smiling and giving the doctor a hard time for not releasing him to go home. He's not too happy spending his days in the hospital, something he's had very little experience with in his long life. He's got everybody laughing and wondering how someone so old can still be so well.

His daughters are here. His son came over the week end. No spring chickens themselves. They are fussing over him and giving me contradictory asides as he explains that he's good as new. My money is on Len's opinion, not theirs.

I'm sure Len is anxious to get home and back to the Temple. He rarely misses a day, faithfully serving in the House of Lord day, after week, after month, after year. He's an institution around here. He was Principal of the old Naples Elementary before it was torn down in 1966 or so. Later he moved to Ashley Elementary, where he was Principal during all the years my daughters attended. He seemed very old back then. He still claims that Sweetie was the best PTA President they ever had. He probably says that to all the girls, but the sincerity in his eye tells me he's right.

Like yours and mine, Len's days are numbered and shall not be counted fewer than God intends. I'm thankful that today, God intends to leave him here a while longer. I'm also thankful that He let me stick around long enough to enjoy Len's joyful, wise countenance, one more time. Makes me want to hang in there, like Len.

General Conference, Did I Miss Anything?

2011-04-04T10:28:00.002-06:00

I've got to admit that I dozed off a couple of times during Conference. I'm not proud to admit it. But it happened. On Facebook I noticed a number of such confessions. I appreciate everyone's honesty. It gave me comfort to know I wasn't the only one.

A few of those comments suggested that they'd have to make up for it by reading those talks they missed when they come out in the Ensign. That's great. Sweetie mentioned that I missed a great talk on pain by Elder Richards. This morning I went to LDS.org and listened to it in its entirety, just as if I hadn't fallen asleep. What a wonderful blessing! I think I'm going to listen to a different talk every morning for a while.

We no longer have to wait for the Ensign to come out. And... if we should have something come up, or perhaps have to work during the regular broadcast, we are free to go online and enjoy Conference any time we wish!

Two Reasons I Look Forward to Conference

2011-04-03T22:21:00.000-06:00

The most obvious reason is that it is such a feast to sit at the feet of the prophets! Their inspired words always inspire and lift me. This conference was no exception. What wonderful guidance we were so freely offered. I marvel at the humility of these fine servants of the Lord. Too often we think of them as celebrities who just go around motivating and encouraging us. We hardly notice that behind the scenes these men and women perform Herculean tasks that involve monumental decisions and tremendous organizational and leadership effort. There's is not an easy task of comfortable notoriety. Theirs is a complete, entire and constant commitment of consecration.

That leads me to the other thing I so eagerly anticipate about Conference. Here in Utah we get to watch documentaries about the Church in between sessions. Presentations about Temples being built. Missionary efforts abroad. Tours of the Tabernacle Choir. Things like that. This Conference marked the 75th anniversary of the creation of the Church Welfare Program. Much of the programing between sessions of Conference focused on that. What a wonder to behold as Latter-day Saints from all around the world sacrifice time and resources to care for those in need. Organizationally, that alone, is among the most incredible efforts on the planet today. Producing, preparing and storing our own commodities, having our own distribution systems in place, responding to immediate needs here and abroad, requires an army of laborers and we seem to never lack for those who will step forward to serve.

Tears rolled down my face as I learned of a Ward, who, on Christmas day went out to a Church vineyard to prune the grapes in preparation for next year's growing season. They called it a gift for the Christ Child. Farm workers themselves, having little time off, they chose to serve the Lord on that precious day they were not required to work for their employers. Legion, were the examples of faithful Saints quietly stepping forward to meet the needs not only of friends and neighbors, but of total strangers a world away.

In my own Ward I marvel at all the hours that are quietly spent serving, loving and watching over one another. Spread that blessing across the globe, as it surely is in over 28,000 Wards and Branches, and it's power and magnificence is truly magnificent! What a blessed time to be upon the earth!

Parley P Pratt's Pre-Priesthood Pizza Party

2011-04-02T21:37:00.000-06:00

My cousin Steve is LDS Institute Director at Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut. Last night the men of the Tute held an activity in conjunction with the Priesthood Session of General Conference. Because of the time difference the meeting doesn't begin on the east coast until 8:00 PM. So at 7 Pm they had "7 P's" or "Parley P Pratt's Pre-Priesthood Pizza Party." What a great idea! I wanted to do the same here in our Utah Ward, but alas, didn't hear about it until yesterday.

When I got to the Stake Center to enjoy Priesthood Meeting I sat by a good friend of mine who is an Elder's Quorum President. He was crying. We were 15 minutes early so we had a good talk. He'd just been out trying to rally some Quorum members to the meeting. He had failed. There he sat all alone, feeling inadequate for the huge responsibility he bore on his sturdy shoulders. I don't know if there is anything one can say to offer comfort at such a moment. He wants so badly to bless their lives but too often they refuse his invitations. I suppose the Master feels the same way.

I suggested we try the 7 P's next fall, which cheered him some. But then I sat there wondering if I'd feel any better if they came for the pizza instead of the blessings inherent in sitting at the feet of the prophets. Is there satisfaction in success if they are baited into attendance by their appetites instead of their testimonies? Do we want them to learn to be good for pizza? Or good for nothing?

On the other hand we are invited to be fishers of men, perhaps a little bait is in order.

Dr. Hilton Talks About the Effects of Pornography on the Brain

2011-03-30T11:03:00.000-06:00

Book Review - Beatrice and Virgil by Yann Martel

2011-03-16T16:51:00.001-06:00

I liked The Life of Pi, I really did. I learned a great deal from it. The last bit was a bit disconcerting, but I liked it, all.

I loved Beatrice and Virgil. This is perhaps one of the more profound books I've ever read about the...

I'd better not tell you that much. It would make it much less fun to read, much less poignant at the end. It is interesting that I have heard or read very little commentary on Beatrice and Virgil, while having heard and read much about the Life of Pi. To my thinking it should be the other way round. I can really tell you very little about the former and doubt I will ever forget the latter.

Here's a favorite quote from the book: "Words are cold muddy toads trying to understand sprites dancing in a field."
Having said that, Martel then proceeds to use those muddy toads to try and understand. His goal? To figure out, "How are we going to talk about what happened to us...?"

I think he figured it out quite perfectly....sort of.

My Book is Nearly Done

2011-03-07T15:01:00.005-07:00

I've been working on my new book Commend Yourself to God - Commentary on the Nature of Change. It is nearing completion but needs some editing and feedback. I am publishing it as it currently exists in the form of a blog, to be found at Commend Yourself to God. As blogs publish backwards with most recent items posted at the top you can read it chronologically by clicking on the individual chapters under the table of contents listed at the right. If you would like to copy or print it out in it's proper sequence you can also find it at my site on Google Documents.

The book is about manipulation which I define as: influencing or playing upon others, by devious means, to one's own advantage. Most of us hate to be manipulated. Most of us are loathe to admit that we ourselves are manipulators. I think you'll be surprised how many of us manipulate. Moreover, I think you'll be shocked at the damage manipulation is causing in our families, and in the church, community and nation. It is time to make ourselves aware of this primary tool of the evil one and divorce ourselves from it's insidious use.

This book is not written to give victims of manipulation an excuse, nor ammo for retaliation. It is not written to condemn those who have manipulated us. It is written to make us aware of its effects in our lives and to teach us how to refrain from letting manipulation destroy us as well as how to discontinue the oppression of others by manipulative means.

I hope you will find it enlightening, occasionally entertaining, motivating and inspirational. We manipulate because we'd like to see change in ourselves and others. There is a better way to bring about change which you will discover as you study the examples set forth in this work. As you read you'll learn better what it is to change and how that is appropriately and effectively brought about. Enjoy!

I Want To Fly!

2011-03-07T10:47:00.005-07:00

I awoke this morning exhausted. My shoulder muscles felt as if I'd been working all night. This is not rare with me. It is as though I have been carrying a burden the entire night. That image caught hold in my mind and I began to discover the problem. I am clinging to something. Desperately, earnestly hanging on for dear life, to something I cannot bear to part with.

I've just spent a few hours trying to determine what it might be. What is this burden that I am so unwilling to release, but which is so doggedly wearing me out? I can't seem to put my finger on it? I started my journey of recovery with a backpack full of rocks. I have unloaded most of them. I say most because there is obviously more baggage I have not dealt with. I'm pleased, at this point, to have a starting place. I helps to have the realization that I still have a burden that I have not dropped at the Savior's feet. Knowing that, I think I can go on to discover what it is.

During my days I keep busy. Mostly serving others. This makes me happy. I spend my days relaxed and full of meaningful activity. What is it about the night time that causes this tension to return. I described it to Darwin the other day like this: Every morning I awake in the tree tops of fear and anxiety. My understanding of the gospel, the atonement and my faith in Jesus Christ allow me to talk myself down from those precarious heights. There on solid ground I am able to spend my days in peace, gratitude and happiness. Why is it though, that every dawn finds me desperately clinging to a precarious tree top perch? What is chasing me to the upper most branches? What do I fear?

It appears that my subconscious is dealing with something my conscious mind is not aware of. What can that be? Consciously, I am quite willing to let go of my own will, surrendering it to God. Much experience has taught me that such action always results in happiness and contentment. His will for me is always beneficial, joyful, and positive, even when it pushes me regularly out of my comfort zone. Yet, somehow, during my sleep, I find myself desperately clinging to some inexplicable something that clearly I would be better off letting go.

My dreams don't bear a clue. In fact when I am most affected by this state, I don't remember having dreams at all.

I don't think it has anything to do with the winds of adversity that are blowing on me at present. I consider adversity to be like the breeze that enables a kite to fly. In this metaphor I am the kite. The string is woven of trust, faith and obedience. It is God who holds the string. It is He that uses adversity to enable me to soar to lofty heights. Were the string to be severed I would be blown by the wind, out of control, to eventually fall from the sky. Attached to God by the string He can take me where we wishes. Unlike mortal flyers of kites, God controls the wind as well. He ensures that the velocity, turbulence and buffeting of adversity is not more than I can bear. All of these factors I am experienced with, even comfortable with. There is another factor however, weight.

I think too often we equate the burdens we carry with the adversity we experience. They are quite different. Adversity enables me to soar. Baggage prevents me from doing so. If I am a kite and something is holding me down, despite a strong string, expert kite flyer, good sails and energetic opposition, there will be no lively adventures across the sky. What is the baggage I am so afraid to abandon?

So, this is where I find myself today. Held down my some weighty burden that makes me and all other aspects of the grand design quite cumbersome.

There are enormous kites out there. Sails and spars and cables and reels and machinery capable of lifting heavy burdens into the sky on the power of the wind. I think, inadvertently, I am spending too much time trying to beef up my system so I can lift my burdens, rather than simply, quietly, elegantly releasing them. What is so precious to me that I'd rather lumber low, straining against a heavy wind. Wouldn't I rather dance across the sky on a merry breeze? Don't you suppose that the velocity of our adversity might be commensurate with the volume of weight we are hoping to lift?

I love the scriptural language related to the disposal of burdens. Words like yield, submit, drop, give, surrender, and release come to mind. It is interesting that such things require no more effort than simple willingness. In fact the truth is that burdens only require effort when we are hanging on to them, not when we are giving them up. So, why would we choose to cling so desperately to our burdens? What is it we are so afraid might happen if we don't have our precious baggage?

So, looking back over all this, my aches and exhaustion are beginning to make sense. Now it's just a matter of exploring on paper what it might be that is still burdening me. For me, the process of written examination results in revelation. God knows what I've tied to the tail of my kite that keeps me straining to get aloft. Once He's revealed that to me, He will help me let it go, so I can fly.

The Red Flag of Discontent

2011-03-04T09:55:00.000-07:00

Lately, I've spent a lot of time praying, imagining, hoping, seeking and anticipating a special blessing from God. I won't bother you with the details. I believe that He has promised the blessing. I am striving to do my part in seeing it come to pass. I believe that it will come according to His will and good pleasure. I have even been patient with the process, knowing that He knows best when it comes to the how, where, what and when of it all.

I have failed in one regard however; and yesterday taught me that it was a pretty major goof. I have focused so intently on the blessing I seek that I have grossly overlooked the blessings I am presently receiving. I have not defined that distant blessing in any detail. I am wise enough to leave the details to God, who is far wiser than I. Because I have not defined means, nor outcomes; I guess I allowed my imagination to wonder as to how it might come to pass. In doing so, I allowed my heart to wander away from the present moment. If you've followed this blog for any length of time you'll know that I am a strong advocate of living in the present. Yet again, I find myself to have been coaxed away from the here and now and consequently from happiness.

I believe that one of Satan's greatest tools is distraction. He is subtle and devious in his effort to make us miserable. The interesting thing is that the level of happiness we currently enjoy is the best indicator - barometer, if you will, as to how much success he is having. In my current case he has taken my quest for a particular blessing and corrupted it into a means to bring about discontent and misery. There is nothing wrong with the blessing I seek. As I said, I fully expect the Lord will one day grant it to me. In the mean time, Satan has taken my desire, corrupted it and used it against me.

Being so intent and focused on this future gift, the devil has helped me overlook the blessings I am currently receiving, in abundance. Not noticing gifts from God is the most ungrateful and heinous crime I can imagine. Not only does it offend God; it fosters our own unhappiness. In the moment that I receive the great gift I seek, I will most assuredly be happy. But I can be equally happy today if I will just stay here, mentally and emotionally, and enjoy the gifts I am given in the here and now. I have long contended that the key to happiness is to keep your heart, your head and your butt in the same place at the same time. It embarrasses me that I must keep reminding myself of this simple truth.

I am so thankful for the red flags that pop up to warn me of the dangerous, treacherous territory I am approaching. Red flags of self pity, frustration and discontent warn me that I have left the path of happiness. They alert me to the fact that my heart, and/or my head, are not in the same moment as my body.

Dixon often reminds that, "the past is history, and the future is a mystery, right now is a gift, that's why the call it the present." He reminded me again last night. Thank you my friend to helping me refocus on the only place where joy resides.

I trust God. I really do. Years of experience have taught me that He is faithful, wise and able. He knows the future and that must be good enough for me. He knows how to prepare me for it and it for me. I must be content with what He gives me today. It is the only way I can be - content.

Wherever He Leads

2011-03-02T10:35:00.001-07:00

Last night Arthur was eliminated from the Biggest Loser. In the process he made a statement that really moved me. I'll have to paraphrase because I can't find a direct quote. In essence he said: I asked God to show me the path and He did. I will go wherever that path leads. If it leads me home that's fine with me.

Jillian had a fit with that. She interpreted it as weakness and capitulation on Arthur's part. I saw it as surrender to the will of God. I'm not condemning Jillian. If you don't believe in God, how can you imagine that submission to Him is anything but weakness. Too many who do believe in God have a hard time giving up control and trusting that He and His power will lead us to happiness faster and more effectively than taking it will. Has Arthur given up his freedom? Of course not. What he has given up is his pride. He is basically saying my way doesn't work, I am willing to try it Thy way.

Part of that trust and willingness comes with having the faith that God has our personal best interest in mind and that He is not in the business of removing our obstacles but rather in helping us overcome them. We are sent here to grow; and resistance, both spiritual, emotional and physical resistance is required to make that happen. Does Arthur get any credit? Of course he does. It is he who is willing to go wherever the path leads. He can give up and take another path at any time. Instead he has chosen to take the path God presents, adversity and all and the results are more than apparent. He's lost an enormous amount of weight and gained so much of confidence and happiness.

In this case surrender simply means: I give up; my way hasn't worked, I'll try it your way for a change. Arthur has not said that only to God, but to his trainers. Even mortals can be our higher power and Bob and Jillian and the others are very adept at being that. Since they cannot keep Bob and Jillian forever, what a blessing it is that they can keep God...if they are willing.

Letting God Decide How to Answer My Prayers

2011-02-22T09:07:00.001-07:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about answered prayers. Sometimes I lose track of how that works. I get on my knees and tell God what I would like and sometimes get pretty specific as to how and what He should grant me. Like I have even the slightest idea what is best for me.

If I boil my prayers down to the lowest common denominator, they all center on the acquisition of happiness. Too often though, I have a preconceived notion as to what it is that will bring happiness about. This past year has taught me that my preconceived notions are mostly ill conceived notions and that while the answers I got were not the ones I wanted, they most certainly were the ones that would produce the most happiness. What God sees as fit for me and my happiness are seldom the same things I have envisioned.

Reading through my journal from early last Summer I encountered an entry in which I mentioned having prayed earnestly for the opportunity to be of service to the Lord. Shortly thereafter, I lost my job. I didn't see the connection then, but looking back I see that my prayer was answered and I was afforded abundant time with which to render the service I sought to offer. I have relished that time and the resulting opportunities to express my gratitude in the care and (hopefully) blessing of others. Later, when I wasn't even looking, God provided a way for me to supplement my income such that we have since had sufficient for our needs. This blessed means was also an opportunity to render service and was on which left my opportunities to serve enhanced, rather than hindered.

Would I like to be more financially free? Of course. Would that make me happier than the blessings I did get? I doubt it.

We talked of service in our Priesthood Quorum on Sunday. It was such a blessing to rub shoulders with such wonderful servants of the Lord. Each has found joy in serving those around them and by extension in serving God. I led the discussion but their testimonies and examples made the lesson. At the end I felt to bear my testimony. I told them that I wasn't too sure I was all that good a servant or that I really knew all that much about service. The one thing I could tell them that I was certain of is this: When I am on the Lord's errand, I know, without doubt, that I will be given the resources necessary to accomplish the task. Be those resources spiritual or physical, they will be given abundantly as necessary. It was then that I realized that I have no such confidence when I comes to the pursuit of my own agenda.

Doesn't it follow then, that if I am constantly about the Lord's business instead of my own, I will always have sufficient for my needs? Of course it does. That settled it for me. From now on I'm going to quit worrying about my own needs and focus on serving the Lord with full purpose of heart. I have every confidence that if I am doing so, I will be given all that I require to sustain me in that effort.

What a relief!

Touched by the Finger of the Lord

2011-02-16T08:27:00.003-07:00

I have long felt the need to have the Lord put forth His finger and touch my efforts that they might shine. Even my very best my efforts, when left to themselves, are as inert as were the stones the Brother of Jared brought before the Lord seeking to have them give light in their vessels. Clearly, those stones did not shine until they were touched by the Lord. I have not altered that notion. I and all I do are completely useless without the attending power and grace of God.

Yesterday, as I was on an errand for the Lord, I said a prayer to that effect. "Would Thou, on account of my weakness before Thee, please put forth Thy finger and give power to my work that it might be satisfactory to Thy purposes?" The Spirit whispered an interesting response. "I already have. I have given you the Priesthood, which is my power. Exercise it righteously and you have all the power you need."

I will continue to pray for the grace and influence of God in all I do; but with the realization that such a prayer is an acknowledgement of my need for such grace, accompanied by the assurance that, if I am serving worthily, my plea has already been abundantly granted.

Movie Review - Babe

2011-02-15T09:49:00.001-07:00

I get a fair amount of gas about this, but I still don't hesitate to say that this, yes this little movie, is my most favorite of all time. There are lots of reasons:

It's message is profound
It's cinematography is superb
It's story is delightful
It's characters are wonderful and yes, believable
It inspires and uplifts me every single time I watch it.
It is rated G for all audiences
This little movie is simply transcendent!

There aren't many films that I would bother watching a second time. Most movies out there are hard to justify watching once, but this one I have eagerly viewed over and over. I just enjoyed it again this morning. And, I came away more inspired by it than ever.

There is a loftiness, simplicity, courage and humility in this story's ideals that speaks volumes to me. Most of us never face heroic Everest-like conquests. Ours are more of a more ordinary, unseen nature. Ours are more like those of farmer Hoggett, masterfully played by James Cromwell. Or like those of Babe, the pig, himself. We all have conflicts like Rex, the dog, and fears and prejudices like Ma the Sheep. How good it would be if we were courageous, honest nurturers of others like that sweet, unassuming dog, Fly. Some of us wish to be what we are not like Ferdinand the Duck and confuse that with being congruent with our potential and value like Babe who, while breaking the mold, was indeed true to himself. Oh, that more of us were like Farmer Hoggett and would follow our hearts and trust our instincts.

Babe's triumph is cheered by friend and foe because he has brought them all along with him. His triumph becomes our triumph and liberates us from fear, doubt, skepticism and the pigeon holes life likes to file us in. Babe prevailed, not because he became a sheep dog, but rather, because he didn't.

Babe became a shepherd and inspired even the sheepherders to do the same. He did it with love, respect, civility and politeness. This, in a world that seems to have rejected each of those most priceless principles. In today's environment, the occasional dose of Babe brings me back to my center and those precious things that matter most to me.

Babe.

Bravo!

Five Stars!

Motivating Home Teachers

2011-01-22T11:28:00.002-07:00

This morning Simple Truths emailed out a little video. It is called You Can't Send a Duck to Eagle School. There is some good information in it, but not so much for Elders Quorum Presidents or High Priests Group Leaders. The premise of the video is that if it is your organization's mission is to climb trees; you want to hire squirrels, not draft horses. I suppose that is true if you can personally select your work force. In a High Priests Group or and Elders Quorum we don't have the option of hand picking our members.

The challenges we face in accomplishing Quorum duties such as Home Teaching lie in how we see our mission. If we are too focused on certain outcomes we will most likely continue in the mediocre status quo. If, however, we take a different view of our calling we will thank the Lord for not only the squirrels and draft horses, but also the ducks, eagles, skunks and poodles.

For the moment, and for the sake of this discussion; let's forget about numbers for a while. With that objective removed, what are we hoping to accomplish in our Quorums? I can think of a few things. I suppose you'll probably add to the list as well as you seek the Lord to guide your stewardship.

First, we are called to strengthen our brethren. When the Savior gave that admonition to Peter, (see Luke 22:32), I think He also had us in mind. Our assignment is to strengthen our brethren, not change them. We are not called to turn draft horses into squirrels or vice versa. Each Quorum member has unique gifts to bring to the whole, which will be best used if we do not try to get him to "fit the mold." The first order of business, I believe is not to get our Home Teaching done but to strengthen our brethren. If we are to rely upon them to bring again Zion we must prepare them for that responsibility. One of the key responsibilities of a Quorum Leader is to prayerfully consider the resources he has and match them with the needs that arise. Try not to favor the draft horses over the squirrels. Each has a unique and beneficial role he can play.

Second, I believe we can change the focus of the stewardship interviews we hold with those in our charge. If we remove numbers again, we will see that the focus of that interview ought to be one of what I as a leader can do to assist him in his calling. Meet with the brethren one on one. Begin with a prayer. Ask the Home Teacher to offer that prayer. As he prays you can begin to take his spiritual temperature and discern what he needs in order to become a greater servant of the Lord. If you don't get such revelation, then ask the brother himself, "What can I do to assist you in your service?" Or, "Are there obstacles to the accomplishment of your duty that I can help you surmount?" Or, (if he's just not going) "What is it that makes you resist the fulfillment of your assignment?" I guarantee you will discover things you had not known and things you can do to help him overcome even the scariest problems. Remember the focus needs to be on preparing and strengthening the Home Teacher. If he is not prepared, he is not going to adequately watch over the families he is assigned.

Third, please don't micro manage your Home Teachers. Please. Begin by giving them the latitude they need to teach by the Spirit. If we insist on drawing a detailed picture of what good Home Teaching looks like and refuse to let our Home Teachers color outside the lines I guarantee our Home Teaching will be less effective than it can be. If, for example, you have a Home Teacher to travels on business frequently and the only way he can visit his families is on Skype then by all means encourage him to do it. His family needs the time he is at home and what fun it might be to be Home Taught over the internet with Hong Kong in the back ground.

Fourth, we seldom see our Home Teaching and other Quorum assignments as team projects. A little correlation and communication could go a long way toward making that happen. If we were to take a moment in Quorum meetings to coordinate and deal with pressing problems we could cover Home Teachers in a scheduling crunch, give suggestions for sticky challenges, swap companions for a night... the possibilities are endless. No Home Teacher should feel like he's out there on his own. He should have the comfort that his Quorum is backing him up - all the way. For example, on a third Sunday, someone might say, "I've tried to get with Sister Williams all month and just discovered she's been in intensive care in Salt Lake City. Is anyone going that way who might have time to stop in to check on her? Someone might respond. Or maybe someone else knows her daughter's name and a number he could call. That phone call, or that visit by one of his Quorum mates is surely effective Home Teaching. How about this one? "Does anybody know where and when Bill hits the coffee shop on Saturday mornings? I'd like to stop in there and see if that might be a way I can spend some time with him each month." Someone might answer, "Yea, hope they have Postum on hand for you! I see him pull out at about 7:30, follow him." Someone else might say, "I think he meets Joe there, maybe I could come too!"

Fifth, take a moment at the beginning of each Quorum Meeting to invite someone to tell a Home Teaching success story. Nothing spawns imagination, courage and continued effort better than witnessing success. Ask questions like, "I saw Paul out to Sacrament Meeting this morning! What's going on?" The Home Teacher might say, "I was as surprised as you are!" Or maybe, "All I did was invite him." Or "When he and Sharron were over to dinner, my little Mary asked him if she could sit by him in Sacrament Meeting. What else could he do?" Some Home Teacher in the Quorum might be wondering about a couple he is assigned and realize that inviting the Whosits over for a barbecue, just might actually count as Home Teaching!

Sixth, there is something for everyone. All who run may win the prize. Perhaps you'll assign more families to your heavy haulers than you do to your squirrels. Maybe you'll send a draft horse with a squirrel. The horse might carry the weight, but maybe the family would rather have a nut. What if a retired gentleman is wearing out his junior companion with the eight families he's willing to teach. Maybe you could give him two companions (four families each). I have a potential Home Teacher who is homebound with poor health. Could it count as Home Teaching if he wrote personal notes on the Ward News Letter and posted them to families who won't (yet) let Home Teachers in the door? I think it would. What about Walt who won't go Home Teaching. Maybe he'll be Sam's companion at the Coffee Shop visiting Joe and Bill. I can just hear Walt say, "Now this is what I call Home Teaching!" Now Walt is helping carry the load (even if he orders coffee instead of Postum.) Guaranteed his senior companion isn't perfect either. Okay, so it's more like Coffee Shop Teaching, but which is better, the coffee shop or nothing? I do a fair amount of Home Teaching in driveways and on sidewalks this time of year.

Now a final few thoughts. One of the things I like about going to 12 Step meetings is that no one shows up and brow beats me or tells me what to do. The tradition is to simply share our own experience, strength and hope. I never feel like anyone is "Holier than Thou." We would do well to adopt that pattern in our Quorums and in the homes we visit. We would do well to take the word should out of our vocabulary. People already pretty much know what they should do and don't often need someone naggingly coming around every month to remind them. The reason we don't use should's in 12 Steps is because we believe that God will use life to prepare each person with sufficient humility to take necessary steps and that the preparation for humility is God's job, not ours. We need to accept the fact that we are not in a position to fix anyone but ourselves. It is time we quit trying. God does the fixing.

So, back to experience, strength and hope. When we share our Home Teaching success stories (in humility, I hope.) We give the audience a chance to examine their own circumstances and accept the Spirit's invitation to emulate the good and success they see in the examples given. They remain free to choose and often enough, will choose well. That is if they don't feel manipulated, guilt tripped, arm twisted, carrot and sticked, into doing something they're presently uncomfortable with. I once made this suggestion to a brother who jumped right in with the protest, "But what about D&C 20 where we are counselled not only to be with and strengthen, but to expound and to exhort? You are asking us not to exhort." I realize the dictionary defines exhort as to: urge strongly, give warnings or advice. But, it was not always so. Most New Testament instances that were translated from the Greek as exhort held a quite different meaning. In the Greek, παρακλέω meant to call near or invite to come with, accompanied by strong connotations of lending comfort and encouragement. Quite a different view of exhortation, don't you think? I believe that definition more closely parallels the counsel we are given in D&C 121, where exercise of the Priesthood is to be done by:

persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned;

By kindness, and pure knowledge, which shall greatly enlarge the soul without hypocrisy, and without guile—

If we are about enlarging souls we will be successful. We can now put numbers back into the equation. Numbers will naturally follow strong and strengthened Quorum members. That's where numbers should be, behind people, not before them. Putting numbers first is Spiritual Dyslexia. It is putting the cart before the horse (or squirrel.)

Guilty of Prostitution

2011-01-20T12:13:00.005-07:00

pros·ti·tute

a person who willingly uses his or her talent or ability in a base and unworthy way, usually for money.

Okay, I've skirted around this issue long enough. I felt so excited to have the time and focus to write full time when I began this project last Summer. Then as finances grew tighter and revenue streams dried up I became more and more distracted by money and my writing began to suffer. I felt a distinct loss of imagination, creativity, motivation and my writing practically stopped. In the mean time my attention turned to other important and very gratifying activities of service and companionship.

The ever pressing need for money drove me back to the keyboard time and time again, but there was little that came to my mind or fingertips.

I began seriously writing in my recovery program from addiction. I was astonished at what I could discover by asking questions and seeking answers on the written page. More and more I wrote. More and more I felt knowledge and understanding streaming into my conscious awareness. Some say we all have it in us we just have to dig it out. Writing is the spade. While there is truth to that, to be sure. I feel certain that there is also a large measure of actual revelation involved in the process.

I write to discover and refine my understanding of myself, of life, of God and of my circumstances. When I began to think of writing as a career that all changed. Unavoidably, I began to write for money. In doing so the color, texture, taste, smell and joy of discovery largely disappeared. "You cannot serve God and Mammon," Jesus declared. I am finally willing to admit that He was right.

I need to parenthetically mention that I am more than grateful that others have written books and shared their wisdom, knowledge, imagination and insight with me. I do not condemn them in any way. Where would I be without them and their wonderful inspiration? I do not begrudge them the blessing of revenue from their efforts. All I am saying here is that I am unable to do that. I have tried. I have tried and tried to keep my focus on the subjects at hand, but always, in the back of my mind, was the nagging question of whether or not my writing would sell. That niggling undercurrent has ruined the process for me and as of today will stop.

I am taking the tip jar off my blog. Also all advertising. I am no longer going to pursue publication of any of my work. I will put it all online, complete or not for you to use or reject as suits you. I no longer intend to profit from the gifts God has so generously granted me. Every time I write something that lifts, inspires and changes me, I am already recipient of such good, kind grace from God that it seems a violation to seek monetary gain from it as well.

I have always been uncomfortable with what I call "Marketing Mormonism." I remain so. As I said before, it puts me between a rock and a hard place because I don't know what I'd do if I no could no longer visit Deseret Book. I love perusing the shelves and shelves of creative thought and inspiration. Coming to the conclusion that such a course is not for me has been a difficult struggle. In the end I had to concede that I am just not cut out for self promotion, or from profiting from God's liberal gifts.

I have come to realize that were I to be a successful writer, especially in the genre that most of my writing fits, I would be especially vulnerable to entering into priestcraft.

Alma 1:16

Nevertheless, this did not put an end to the spreading of priestcraft through the land; for there were many who loved the vain things of the world, and they went forth preaching false doctrines; and this they did for the sake of riches and honor.

I suspect that one does not necessarily have to preach false doctrine in order to practice priestcraft. Even true doctrine taught for the sake of vanity, wealth and honor, to my mind, is suspect when it comes to priestcraft. I hope with all my heart that I have never preached false doctrine. Would that more readers would comment; most especially to challenge notions I have that may not bear up under the scrutiny of the truth. Yet I can imagine how easy it would be, for the sake of wealth and influence, to doctor up the truth to make it more marketable. Heaven forbid.

This morning, I haven't a clue as to what my financial future might hold. Nor can I conceive of how I can possibly make ends meet. But I finally realize that is a separate issue and so I want to make it plain that I will no longer prostitute my talent (such as it is) for fame or money.

Rethinking the Notion of Setting Goals

2011-01-19T13:01:00.004-07:00

A few recent circumstances have caused me to reconsider what it means to "Begin With The End In Mind." I have long been a Stephen R. Covey fan. I have studied his books extensively and have applied the principles he teaches in The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. While I haven't applied them perfectly, nor do I suppose anyone has; I have made near Herculean efforts to use those habits to achieve the ends I had in mind.

While in the throes of addiction I had great hopes that The 7 Habits would be a means of escaping my bondage. They were not. In fact I have come to believe that the second habit, Begin With the End in Mind actually exacerbated my problems. Let me explain. As I have boiled down my addiction to it's bare bones I've discovered that the fundamental problem for me was wanting life on my own terms. I would envision in minute detail how my life would turn out if I pursued such-and-such a course. That course always produced different, and to my mind, unsatisfactory, results. The ensuing pain of disappointment then, led to substance abuse, depression, and retrogression.

Beginning with the end in mind was my problem; not a solution for it. Now, this being said, I must admit that I remain in a bit of a quandary as to what this discovery means for me. So, writing this, is more of an examination for discovery than some stipulated conclusion. I have personally heard the present prophet, President Thomas S. Monson, encourage the setting of and earnest pursuit of goals. How can it be then, that the pursuit of established goals has become my nemesis?

For me a significant part of the problem has been that my goals had not been my own. As is common for people in childhood, goals are often set for us. Someone bigger, stronger, wiser than us always seems ready to tell us how to proceed with our lives. My father in particular had a very specific future outlined for me. That future included athletics, heroics, fame, security and success. Essentially, he was endeavoring to create me in his own image. Eventually, I rebelled against that pattern for my life. Partly because it was impossible and partly because I had other ideas. I concluded to make my goals my own. I replaced the ends my father had in mind for me with ones of my own. That approach was flawed too because now I was trying to create myself in my own image or in other words after my own imagination. That was equally impossible and ultimately, utterly frustrating.

Covey and others have long preached that goals need to be specific. We are supposed to establish what it is we want to achieve and then break that down into smaller more individual components of the whole that can be worked toward in bite sized portions. Makes sense. But for me it just doesn't work. At least it hasn't.

Let me give you a recent example. I have long had a goal to write a book. I could do it page by page, chapter by chapter until it was complete. Well, what foolishness. If I am honest I have to tell you why I wanted to write a book. I wanted to be important, famous, wealthy, and admired. That was my purpose for writing the book. Sitting down to do it though, I have discovered that I have nothing much to say. Oh, I can write a book alright. I can fill it from cover to cover with words, I can complete my goal and then some. But then what? Is writing a book a good goal? I think not. Is discovering something worthwhile to say a better one? Perhaps. But I think that even that is a misbegotten pursuit. What kind of objective is it to seek something to say, just so you can become admired for saying it. All of those objectives are completely confined to self-centeredness. They are not about contributing something to the world, but about contributing something to me.

All goals I might set for myself seem doomed to be selfish and thus, unsatisfactory. What is to be done?

I appears that the answer is in letting God set my goals. Allowing Him to create me in His image. This calls for a completely different approach. An elaborate, gate-folded planner will be unnecessary. This approach doesn't require planning, nearly so much as it requires seeking. Seek. That is the word the scripture uses. You won't find goal or objective or aim in this context in the holy writ. You will find seek quite commonly. There we are counselled not to seek for riches (Alma 39:14), power (Alma 60:36), glory (1 Thess. 2:6), praise (2 Nephi 26:29), "great things for thyself" (Jeremiah 45:5); but for God (Deuteronomy 4:29), His glory (2 Nephi 1:25), His Kingdom (Matthew 6:33) and the blessing and interest of our fellow men (D&C 82:19).

Successful pursuit of the Kingdom of God can never be a selfish one. It, of necessity, requires that we think instead of God and of others. Attempting to approach Heaven with ourselves in mind is like building the Tower of Babel and pursuit of that goal will always be confounded.

In a recent article on Home Teaching I wrote:

I am aware that most of us tackle such a project and have been trained to begin with the end in mind. We suppose that if we are nice and give service for a while that we will eventually bear the fruit in some preconceived way. And, if we don't, we tend to become discouraged and soon move on to greener or more golden pastures. I believe that Ammon had no such agenda. He let God be in charge of the agenda. His call was to be of service forever if need be.

I was moved by the reply of a dear and very wise friend:

I think if we begin with the end in mind, imagining what the fruit will look like, we might miss the fruit as it blossoms, ripens, and eventually falls rotten to the ground without us noticing, because it wasn't how we pictured it to begin with.

What an astute observation. You see what I'm getting at? See what happens when we establish specific goals for ourselves rather than giving God his role in our lives. Another dear friend in recovery often makes this telling statement:

I have come to know there is a God; and I have come to know that He is not me.

I am forced to conclude that if I selfishly, independently set my own goals to the purpose of achieving my own ends I am declaring myself to be a god in whose image I am attempting to create myself. But, if I am willing to get out of my own way and let God be in charge, He will create me in His image.

Now, when God established The Promised Land as Lehi's goal for himself and his family, did they all get their planners out, their maps and charts, their encyclopedias and catalogues? No. Instead they simply, continually, sought God's guidance and direction. Literally on a daily, even hourly basis they asked Him, or by extension the Liahona, where they should go next. Had they planned the trip themselves, they wouldn't have anticipated a fraction of what they eventually encountered on the journey. In a very real way every trip to The Promised Land is more about the journey and less about the destination. So it was for the Children of Israel, the Jaredites, the Lehites and the Mormons. So it is for us. For the promised land to be a land of promise, the promise has to be in us before we get there. We have to learn to let God lead. He is after all the Author of our Salvation. Let us quit trying to write our own stories and let the Author write them for us and for those around us.

Years ago a visiting authority at Stake Conference made a statement I have never forgotten. I've forgotten his name and I'll have to paraphrase his comment. Essentially he said:

It is interesting that we spend such great effort to put roofs over our heads, clothing on our bodies and provide ourselves with retirement investments, insurance policies, police and army forces all in an effort to feel secure in a world that was designed to be insecure so that we would develop faith in Jesus Christ and learn to put our trust in Him.

Is that why we set goals? In order to take care of ourselves and others; in the event that God fails us? Who then is failing who?

God began this business with the end in mind. "For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man." (Moses 1:39) He knows where he wants to take us. Can't we let him? Even an alcoholic understands this notion when he prays, "Lord, what would Thou have me do today? Please, give me the strength to do it?" God knows where we need to go, what we need to do. Why is it so hard to abandon our false security and let Him take us there. For me there can only be one end; which is to begin each day letting God be in charge of my life. When I was in charge I careened from train wreck to train wreck. Even when I planned carefully. More and more I want to be like Nephi; knowing in whom I have trusted.

I Love My Life!

2011-01-18T07:42:00.000-07:00

I've been blessed with so many opportunities to serve and the rewards are enormous. Last night I was facilitating a 12 Step Group at the Detention Center. 15 Youth attended the meeting. We talked a lot about pain. There was eager participation, but a general reluctance to focus on what's hurting them. Still, I could see in their eyes a specific hurt that despite are cavalier demeanor, betrayed their fear. After the meeting two of them asked for some personal time. Our hearts had met in some way and they wanted further help to deal with the wounds of their souls.

I love looking past their hardened exteriors where tattoos and indifferent or defiant faces conceal what longing eyes reveal. These are tender hearted children who've been severely harmed by this mortal world. They've put up walls with which to protect themselves, but deep inside they are still hopeful. Hopeful that there might actually be someone out there they could trust. Someone they might dare to invite inside to share the load.

Do you know what a blessing it is to be that person? That one they are willing to trust? It is such a burden, for I could not bear to let them down. But it is also such a joy. These precious children of God are in such great need of His love but fear is keeping them from it. We need to offer them love unfeigned so they can find a safe place to grow and heal. There is no greater gift God could give me than to be their friend and to witness their joy as they emerge from their sorrow.

There are millions in the world who, like these, need such love. They are old and young, large and small and it is you and I who must love them. That is really all that is required. Love. Just as they are. Love.

I do not know, how I could be so blessed as to have this privilege. To love and be loved is the greatest gift of all and it is mine.

Are You a Gadianton Robber?

2011-01-15T10:45:00.001-07:00

My little town prides itself on its conservatism. We typically vote Republican. That right there is an oxymoron if you call yourself a Conservative. But I digress. Being conservative we are often heard to complain about Federal spending and about the Federal deficit. We vote for candidates who claim to believe the same but then go about doing the opposite. One of the most glaring examples is the current palace being constructed as our new City Hall.

We weren't even fully utilizing the old one, but just had to have a new, state of the art, show piece to boost somebody's ego. When I complained to a city employee about what I considered to be inappropriate extravagance, especially during an economic down turn; he justified it by saying that the money for the building had been granted long before the recession. By granted he meant that a good portion of the funds for the building had been received from the Federal Government. "So," I replied, "You let the Feds take the fall for higher taxes instead of taking the political hit yourselves." His response was that somebody was going to get that money and it might as well be us.

And thus, we have rationalized our way into trillions of dollars of debt in this country. We think we ought to get a share of the pie and so does everyone else and there just isn't enough pie to go around. It's like cutting our own throats and drinking the blood to stay alive! Who are we kidding?

In The Book of Mormon there was a group who took over the government and destroyed their political system by the very same "if we can't beat them, join them" mentality. That group was called the Gadianton robbers. Too often we think that we have to be a co-conspirator in some heinous scheme to get personal gain, in order to qualify for membership in that gang of greedy low-lifes. In reality, all we have to do to join is to surrender to their system. This country would not be in the financial pickle we're in if we each stood on our own two feet and took care of ourselves. In my opinion, collecting unemployment payments, instead of saving for a rainy day, is joining the Gadianton Robbers. What about seeking a Pell Grant instead of working our way through school? Doing so increases their power and influence and decreases our own. The same thing applies to government grants for individuals and municipalities, states and such things as Universities and other institutions. They get the money, which always comes with strings attached. Strings that always restrict our freedom. The funny thing is, most of that money doesn't really exist, all we are really getting is a mountain of debt which translates to a monstrous burden on our own backs. So we get the restrictive strings and the debt and those who pull the strings pay nothing for the bondage we willingly let them subject us to.

This is a system that is destined to destroy itself. The more who join the robbers the fewer there are to rob. When there remain none on whose backs the blood suckers can feed, they will surely turn on themselves. Of course by then, they has become we.

To the degree that we vote for political candidates who make us promises of caring for needs we ought to be meeting by our own sacrifice and effort, we are joining the Gadianton Robbers. Such candidates must take the resources to buy those votes from someone; and that someone is you and me, the fools who thought we might as well get our share of the plunder. Didn't we ever stop to consider that we were plundering our own purses?

I call upon our community and our citizen to stop this foolishness. Let us take care of ourselves and our own. Let us stand on our own two feet and quit this free ride mentality before it becomes too late!

"They Don't Want Home Teachers?" Nonsense!

2011-01-11T11:30:00.001-07:00

Whenever some one says a family doesn't want Home Teachers I have to wonder what kind of Home Teachers they've had? Who wouldn't want Home Teachers? Unless they've had lousy ones. So what do we do then? Excuse ourselves because we failed a family and they don't want us to fail them any more?

Years ago I was sitting in for a regular member of the Ward Council when it was mentioned that so-and-so and so-and-so refuse Home Teachers. I was appalled! This was the first time I'd heard of such a thing. I asked if those two families might be assigned to me? There was some reluctance. I never knew whether they feared for my well being as I was willing to enter a hostile environment; or, if they were reluctant to give up the excuse not to visit those folks. After some persuasion I prevailed and was assigned Sue and Jan, both of whom had non-member husbands. I was handed their information with a caution, "Whatever you do, don't tell them you're their Home Teacher!"

"You want me to lie them?" was my response.

"Well no....."

"Then, I'll take it from here. Thanks!"

I knew Sue, she'd been baptized a Catholic so she could be wed to her husband at the Vatican in Rome. Still, her membership was on our records as well. That afternoon my wife and I went over to see Sue and Roger. They were probably the most wealthy folks in our Ward. Sweetie and Sue had known one another for a long time and we were welcomed in with open arms. We sat down and had a bit of a conversation at which point I announced that I was their new Home Teacher.

"We don't do Home Teachers!" was Sue's abrupt reply.

"You do now." I said.

"No we don't." She countered.

"Are you kicking us out?" I asked.

"Well, no..."

I thanked her for not kicking us out and explained that the role of Home Teacher was to watch over and care for those in his charge. Then I asked, "Don't you want to be watched over and cared for?"

"I don't mind someone keeping an eye on the house when we're out of town." she stated.

"I'm your man!"

"I don't want the gospel crammed down my throat!"

"I'm still your man."

We hammered out a few more details and were off and running. Over the course of the next years I did watch her house when she was out of town and weeded her flower beds and kept up her lawns and made regular visits. Sue and Roger took us out to dinner once and every month Sue baked us a pie.

Roger came down with bone cancer. He suffered with a great deal of pain. At Christmas time I stopped by with some goodies and found him watching a video tape of the Tabernacle Choir singing Holiday songs. Tears were streaming down Roger's cheeks. I made some remark about out touching their music was and Roger explained, that though that was true, it wasn't the reason he was feeling such emotion. He went on to explain that he'd grown up on South Temple and had lived next door to the Richard's. If the Thomas kids and the Richards kids weren't climbing around in the belfry of St Madeleine's they were crawling through the rafters of the Tabernacle.

"I love the Latter-day Saints they were such a big part of my youth and now you've given that gift back to me."

I never baptized Roger, nor did Sue ever return to activity in the Church, but I was their Home Teacher.

Now on to Jan, the other member who didn't want Home Teachers.

Jan was a bit tougher nut to crack. Members of the Church had so embittered her that she wouldn't even speak to us. Now I'm not saying there was no fault on her part, but I am saying that we are sometimes less than kind to those who don't conform to our standards. Her husband Ron, however, was very welcoming. If Jan came to the door, we stood on the porch. If Ron did, we were invited in for an enjoyable conversation, but Jan never came into the room. I suspected a few times that she was eaves dropping around the corner. Then Jan came down with lung cancer. We never saw Jan again. Ron still welcomed us and we always asked about Jan. Her prognosis wasn't good. Sweetie'd heard that fresh vegetables, especially cabbage, broccoli and cauliflower were good for cancer patients. Every Saturday, she made a big salad with heavy emphasis on those three ingredients. Using a whole head of each, plus the lettuce, onions, carrots and such, made for a big salad. Enough for us and for Jan and Ron. Each Saturday for months we took them a salad. Ron always thanked us warmly and told us how much Jan loved that weekly treat, that lasted for several days.

We never did have a conversation with Jan. Rarely saw her. Just before she died though, she phoned and asked if I would speak at her funeral. She didn't have much else to say. There wasn't much to say. In her own way she had acknowledged and expressed appreciation for Home Teachers.

I don't suppose Lamoni was too keen on having Ammon come around either, but he accepted Ammon's service and devotion. Ammon wasn't in it for Ammon. He was in it for Lamoni and he was clearly in it for the long haul, at considerable sacrifice to his own convenience. He never pushed anything upon Lamoni. He just cared for him, until Lamoni sought for more. What a classic example.

I would have been so easy for the Sons of Mosiah to say, "Well, the Lamanites don't accept missionaries." And left it at that. Are we willing to make such a puny excuse?

Improving Home Teaching From Another Perspective

2011-01-10T08:20:00.000-07:00

My good friend Carl, tells a story of a new Home Teaching assignment. He and his companion, his son, were given a sweet widow to visit. They made their first appointment and went to see her on the last day of the month. She sweetly invited them in and listened attentively to the lesson. When it was time for them to go she excused herself for a moment and returned to present them with a cake. A cracked, dried out, slightly dusty old cake. Carl asked, "What's this?"

"This is your Home Teaching cake. I bake one for my Home Teachers every month. I'm sorry its in such bad shape, I baked it on the first day of the month."

They never procrastinated getting to that house again.

Do you think her encouragement was out of line? I presently Home Teach a Sister who pretty much instructed me when I was to come and that is when I go.

What do we do to encourage our Home Teachers? Do we make ourselves available? Do we make them feel welcome? Do we ask them when they are coming? Do we call on them to help us when we need it? I think we should.

From the days when as a Teacher, I heard my companions ask those we visited, "Is there anything we can do for you?" Never in nearly forty years did anyone ever express a need that their Home Teachers could fulfill. There was the occasional call for a blessing once I'd received the Melchizedek Priesthood, but never anything else. That is, until I was called to Home Teach Jude. He was a tough old farmer as well as a prosperous businessman. He never came to Church. He always welcomed us in. I don't think he liked our first lesson, but he listened to it. When, at the end of the visit, I asked if there was anything we could do for he and his wife. I'd been condition to expect some answer like, "Naw, we're doing just fine." Instead Jude said, "Yessirree, there sure is!"

Timidly I asked, "What would that be."

"I'd like you to read that book about The Mountain Meadows Massacre and report on it to me next month." He went to his bookshelf, took it down and handed it to me.

I didn't know what to say, so I took it. I took it home and read it. I more than read it, I studied it. I wanted to give a report that would look favorable to the church while acknowledging the reality of that horrific event. Apparently, my report was satisfactory. Certainly, our conversation at that next visit was interesting.

I can't believe I succumbed to habit and asked again if there was anything we could do. There was. This time it was to read No Man Knows My History by Fawn Brodie. I read that too, as well as No Mame That's Not History by Hugh Nibley. The discussion the next month was quite lively, but Jude seemed content when we were finished. Perhaps I had been exonerated for actually reading Anti-Mormon literature.

One time I'd read the Autobiography of Elmer Bair. Elmer was Patriarch of the Meeker Stake in Colorado. I knew Elmer, as he lived in my daughter's Ward in Glenwood Springs. I told some of the story to Jude and Marilyn. Jude not only read the book, but got so excited they drove over to meet him themselves. Elmer, a sheep man, was 99 years old at the time. Jude started coming to Church after that.

Another time Jude had read a collection of old pioneer stories about our town. One of the stories was about a man who'd been buried alive and died in the casket. My assignment that month was to locate his grave so Jude and I could go there and pay our respects on Memorial Day. As Jude put it, "That man deserves a handful of posies!"

If we want to improve Home Teaching, lets make use of our Home Teachers. Let's make it plain that we need them. Let's make their effort worthwhile. President Spencer W. Kimball once said of our youth, that they don't often walk away and leave their duty undone if they are given something significant to do. Neither do Home Teachers. Of course it would be nice if they just saw what needed to be done and did it. Or if they received such notions by revelation. Sometimes they actually do. But, these are men after all, and quite often, though more that willing to serve, could use a few hints and maybe even the occasional 2X4.

Home Teaching With the Spirit

2011-01-08T12:20:00.001-07:00

Who would dare to presume to go into a home as a representative of the Lord without first seeking the Lord's guidance and blessing through prayer. Me. I've done that very thing far too often. Be it resolved that from hence forth, I will cease and desist that prideful practice. Dear Brother Pennington taught me this principle when he came over to train me as a Family History records extractor. He was appalled that I just set to work on my extraction without ever pausing to seek the grace of God to influence my errand. Thank you Ned for your kind counsel. Each set of Home Teachers ought to seek the Lord in order to best meet the needs of each family they are assigned. How much better and easier our work will be under the direction of God.

We've all heard horror stories of tactless and hurtful things spoken to people newly returning to activity. Or of offensive things spoken by Home Teachers to families they visit. Is it any wonder that many people would just plain prefer not to have anyone visit them any more. The only sure way to ensure that the things we say and do in our Home Teaching assignments are beneficial, not detrimental, is to speak the words of Christ as directed by the Holy Ghost.

For this reason, it is inappropriate to script in advance, the things one might say. We as leaders need to shy away from giving examples of other's success stories without making it plain that what was said successfully in situation A, might not fly in situation B. How grateful I am that the Holy Ghost will guide the words I speak so that I have no fear of stepping beyond my bounds. Only God knows what is best spoken in each particular case.

I believe that one of the key reasons members of the Church have been notorious for resisting the repeated invitations to go out and be member missionaries; is because they've been told what to say and do and when they get out there, the Spirit counsels otherwise. How often were we told in my own youth to GQ everybody. GQ meaning to ask the Golden Question, "What do you know about the Mormon Church? Would you like to know more?" How many times were those questions flatly rejected because the candidate was no where near prepared to answer in a "golden" way. I'm certain that the reluctance I felt and often over rode in a determination to be obedient was the Spirit whispering, "He's not ready yet. Take some time, be patient, loving, friendly, exemplary and the day will come when he will ask you."

Now don't get me wrong. GQing worked. Hundreds joined the church after being asked that question. Often it was the perfect question, but more often it was not. Perhaps influenced by a sales mentality the GQ movement was a numbers game. Ask enough people and a certain percentage will buy. If all we're about is getting numbers then what of those, who might respond to a gentler, more patient approach. We were told on my mission that if we couldn't get them into the water is six weeks, we were to abandon them and move on to greener pastures. What if the Elders and Sisters who taught Agusto Lim did that. It took nine months of continual visits to prepare him for baptism. Since then he's been a General Authority, Mission President, Temple president and much more. I mention him because he was in our Mission Presidency when I was in the Philippines and he hated that "six weeks" policy.

"Six Weeks" and "GQ" have largely disappeared from our culture, but their effects remain among many of us. Especially for those who are goal oriented and desire impressive numbers. It is easy for those to whom numbers are important to abandon the slow ones for the "golden" ones. What a sin, to declare anyone less than golden. What a sin to ignore, abandon, reject or neglect those who don't make us look good. God wants all of His children home, not just some of them. If we Home Teach by the Spirit, we will know that and our efforts will be congruent with that knowledge.

Sometimes the things we say and do with the Spirit have less to do with words and more to do with feelings. I once had a wonderful young Aaronic Priesthood companion who taught me this lesson in a very poignant way. We had visited the home of Sister Wilson for months. She was in her late eighties and had not been to church since she was a girl. She was always sweet, hospitable and welcoming. She didn't resist having lessons, but she specifically rejected my invitations to attend church. One day she asked why Kaleo never gave the lesson. I was quite chagrined that I had never shared that assignment with my companion. We promised that he would give the lesson on our next visit. I reminded him of the assignment when we made our appointment for the next month. Arriving at Sister Wilson's home we chatted for a moment and then I turned the time to Kaleo for the lesson. He fumbled in his shirt pocket for a slip of paper. Opening it, he explained that he didn't know what to teach and that his mother had found this poem for him to read. There was nothing particularly special about the poem to me and Kaleo was a bit awkward in reading it. When he finished though, he looked at Sister Wilson with tears shining in his dark eyes and said. "I love my Mother."

That was it. We had a prayer and left. The following Sunday as I walked into the Chapel I found Sister Wilson there sitting on the back row. I sat beside her and welcomed her to church. I couldn't help but ask why she'd changed her mind after all the invitations I'd proffered. Her answer I'll never forget. She said, "When Kaleo looked into my eyes and told me how much he loved his Mother, a feeling came over me that I cannot describe. I felt that love and more. I felt a beautiful peace I have never felt before. I came to church today hoping to feel that feeling once again." She did and remained faithful; attending church and serving in the temple for another decade; well into her nineties. Sister Wilson had monetarily felt the Comforter in her life and was for ever changed because a young Aaronic Priesthood holder brought the Spirit into her home that day.

Our task as Home Teachers is to bring God into people's lives. Not the concept of God, but God himself, are we doing that? Really?

Even More Thoughts on Home Teaching

2011-01-07T04:21:00.004-07:00

The new Handbook 2 gives the following directive to Home Teachers:

Home teaching is one way Heavenly Father blesses His children. Home teachers “visit the house of each member, exhorting them to pray vocally and in secret and attend to all family duties” (D&C 20:51). They are assigned to families and individuals to “watch over … and be with and strengthen them” (D&C 20:53). They “warn, expound, exhort, and teach, and invite all to come unto Christ” (D&C 20:59).

Then the handbook goes on to offer ways in which this might be done:

Where possible, home teachers visit members in their homes at least monthly. Home teachers may also find other meaningful ways to watch over and strengthen the families they are assigned. For example, they may render service to the families or contact family members by mail or telephone.

Ideally, a face to face visit is best. And under that ideal situation phone and correspondence would only enhance the existing in home visits. This language, though, seems to open the way for letters, email, texting, phoning, internet chatting, Skype, Facebook etc. as viable means of accomplishing the task of being with and watching over the families we are assigned.

Lets face it there are plenty of circumstances that are outside the norm. I know a Bishop who has pretty much turned his Priests Quorum around by texting them. The key is communication and, being in the 21st Century as we are, it is time to look to means of communication we had not considered before. If we haven't the resources to visit every home, we certainly do to send a letter to every home. If we can't stop in, we might at least make a serious phone call.

What I am getting at here is that we need to be thinking outside the traditional box if we are to fully perform our duty as Home Teachers. I'd like to see us getting 100% and if that means sending a personalized newsletter in the absence of a warm body, we ought to do at least that.

Addtionally, the new handbook suggests a few stop gap measures:

With approval from the bishop, Melchizedek Priesthood leaders and Relief Society leaders may temporarily assign only home teachers or only visiting teachers to certain families. In some cases, leaders may assign home teachers to visit a family one month and assign visiting teachers to visit Relief Society members in that family the next month.

This is a great, though temporary, solution. Especially, when coupled with this:

In some locations, visiting every home each month may not be possible for a time because of insufficient numbers of active priesthood holders or other challenges. In these circumstances, leaders give priority to visiting new members, less-active members who are most likely to respond to invitations to return to Church activity, and members with serious needs.

And this:

Quorum and group leaders assign the most effective home teachers to members who need them most. When assigning home teachers, leaders give highest priority to new members, less-active members who may be the most receptive, and others who have the greatest need for home teachers, such as single parents, widows, and widowers. It is often helpful to assign a youth leader to a family where a young man or young woman is experiencing special challenges. Home teachers should be assigned to converts before the converts are baptized.

I think with the guidelines given and the latitude allowed, we can effectively reach everyone in our Ward despite a deficit in the number of active Home Teachers available. We are just going to have to abandon the old conventions and start adopting the new.

A few other "out of the box" examples come to mind:

We have a brother who is home bound. At a rather advanced age, his body is giving up on him, but his mind and spirit are still marvelously bright. I would be willing to go to his home to be Home Taught. That would free up my Home Teacher to go somewhere else. I suppose there are other valiant families in our Ward who would be willing to make the same accommodation. Who says he has to come to me to be an effective Home Teacher?
We have three widows who live in adjacent apartments. Would they be willing to be visited together in one or other of their units freeing up a pair of Home Teachers to go to two other families? They have Family Home Evening together once a week anyway.
Occasionally, we have husband and wife companionships. What if they were assigned another husband and wife companionship and could thus home and visiting teach one another in one visit. That frees up each couple to take one more family.
So you have a family that is hard to catch at home. How about taking 20 minutes after church to sit down with them in a classroom on Sunday before you all head home.
Suppose you are a business man who travels a lot. You might be assigned families with the internet and could visit them on Skype from your hotel room. How fun to be Home Taught from Hong Kong or London or Gusher. I realize this solution might make it hard to go with your companion. Still, with the Bishop's approval, perhaps a companion would not be called for as there are no safety concerns at such a distance.

The possibilities are almost endless.

Our Ward has a pretty long list of those who refuse to receive Home Teachers. I personally love to take on those challenges and have yet to fail to get in on a regular basis. I have had to be a bit less traditional in my approach to these families, but I have never failed to be able to meet with them on a monthly basis. As High Priests Group Leader, I don't expect this of all of my Home Teachers, but I do have some who would get out of their comfort zone and make the attempt.

I have one fellow right now who I plan on asking out to coffee in the morning. Of course I will have hot cocoa or something, but I feel certain that he'd love to get out of the house and chum with a buddy at the coffee shop. He will be more comfortable on neutral ground, so will I. He won't feel judged for his Word of Wisdom problem, because I'm the one who suggested it. We can begin building a relationship of trust. Once that is established my new friend and the Lord can take it from there. I'll be handily in a position to help as needed. Hopefully, when the weather warms we can move from the coffee shop to the fishing hole, but who knows, we might form a group and Bob and John and Larry, who are also less active might join us to be Home Taught on a regular basis. Fred, the first guy is a Teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood. He can be my Home Teaching companion.

When I was a Stake Missionary we began teaching a woman whose husband was a less-active member. Soon they were both coming to Church. In no time he accepted a call to be a Home Teacher. He was devoted to the call. One day after we'd taught a discussion to his wife he mentioned that it was getting close to the end of the month and that his companion was out of town. I volunteered to go with him. We visited one of his families who hadn't been to church in years. He invited the brother to come to Priesthood Meeting telling him what a good time he was having in the Elders Quorum. The brother responded, saying, "I'd feel uncomfortable coming back to church. You see, I chew tobacco." His new Home Teacher replied, "So do I," which left him totally without excuse. He came to church.

How's that for a good example. We don't have to be an example of one who pretends to be perfect. What's wrong with being an example of flawed mortal beings attempting, through the Atonement of Christ, to improve. Then those we hope to help can better see how that is done.

More Thoughts on Home Teaching

2011-01-05T10:41:00.001-07:00

I don't think the Home Teacher's job is to be a catalyst for change. Still, I have been taught quite often in various ways to try to tip the balance in peoples lives in order to get them back to church. While I have seen that method seem to work and while I've seen a number of Home Teachers take credit for such; I strongly suspect that the facts are that something else stimulated the change, the people were sufficiently humble, and the Home Teachers were simply fortunate to be in the right place at the right time.

God uses life as change's catalyst. I've seen it over and over, especially in 12 Step settings. So often has a person turned up a meetings because it was mandated by the court as part of a rehabilitation process. So often that person made all the meetings and said all the right things and then stopped coming as soon as they were no longer under the judge's jurisdiction. We're cool with that. We in recovery understand that if they are not ready yet, God will use life to get them ready. We have learned to be patient and let God's process work. It is easy to tell when it has; when that person who so blithely left our company comes crawling back with a new found humility and a deeper awareness of need. You might ask then, what do we do at the meetings. We simply share our experience, strength and hope with those who come. We don't preach. We don't scold. We don't even give advice. Who are we to tell others how to live their lives. In sharing our own experience with addiction and the process of recovery we are offering hope and testimony which are really the only things they need. They already know they need to make changes. They already know what they're doing wrong. They already feel guilty and full of sorrow. They don't need any of that from us. What they need is the hope and belief and tools they can use to do something about it. And they need to know that someone understands and cares and might help. Also, they need to spend time in places where they can feel and comfortably enjoy the Spirit. They need a place safe from condemnation, recrimination, accusation and manipulation.

I bring this up because most of those we Home Teach who are not active in the Church are dealing with some sort of addiction. They are in a trap they have no idea how to climb out of.

Now, when we go into someone's home are we creating that kind of an environment for them? Are we building? Or are we wrecking? I'm confident that those who reject Home Teachers have had plenty of condemnation, recrimination, accusation and manipulation. It has come from parents, spouses, friends, law enforcement, the pulpit and yes, even Home Teachers. Is it any wonder they want no more of it.

Now, what can we do to correct this? The answer lies in what the Church Missionary program calls BRT, Building Relationships of Trust. These people in our charge are tender, fearful, banged up and wary. It may take a good deal of unconditional love to get them to let down their guard. It will take: long-suffering, gentleness, meekness and love unfeigned. It will take kindness and pure knowledge and a complete lack of hypocrisy and guile. You will notice that I left off persuasion. I wanted to discuss that one a bit further. At first, at least we are not there to persuade them to come to Church. Lets start with the basics. Lets persuade them that we can be trusted. Trusted to love them for who they are, right where they are. In this kind of persuasion actions speak far louder than words. The second we put conditions upon that love, were done.

I'll finish with a story. I lived for in a small town the years I was in 7th and 8th Grades. I had a friend there, we'll call him Jim. Years later when I was nearing 40 my occupation took me back to that town. One of the people I was dealing with bore the same last name as Jim. I inquired after him. It turned out the lady was Jim's wife. We'll call her Sue. Immediately, Sue hastened to explain that Jim was no longer the reprobate he once was. I explained that he was a fine fellow when I knew him. She then proceeded to tell me his story. After they married, Jim became an alcoholic. He couldn't keep a job. He was in an out of jail. He'd lost his drivers license to a string of DUIs. He'd lived a tough life.

I asked, "So he's doing better now?"

"Yes, much better!" was her reply. She went on to tell me about it. We had two wonderful Home Teachers. They came to our home on a regular basis. Jim would never stay in the room when they came by the house. (He obviously had his guard up.) Our Home Teachers were always there for us. They never made Jim feel shunned or disapproved of. When they saw him on the street they would always wave and smile. Occasionally, they would catch him in the yard and just visit. Then one day they came to the house when Sue was out. Jim apparently forgot to peek out the window before answering the door. Seeing who it was Jim told them that Sue wasn't home and that they might want to come back later. They pointed out that they were his Home Teachers too and would love to visit with him. There was a long awkward moment before Jim finally asked them to come in and sit down.

The Home Teachers went in, treated Jim with respect. Deliberately avoided conversation that might make Jim uncomfortable. They never asked if he'd found a job yet, for instance. They never mentioned that he'd recently been in jail. They never condemned him for the pain he'd put his wife through. They never even mentioned the church. What they did do, was express an interest in Jim and those things that were of interest to him. Jim is an excellent wood carver and they got him showing and teaching about his craft. After twenty minutes, they got up, shook his hand, thanked him for sharing his gift with them and excused themselves. When the Home Teachers got to their car, Jim came running out and invited them back in. They returned to the house. Seated back on the couch one of the brethren asked Jim what he wanted. Jim said that he didn't really know. He went on, a bit embarrassed, to say that he'd just felt so good when they were there and that when they left he'd felt lousy again. He didn't want to feel lousy right then, so he ran out and asked them to come back so he could feel that good feeling some more. You can imagine what happened next.

Sue told me with tears in her eyes how thankful she was for good Home Teachers who did nothing more than love her husband just the way he was. They didn't bring Jim to the point where he wanted to change. They were just patient enough to wait, love, serve and be there on the day that time had come.