Showing posts with label temple. Show all posts
Showing posts with label temple. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

The Story Isn't Yet Written


Though I have a lot of thoughts I would like to share (most of which originated with listening to the FAIR podcast over the last few weeks), I will narrow the focus here in an attempt to get these thoughts out so I can move on to my homework!

At the temple on Saturday I saw a woman at her locker who was very  obviously pregnant. She asked me for a favor and when I said yes, she turned around and asked if I would zip up her dress. I chuckled and said that I would and asked her how far along she was.

"32 weeks. It might be my last time here for a while."

"In this dress, I think you are right!" We both laughed as I wrenched the zipper and she explained that she was having a third boy. I empathized and as I finished zipping I noticed a large-ish, faded, though once brightly-colored tattoo between this sister's shoulder blades. Her temple dress just barely covered it. She smiled, thanked me, and moved on.

And it was at that moment that I learned what I was meant to learn in the temple that day. When Sister Preggers got that tattoo a decade or so ago she was likely in a very different place in her life. Perhaps she'd never heard of the gospel and was just doing what all of her friends were doing; perhaps she'd been a member all her life and this was an act of desperate rebellion; perhaps her mother cried her eyes out when she saw the tattoo wondering if her daughter would ever come back the fold . . . . there are many possible scenarios. However, it is probably safe to say that she wasn't thinking/didn't care about what the prophets have counseled in the last 15 years regarding tattoos and piercings, nor how her Heavenly Father might feel about her marking her body that way.

But it occurred to me that even if there was sorrow among those who loved her at the moment of her marking herself in her rebellion, that it doesn't matter now. Her temple dress handily covered the outward manifestation and her covenants have taken care of the inward decisions that drove her to it. When we willingly come to Christ, the atonement can take care of everything. But unlike the temple dress, the atonement doesn't just cover the sins, it obliterates them.

And I realized something else: the story isn't yet written on any of us. A tattoo might mark the body, but there are other, darker things that mar the soul. Things that only Christ in his mercy can root out; only His grace can make us new people with changed hearts and willing hands. My story isn't yet written for good or bad. Just as I'm engraven upon His palms, I want His admonition and love and healing sacrifice written in the fleshy tablets of my heart. I want His words written on me. His countenance in mine. My hands to be His hands.

Friday, February 19, 2010

28 Days of L-O-V-E

Day 18

I love weather good enough to inspire spring cleaning. The actual cleaning, not so much. It is going to be a long, exhausting weekend. But very, very sunny. You know that time of year when you just aren't sure if spring will really come back around? Today I was reminded that it always does.


Day 19

I love looking forward to a date. Especially tonight's--we are headed to the temple. I realize that we can hardly call our service there a sacrifice, compared to what many members in the world must do to attend, (in Plantboy's mission, attendees had to use half a year's wages to take a boat four days up the Amazon and then get on a bus for 48 hours straight, it is slightly better now, but still a major ordeal) but it is still a seven-hour excursion for us start to finish when we throw in a fancy dinner at Jack in the Box. The kids are finally old enough that I feel okay about leaving them with a teen-babysitter and they will be asleep a big chunk of the time.

I've been feeling lately that I need the temple more than ever in my life, which unfortunately corresponds to the time in my life when it is the hardest to get there. I have to admit, I am really struggling right now. I think I may have a taste of what depression feels like. Any thoughts on this?

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Flipping. Deseret. Book.

It is pretty much no secret that these folks are not going to be making my favorites list anytime soon, but recent events take the cake.

I live nearly two hours from the nearest Deseret Book. (Yes, Mom, you'd refer to this as "the mission field.") For one of our crafty-day projects, in October, if you recall, we made these photo album Sacrament quiet books. I wrote a little doctrinal thing about the sacrament, simplified for young kids, to match the pictures in Greg Olsen's small picture kit called "Images of the Savior." You put the words and pictures mounted into a photo album. The result is quite sweet. These cost about $8 each to make and several sisters signed up for multiples in order to give them to grandkids for Christmas.

Eighteen kits ended up being ordered. As soon as I had the money, two weeks before the Souper Saturday, I got on-line and ordered what I wanted. I put the money in my account and then I waited. And waited. And waited.

The day before I needed them, I called Deseret Book. Sorry, they are on backorder. Hmm . . . and you didn't let me know this over my email because? I mean, isn't that the POINT of having such technology? Not to worry, they assured me, they will be here in mid-November.

I passed on that information and when I had nothing by the 20th of November, and also realized they had never charged my card to begin with, I called again. Sorry they are on backorder. Again? Do you ever tell people anything? Well, she said sweetly (she is probably somebody's grandmother), I can tell you that our next shipment will be here December 14th and that we will FedEx them to you right away. OoooKaaaaaaaay. Oh, and you have until the 4th to cancel the order if you need to.

I spent a good chunk of the rest of that day calling the women who had signed up for the project to find out if they wanted me to cancel their orders and they could just get them at DB next time they were there? I could refund money? You know the drill. It was a huge headache.

Then, Saturday, I went to the temple with a friend who was getting her endowment. It was a lovely day, if a bit hectic. (Plantboy and I went together and left the kids for a few hours with a friend that moved there from our ward. It turned out to be an 8 hour round trip. And while it seems really sacrificial and righteous for the temple to be such an effort, I mostly just grumble and wish it was closer.) On a whim, we found the Deseret Book and hunted all over for the pictures.

I think the pictures are on backorder because the Portland Store is hoarding at least 250 of these things.

Very cleverly, I put 18 of these babies on my credit card. Plantboy, acting as the voice of reason for a change, said, "are you sure you can cancel the other?" Oh, yes, I assured him, I have until the fourth. But this is perfect. Everyone will now get them well in time for Christmas and I don't have to deal with it any more.

Sunday I took an hour and half to deliver them. Why so long? At every stop I was asked to do something. Each request was prefaced with, "I'm so glad you dropped by! I've been meaning to call you . . . " Monday I crashed big time. Don't even ask me how many hours I read or what kind of cheesy re-read romance novels I had my nose stuck into. (Okay, one of my selections was Twilight; and no, my opinion has NOT changed.)

Yesterday morning, I opened my e-mail to find the following cheery message from Deseret Book, "You're order: qty 18 "Images of the Savior" has been shipped!"

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How is the h*** is November 25th the equivalent of December 15??? By what stretch of the imagination is "you have until December 4th to cancel" the equivalent of them sending the cards Sunday night? When I called, the grandmotherly voice on the other end apologized about 400 times, all the while repeatedly telling me that there is no way that a representative from Deseret Book would have given me an exact shipping date and then gave me a crash course in the logistics of DB's ordering structure. She also emphasized how unreliable ordering over the Internet was and that they would be happy to take a phone order any time. Thanks for that. She did, however, graciously offer to send me a return slip. Here is how this will play: I get the order; I wait for the return labels; I repackage the order so that it doesn't say "FedEx" anymore; I drag my pre-schooler and toddler to the post office to mail the thing; I wait for the order to clear through DB and THEN I get refunded. Oh, yeah, my checking account SO needed the $80 hit four weeks before Christmas.

I must go bake. It will help to ease some of my anger at the universe. On the upside, I caught Tiny Fey as a pirate on Sesame Street this morning. She said that they needed to come up with some words that began with a pirate's favorite letter.

Yes, Yes, I thought it was "RRRRRRRRRRR" too.

But no, Tina argues, pirates love F-words. Well, that seems appropriate too.

Gratitude. Gratitude. Must remember to be grateful . . . .

Monday, September 01, 2008

Talk From Sunday

In case you are thinking this is getting repetitive, I did do a fireside last November and speak in Sacrament meeting less than a year ago. There is a new counselor in the bishopbric over talks and I am thinking that he lost the original list or something. At least I gave a new talk. That is more than I can say for . . . well, I won't go there. Because it was a REALLY great talk: who cares if he gave it twice?

I am not sure how well this will load because of the footnotes (I know that seems a little, well, over the top, but somebody wanted a copy so I was more careful than normal). It is also quite lengthy; I'm too lazy on our last day of summer vacation to edit. What I WOULD like to know, however is if anybody knows where I can get some extremely cheap and user friendly web hosting for PDF pages? I am thinking of publishing some of my stuff on-line, linking it through here and removing all personal identification from my manuscripts, but the blogger format is all wrong. I want to link PDF protected pages from my home page. Anyway, if you have any advice, skip the talk, and make a comment to give it to me.


Preparedness

When we were given the topic of “preparedness” today, I immediately thought about food storage and panicked. Once my mind began seeing past hundreds of quarts of canned peaches that I don’t have, however, there was a story that came very clearly to me that I wanted to share. It was not immediately apparent why I should, but as I’ve pondered and prayed, I understand why the Lord would have me share this very personal experience.

During my freshman year of college, there were a series of difficult trials that happened to several friends and family members. Although none of these trials happened to me directly, each circumstance greatly affected my outlook. I had been raised in the church, but it wasn’t until I was faced with such life-altering trials that I really began to seek and find my testimony. And then, during finals week of my freshman year, President Benson died. Within days of the funeral, President Howard W. Hunter was sustained prophet and held a press conference.

Wasting no time in declaring his prophetic vision for the church, this soft-spoken and gentle man said that he had two directives for Church members. The first was to look to the Savior as the supreme example in our lives, doing in all things what he would do. He then said,

“Secondly, and in that same spirit, I also invite the members of the Church to establish the temple of the Lord as the great symbol of their membership and the supernal setting for their most sacred covenants. It would be the deepest desire of my heart to have every member of the Church be temple worthy. I would hope that every adult member would be worthy of—and carry—a current temple recommend, even if proximity to a temple does not allow immediate or frequent use of it.

“Let us be a temple-attending and a temple-loving people. Let us hasten to the temple as frequently as time and means and personal circumstances allow. Let us go not only for our kindred dead, but let us also go for the personal blessing of temple worship, for the sanctity and safety which is provided within those hallowed and consecrated walls. The temple is a place of beauty, it is a place of revelation, it is a place of peace. It is the house of the Lord. It is holy unto the Lord. It should be holy unto us.”[1]

Perhaps I had matured, or because of my new-found testimony, it was the first time I remembered really standing up and taking note of what the prophet said. I replayed those words of the temple as “the great symbol of our membership.” That resonated with me, even though I had very little understanding of what he meant.

In October of that year, his first presidency message in the Ensign reiterated the charge[2]. Just a week after the issue came out, he spoke in conference. He again shared a similar message, encouraging us to display pictures of the temple in our homes. He also mentions the upcoming dedication of the Bountiful Temple and said, “My brothers and sisters, I testify that the impressions of the Spirit have weighed heavily upon me in considering these matters.”[3]

It turned out that nearly a million people toured the Bountiful Temple in November and December of 1994[4]. My parents had tickets for a tour on a November evening. The temple was nearly two hours away from where I attended college at Utah State University in Logan, but I decided to attend with my parents anyway. Snow was forecast for that day, but without too much worry I set off. The temple was lovely and the rooms were incredible. I remember especially the bride’s room. However, it was also very crowded, and there was no explanation provided for the purpose of the various rooms. Between the crowds and my confusion, my experience was not exactly what I had hoped for. I was not sorry I had gone, certainly, but I had not felt the spirit the way I expected. When we were done touring the temple, I went with my parents back to my home in Ogden, where they encouraged me to stay for the night. I had early classes, however, and decided to be on my way.

All started well on my journey back to my apartment, but about five minutes after entering Sardine Canyon, the snow began in earnest. Besides the snow rushing at my windshield like the Millennium Falcon rushing into hyperspace, it was very foggy. I slowed down to a crawl, not able to see more than a few feet in front of me, my headlights actually exacerbating the effects of snow and fog. I have driven that canyon literally hundreds of times in my life and I can only remember a handful of instances when conditions were that bad. I knew I was in serious trouble if I went off the road. The only shoes I had with me were the dress shoes I was wearing; my only coat, a thin dress coat. I didn’t have food or water in the car. I didn’t have a phone to call for help. I didn’t have a shovel in case digging myself out became necessary. I went at a snail’s pace for nearly ten miles. With relief, I could tell from the lay of the road that I was nearing the end of the canyon.

Whenever I drive into Cache Valley, particularly at night, the first thing I look for in the distance is the temple. It is built on a bluff just in front of the mouth of another canyon through the mountains to the east. As you enter the valley from the south, the temple stands out brightly, with its white spires illuminated bluish white every night. Though it is nearly pushed up against the east mountains, you get the impression that it actually stands on a large hill right in the center of the valley. The pioneers chose their site for the temple very well.

But that night, as I exited the canyon with 10 miles to go to my apartment just blocks from the temple, I still couldn’t see a thing. The snow had let up, but the fog was as bad as ever. My habit for getting to my apartment was to go up around the temple, even though the route took a few extra minutes, because it was a pretty drive. Despite the terrible visibility and little hope of seeing anything, I kept to my routine and drove up around the temple. I nearly ran off the road as I rounded the curve.

As if someone had turned on a switch, the temple was suddenly before me, blazingly bright and seeming to rise up out of the fog. Its parking lot was empty, covered only with a layer of fresh new snow. The quiet was intense and lovely as I pulled over carefully and just stared for several minutes, feeling the manifestation in my spirit that I had not felt inside the cozy and warm temple from the hours previous. I knew with all my heart that I wanted to be inside that sacred building, that I wanted to understand what President Hunter meant when he said that the temple should be the symbol of our membership.

But I knew something else. I knew that I was no more prepared to be in that glorious building than I was to be driving through the canyon that night.

I’m going to relate the symbols of what I was missing from my car that day to things I was also missing from my life. As I do, please carefully consider the things in your own life that may need putting in order so that we might each claim the blessings that our Father in Heaven is standing ready to give us.

1) Boots. If something had gone wrong and I had to get out of my car, I would have been wet to my nyloned knees in the ridiculous shoes I was wearing.

Just as my shoes would have allowed me to do little more than mince and slip in the snow, the faith I was exercising at that time in my life was weak and tentative. In 1997, the sesquicentennial of the pioneer’s arrival in Utah, President Hinckley narrated a remarkable documentary, shown in conference, titled Faith in Every Footstep[5]. There was a lovely hymn of the same title composed that same year to honor the anniversary[6]. In the documentary, President Hinckley and his counselors spoke with fervor and testimony about the faith of our early pioneer ancestors. They were a people who understood that faith was not just about believing, but that true faith inspires you to act, time and time again, even against overwhelming odds and challenges.

My own faith was not like this. I had not learned to trust the Lord. Despite many wonderful and subtle spiritual experiences through my teenage years, I asked time and time again for a manifestation about the truthfulness of the gospel. I was not unlike Oliver Cowdery. Even with experience after experience, Oliver still petitioned Joseph to ask the Lord to send him another witness. The Lord’s reply to Oliver’s question is loving, but there is a distinct rebuke also.

“Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might aknow concerning the truth of these things. Did I not speak apeace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater bwitness can you have than from God?[7]

I needed to trust the many witnesses I had received from God and move forward; taking my turn to serve others and live the religion I knew to be true. Now, true faith was the first piece of preparation, but not the only one. From the scripture just shared, we see that Oliver was admonished to greater faith by listening to and trusting the Holy Ghost. This leads me to the second thing that would have been useful.

2) I needed something to keep me warm.

This symbol should be a little more obvious. The Savior himself said just hours before his atonement, “But the aComforter, which is the bHoly Ghost, whom the Father will send in my cname, he shall dteach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.[8]

I love the word “comforter.” I think there is no better description of the way the Holy Ghost can help us to feel. In a world of turmoil and difficulty, indeed, there is no greater need than this marvelous feeling of comfort. In addition to providing feelings of comfort and peace, the Holy Ghost helps to guide and direct us in our decisions.

The importance of the Holy Ghost was a thing I did not understand when I was a teenager in the YW program. My leaders and seminary teachers always seemed so urgent about us gaining testimonies, and learning to recognize the Spirit. I just didn’t really see what the big deal was. It wasn’t until that first spring away from home when life’s major trials truly beset me for the first time that I understood why my leaders had tried so hard. Between the ages of 18 and 25, I made no fewer than eight major life decisions. Decisions that would have changed the whole course of my life and perhaps my eternity if they had been different. I don’t know how I would have done this without the influence of the Holy Ghost, or how I could have possibly had any confidence in my decisions without His powerful, guiding influence.

In a world where the philosophies of men are becoming increasingly confused with doctrines of God, it will be vital to listen to the Holy Ghost so that we might do what is right.

3) Though the events of that snowy night happened before it was common for college students to carry cell phones, a means of communication would have been a third highly useful thing to have.
The best means of communication that we have with the Lord is prayer. It can be done any time and anywhere. It can be done with much forethought or on a whim. Prayer can be formal in front of a congregation, or traveling in the car on the way to work. When we call on God in all sincerity, he will answer us. Alma the younger gave the following counsel to one of his sons:
“Yea, and acry unto God for all thy support; yea, let all thy bdoings be unto the Lord, and whithersoever thou goest let it be in the Lord; yea, let all thy cthoughts be directed unto the Lord; yea, let the affections of thy heart be placed upon the Lord forever.

“aCounsel with the Lord in all thy doings, and he will direct thee for bgood; yea, when thou liest down at night lie down unto the Lord, that he may watch over you in your sleep; and when thou risest in the cmorning let thy heart be full of thanks unto God; and if ye do these things, ye shall be lifted up at the last day.[9]

4) If the worst had happened and I had been stranded in my car for any length of time, I would have gotten hungry very quickly. You know what a humbling experience it can be to fast even a few hours. Our physical body can only survive a very short time without nourishment. Our spirits are no different.

In the last few chapters written by Nephi, he talks about the importance of reading the scriptures saying, “aAngels speak by the power of the Holy Ghost; wherefore, they speak the words of Christ. Wherefore, I said unto you, bfeast upon the cwords of Christ; for behold, the words of Christ will dtell you all things what ye should do.[10]

To bring this feasting image into more modern language, in 1988, President Benson gave a talk about one of his favorite topics, the Book of Mormon. He spoke at length about the potential he saw for the book in the hands of righteous and studied church members. My favorite part of his talk is specifically to missionaries, but his words can apply to all of us.

“We need to read daily from the pages of the [Book of Mormon] that will get a man ‘nearer to God by abiding by its precepts, than by any other book.’ I challenge all of us to prayerfully consider steps that we can personally take to bring this new witness for Christ more fully into our own lives and into a world that so desperately needs it. I have a vision of thousands of missionaries going into the mission field with hundreds of passages memorized from the Book of Mormon so that they might feed the needs of a spiritually famished world.[11]

I will not ask for a raise of hands for how many of you have hundreds of passages memorized from the Book of Mormon, but it should be apparent that we have a long way to go in how carefully we are reading this most sacred book, as well as our other scriptures. It is impossible to feed others if we ourselves are spiritually famished.

5) The last useful tool to me would have been a shovel. Sometimes you just have to dig yourself out.

Regardless of how much faith a person has or how often we read the scriptures, we are all just human, and mistakes will be made. This is part of our mortal experience. However, to be prepared for partaking the Lord’s covenants whether baptism or the sacrament or the temple, we must be humble enough to continually be in a state of repentance. As I’ve learned about and studied repentance I’ve come to see that repentance is much more than being sorry for the actions you’ve committed. It is even more than attempting to make reparations for the mistakes we’ve made. And it is more than merely promising never to commit these acts again. While each of these is an important part of the process of repentance, true repentance is more akin to conversion than apologizing. It is a complete bending of our will to our Father in Heaven’s so that our hearts are changed and we have no more disposition to do evil.

A few years ago, Elder Hafen gave one of the best talks that I have ever heard on the atonement. It was titled “All for All.” He explained that Christ is willing to put all he has on the line to save us, as long as we do the same. Obviously, what He brings to the table is much greater, but he accepts our best effort as enough. He then talked about trials and sin as part of ever mortal experience. He said,

“Adam and Eve learned constantly from their often harsh experience. They knew how a troubled family feels. Think of Cain and Abel. Yet because of the Atonement, they could learn from their experience without being condemned by it. Christ’s sacrifice didn’t just erase their choices and return them to an Eden of innocence. That would be a story with no plot and no character growth. His plan is developmental—line upon line, step by step, grace for grace.
“So if you have problems in your life, don’t assume there is something wrong with you. Struggling with those problems is at the very core of life’s purpose. As we draw close to God, He will show us our weaknesses and through them make us wiser, stronger. If you’re seeing more of your weaknesses that just might mean you’re moving nearer to God, not farther away [12].”

We all have difficulties that must be worked on. It is not a punishment to correct our lives to put them more in line with our Father’s will. It is instead a great blessing. Repentance allows us to “learn from our experience without being condemned by it.”

Obviously, any of these tools: faith, the influence of the Holy Ghost, prayer, scripture study and repentance could be a topic all on its own. I use them here to merely illustrate some things that can help prepare us to enter the temple.

After the Bountiful Temple’s dedication in January of 1995, President Hunter fell very ill as cancer spread through his body. His February message in the Ensign again reiterated his urgency to get members of the church to the temple[13]. On March 3, 1995 he passed away[14], just short of nine months after being called as prophet. His prophetic tenure was brief, but his message was powerful and sank deep into the hearts of the saints worldwide.

Almost exactly a year later I went to the Logan temple to receive my own endowment in preparation to serve a mission, thinking that I had arrived at some great destination. Instead, my temple experience, even from that very first day, showed me what President Hunter meant by the temple being a symbol. The temple was not actually an end in itself; it was a preparation for entering one day into God’s presence. The temple teaches us what is necessary to return to him.

As I made covenants there and participated in ordinances, I knew I was committing myself to a lifetime of service to the Lord: the temple was a beautiful representation of all that was possible if I kept my covenants. Yet the most powerful symbol for me that day came as I joined four generations of my family in the Celestial room. I cried as the spirit filled my whole soul, truly realizing for the first time that one of the Lord’s greatest promises is that God will allow our most cherished relationships on this earth to continue into the eternities.

Fairy tales always wrap up everything nice and neat with a “happily ever after” at the end of the story. Real life, however, is not quite that neat. Our lives continue long after the highs and lows: indeed we know that our lives will continue forever and we will constantly learn and struggle and triumph along the way. Some months after my endowment, I was serving my mission in a huge country with but a single temple. President Hinckley visited that great country in 1997 to tell the people in each of the major cities he visited that they would soon have temples too. The Lord had seen the faith of his people in following the admonition to carry recommends even if they had little opportunity to go to the temple: He would bring the temples to them. The Saints wept for joy at the news and I caught the tiniest glimpse of the thousands upon thousands of Saints who had taken President Hunter’s words to heart.

Each day is a preparation for eternity. I pray that each of us will look carefully at our lives and prune away what is unnecessary and spend our time instead focused on what the Lord tells us matters the most.

I know that as we prepare to one day enter the Lord’s presence there is no better voice to follow than the prophet. I have a testimony that President Monson is a prophet today, and that the keys have been handed down, unbroken since Joseph Smith was given them more than a century and a half ago. I know the Book of Mormon is God’s work: another testament that Jesus is indeed the Christ and that he is the head of this Church. I saw these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.


[1] Jay M. Todd, “President Howard W. Hunter: Fourteenth President of the Church,” Ensign, Jul 1994, 2

[2] Howard W. Hunter, “The Great Symbol of Our Membership,” Ensign, Oct 1994, 2
[3] Howard W. Hunter, “‘Exceeding Great and Precious Promises’,” Ensign, Nov 1994, 7
[4] ”Bountiful Utah Temple Dedicated,” Ensign, Mar. 1995, 74–75
[5] “Faith in Every Footstep: The Epic Pioneer Journey,” Ensign, May 1997, 62

[6] K. Newell Dayley, “Faith in Every Footstep,” Liahona, Feb 1997, 22–23
[7] D & C 6:22-23

[8] John 14:26; note that Jesus refers to the idea of “comfort” two other times in this chapter—once in reference to the Holy Ghost (though some readings of this passage suggest that his reference to “another” comforter is in actuality a personal visitation from the Savior indicating your calling and election made sure) and the second time to his pledge not to leave the apostles “comfortless.” It is not exactly clear why, but it seems that the apostles were unable to have the full influence of the Holy Ghost while they had the Savior with them.
[9] Alma 37:36-37
[10] 2 Nephi 32:3; see also 2 Nephi 9:51 and 31:20 for more references to feasting and the scriptures written by Nephi. It should be remembered that Nephi had seen a vision of the end of the world. He knew, perhaps better than any writer in the Book of Mormon, that this record would be preserved for a people far removed from his own. He had a wonderful perspective on the importance of these scriptures, their coming forth, and what their restoration would mean for the history of mankind. In 2 Nephi 29 he talks at length about the necessity of a second witness and each time having its own scriptures. The incredible writing in that chapter shows his frustration with those who would one day reject the words he had spent his lifetime writing and protecting.
[11] Ezra Taft Benson, “Flooding the Earth with the Book of Mormon,” Ensign, Nov 1988, 4; the embedded reference is from the History of the Church 4:461 as well as the Book of Mormon’s introduction page.

[12] Bruce C. Hafen, “The Atonement: All for All,” Ensign, May 2004, 97. The embedded reference about weakness making us stronger is to Ether 12:27
[13] Howard W. Hunter, “A Temple-Motivated People,” Ensign, Feb 1995, 2
[14] “President Howard W. Hunter: The Lord’s ‘Good and Faithful Servant’,” Ensign, Apr 1995, 8

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Nine Years and Nine Reasons


Tomorrow it will be nine years since Plantboy and I got married. Nine years ago today I was working frantically to get in grades on the last day of school for my first teaching job. I was so green that I was actually still taking work and grading it that day. Besides getting all the grades in, I had to leave a spotless room because I was changing jobs as well. Oh, and it rained all week, ruining any chance for the outdoor reception Plantboy and my mother had spent untold hours on. The temperature also plummeted to the 40's. Very unseasonable for the first week of June. I remember taking the hour ride to the temple where we were getting married with my parents--Plantboy was coming from another direction and we were meeting there--shivering in my summer dress, snapping at anyone who looked at me wrong, feeling so nervous I wanted to throw up and fighting the tears the whole way.

Hm . . . . probably not the way most people describe their emotional state as they head toward marital bliss, right?

I was exhausted and overworked; I had only spent a couple of days with Plantboy in the month previous because he was working in another state; the weather was a huge blow to our plans; I had just said goodbye to a job and a group of students that I absolutely loved; I was about to spend the summer living with my in-laws whom I hardly knew in another state . . . I suppose that there were definite reasons for my near breakdown the morning I got married.

But it wasn't until I walked into the foyer at the Logan temple that I really knew the source of the anxiety, which mounted and mounted until I actually saw him walk in--about two minutes after we did. He gave me a big hug and I immediately relaxed. I said to him, "You came." He looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Of course." I think in some corner of my mind, I really didn't think that marriage would be a part of my life. I wasn't that old, even, but for those who didn't know me in the 18 months leading up to my marriage, I was pretty much an emotional train wreck a lot of the time: maybe there were too many beginnings and endings and heartbreaks in too short of time for me to be entirely stable.

When we were married, the man who sealed us said that part of the symbolism of the altar in marriage ceremony is that we lay down all we have and are for the sake of the union. A true marriage is an act of sacrifice. He said a lot of other great things, that I'm sure were very useful, but it was that part about sacrifice that has stayed with me these nine years. I've learned that sacrifice brings amazing blessings.

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of joy and sensation and yes, exhaustion. The third day of our honeymoon, I told Plantboy that I was going to take a "short" nap. He woke me up five hours later, no doubt wondering if I had entered some kind of alternative universe from which I'd never return. The whole first year of marriage was a little unsettling for me. I had been on my own and independent long enough that adjusting to the new "we" consciousness was a slow learning curve for me.

People talk about the "honeymoon" phase being the earliest part of a relationship and/or marriage. For me, however, I really believe that Plantboy and I finally hit our stride in the summer of 2005. I'm not exactly sure what changed, but since then we have been amazingly happy together. Even when things have been difficult, they are not difficult between us. As a youngish 20-something it was so easy for me to imagine myself being alone, but instead I was blessed to marry a man I'm still so in love with that at times it makes my heart ache for the joy of it. So, here it is,


Nine Reasons I Love Being Married to Plantboy


1. He can never keep the whole truth from me, even if he is trying to tease or surprise me. I can just read him too well.


2. Our favorite dating memory is of cuddling in a sleeping bag under the stars in Logan Canyon. We were way too unmarried to be there (I'm smarter now that it doesn't matter any more), but Plantboy was a perfect gentleman, keeping his hands and yes, his lips to himself while we talked for hours. Though I didn't admit it until several weeks afterward, that was the night I fell in love with him.


3. From the very beginning I always knew where I stood with him. In all the years I had dated (and not dated), I had never known a boy that was crazy about me from the moment he met me. Once I got past the feeling that he was human crazy glue, I knew that I was happy to not play games anymore and just know how somebody felt. Even now, I catch him looking at me sometimes and I know that time has not diminished his sincere and tender attachment.


4. His eyes. Oh yikes. I've never seen eyes as fantastic as his. (Except maybe me oldest son's!) When his optometrist told him that he may not be a great candidate for Lasic, I was secretly happy. I'm afraid that if he starts going around without his glasses on, women will start chatting him up in all kinds of random places whether he is with me or not.


5. Though he is beginning to gray and will probably be totally gray by the time he is 40, I'm just shallow enough to love that he still has a full head of thick hair and probably always will (as did his maternal grandfather). The irony is that every other guy I ever dated or was attracted to was losing his hair: they are probably all bald now.


6. I've never known a man (at least one who was straight and LDS) who loves the natural world the way Plantboy does. I love that our idea of the perfect vacation is to get as far away as possible from other people and look at God's creations. And when we hike or just drive around and I see plants or flowers or shrubs that I love, he can nearly always tell me the common and sometimes scientific name of what I'm looking at.

7. He is a great home teacher.

8. He is willing to listen to the other side of an argument before forming an opinion. We both like to read TNY, National Geographic and listen to NPR: we never run out of real things to talk about.

9. He loves our kids. When he spends time with them, he is NOT babysitting. He is parenting. We nearly always see eye to eye in our approach to raising kids and if one of us is grouchy and short of patience, the other can easily step in. He never acts like he's doing me a great favor when he takes the kids with him to the store or stays home so I can go alone.

I love this man with my whole heart. And, a year from now, I'm sure it will not be hard for me to come up with ten new ones. If you are lactose intolerant, you may want to skip the cheese next year.




Friday, April 04, 2008

Communication

Some weeks back, my favorite RS teacher (at least in this ward) gave a lesson on a topic I don't remember. But I do remember something really insightful that she said. She was very honest when she said that prayer was hard for her. She said that she often forgot to do it, and often felt like answers weren't really forthcoming to her. I was surprised, because I often feel the same way and feel strange when people go on and on about their great prayer experiences, when my own have been more rare.

Then, this teacher went on to say that she thinks just as people have different ways of communicating with one another and with learning, perhaps the Lord approaches us in our own way too. She said that though her talent for prayer was not strong, she believed her talent for meditation was, because her answers would often come after some days of thinking deeply about a particular situation or event. She taught that there were a LOT of ways for the Lord to communicate with us, the important thing was to keep the various channels open--prayer, scriputre study, doing our callings, temple attendance, etc.--and not get discouraged if it seems everyone around us is better at getting an answer. Diligence and patience would eventually show us the ways the Lord can best communicate with us.

For me? I think I've figured out that it is the temple. I'm kind of a stressed-out multi-tasky person in general, and the calmness of the temple for nearly two hours helps me to let enough of that go that I'm perhaps better in tune. I've had some really cool experiences in the temple, some of which are really sacred, and all of which have grown my testimony in amazing ways. I've realized that one of the biggest challenges to living in this part of the Northwest is that our nearest temple is a couple of hours away. I know that for most people in the world, this is not any kind of a distance, but it is a new experience for me. (Even on my mission I attended the temple at least once during my time in each area: at one point the temple was only a five-minute bus-ride away.) A Saturday mid-morning session, if my hubby and I want to go together, costs nearly $30 in gas and finding someone to babysit three kids for a whole day. This is NOT easy.

So, last time Plantboy was in Portland on business, he took part of an evening to go, and today I'm going up without him on the ward bus. I'm excited--this is a thing I've never done before. I feel like I'm REALLY out of Utah now! Maybe it is the sacrifice to get there? Maybe it is the evening away from my kids? I don't know why, but I'm really looking more forward to this evening at the temple than I have in a long, long time. Maybe I'm hoping the Lord will speak to me tonight. I hope I'm prepared to listen.

Happy Conference weekend!