It's Raining, It's Pouring

I stood at the door in conversation one day with a sweet duo of women who were out proselytizing the neighborhood in hopes of gaining new members to their church. Known for their devout service and tiny magazines, these women were quite insistent that we, the women's religion and my own, could never see eye to eye, because one of us was completely right while the other completely wrong. We both pretty much figured that both parties would go their own way without much changing of the others' mind.

Unlike most people I know personally, I enjoy when my door is filled with the missionaries of another religion for a couple of reasons. 1. It's kind of cool knowing that there are still people on this earth who actually believe in a Higher Power enough to risk sharing their view. 2. Usually the missionary types are pretty harmless; meaning they try extra well to be nice. 3. Almost every time, after a bit of conversation, we can agree that, although not on all points of doctrine, there are some points where we agree! Who knew? Fabulous!

The fact is that truth is true no matter who possesses it. It is also a fact that truth endures, and false doctrines have a way of dying out rather quickly (remember Jim Jones? Hitler? KC and the Sunshine Band? oy!)

I like to think of God as the perfect Father, well, because He is indeed that. A perfect Father who wants what is best for us, blessing us for correct choices, and also allowing consequences for our mistakes, toss in the gift of moral agency that we all receive and you get a pretty great Father. Some times blessing are hidden or hard to define in the moment...kind of like receiving and "A" at the end of a long semester... it took a while, but we did get it. Usually the consequences are perceived as a punishment, however "punishing" is really more of a teaching tool or a way for us to change our course before we get our self in way too deep. Remember back to Jr. High when you stayed too late at your friend's house, you figured "Big fat hairy deal." but your mom, who knew that kid better than you ever will, freaked a blue streak for you staying past your allotted time. She kicked your behind from here to Tuesday and probably made darn sure you never did something that stupid again. Maybe it was dating a certain someone, or when you got caught experimenting with a "substance" that wasn't normally offered at your home's lunch table. Either way, a good parent will take the opportunity to change your course. And in the long run that "punishment" was really a teaching moment or even a blessing in disguise. Then there is the wild card of moral agency in which the Father allows us to make our own choices and reap the rewards and/or consequences. He will not interfere, he will bless and teach. He is always both just and merciful.

Back in the day, the world was pretty messed up, kind of like today, but for Biblical times, it must have felt worse. God looked around, realized His kids were outta control, and thought "Now what?" He searched all of creation and managed to find one family, not perfect, but trying hard to do what was right, and figured, "Wow. Only one family? This has got to stop! I need to get these kids to a place where they can't harm themselves any more than they already have." He had a chat with the patriarch of the one family that He could trust to do what was right and said "I'm going to teach you how to build a boat. You're going to have to trust me on this, and follow every thing I tell you, or you too will be put in a divine time out." Noah decided to build a boat according to plans, was mocked, and I am sure even a few of the family members questioned his motives at least once, but they supported him nonetheless and in the long run, they all lived while the rest of civilization took a dirt nap in the deep blue sea.

Now my missionary friends saw this as God's ultimate punishment. They were bad, God killed them. Done.

I prefer to look at it a different way. Perhaps God, their Heavenly Father, had already set a plan in place that would provide them with an escape, even from death, and felt they just needed to STOP! digging their proverbial holes deeper. I mean, even with a Savior, we should try our best and we still need to repent. The less we mess up the less we need to repent for, so do the math. Granted, being drowned, probably not my first choice for halting ill behaviour, but it did the trick and in a way, they did have it coming. In the long run everybody dies and everybody gets to be resurrected so -really- where's the trouble? God doesn't have a problem with death because to Him it really isn't that big of a deal. He knows the trick for getting everyone back to life. I am sure one day (one far off day) we too, will understand how it all works and will still be amazed, but we'll understand why for God, death is (as Thor puts it) "No big hill for a high stepper."

So again here we are. Problems, agency, bugs in the system, kinks in the chain. That's life baby. That's truth. Just because we follow the rules and do what we are supposed to do, does that mean we get off easy? Do we have a trouble free life without trials, questions, doubts or fears? Do we get to laze about hoping and wishing for a harp playing afterlife? Um, no. God needs us to be as learned as possible and like the old saying goes, nothing teaches like experience. Another truth: even Christ Himself was tried and tested; and we know from modern day scripture that He had to endure every temptation we will face, He had to suffer in Gethsemane for every sin we have done...He had it pretty tough for Someone who always followed the rules and did everything He was asked to do.

Are we better than Christ? Should we have it easier than the God who suffered for our mistakes and sins?

One of my favourite scriptures is found in Doctrine and Covenants 121: 33

"How long can rolling waters remain impure? What power shall stay the heavens? As well might man stretch forth his puny arm to stop the Missouri river in its decreed course, or to turn it up stream, as to hinder the Almighty from pouring down knowledge from heaven upon the heads of the Latter-day Saints."

To me this means that we are most certainly going to be tried; and to try and stop that is foolish. Heavenly Father tries us to purify us, to fit us for the kingdom, to help us stand with confidence in His and Jesus Christ's presence. I love, love, love, that the scripture above reminds us that Heaven Father, The Almighty, wants to "pour down knowledge from heaven upon" our heads! Heavenly knowledge can only come from our overcoming doubts, fears, trials, temptations, and all our ills and "unfair" situations. Do we really want to "stay" that power? Or should we go with the flow?

I'm not promoting a messed up life, or saying things like "WAHOO! This week STINKS! AIN'T IT GREAT?" cause frankly, no sane person does that. All I suggest is that, as soon as possible, perhaps we can look back on our heartaches and such and find the purpose for the trial. Find the reason for our lesson, and soon reap the heavenly knowledge that can only come from overcoming what is placed in our path, or perhaps, make us review our path and change our course to get back on the right track.

A world filled with pure rain water to cleanse and prepare it anew for a small family that would repopulate it, sanctifying their lives through a 30 day storm that would go down in history.

A rolling river, clear, and beautifully filled with pure water because of the constant turbulence.

The Son of God, our Saviour, often referred to as Living Water, pierced on the cross, water gushing from His side just prior to His completing His earthly mission for us.

Knowledge pouring from Heaven down upon us.

Three examples of "all these things shall be for thy benefit", the good, the bad, the indifferent, can all be made into a blessing if we choose to allow it.

Truth is true. Knowledge is power. And to get it pouring from heaven, well that's amazing.

Beware and a huge "Thank you!" to a mean person

Yesterday morning as I was going through my mail, I came upon a piece from a dear and trusted friend. I noticed the name and in the subject line was : Prop 8 link invitation. I know my friend feels exactly the same as I do in regard to Prop 8 and so I opened the mail.

My computer screen went black and then my computer froze for about 1/2 hour before I could get it back up and running. All of my files were deleted, the screen was black with a few icons on the desktop that, when opened, opened as if the computer were new: No Files. All of my documents were deleted, all of my photos were deleted, everything was gone. Zip. Gone.

I phoned my friend's spouse to inform them of the glitch, the virus or whatever it was, that was being spread via their personal name. The thing is, this family have ALWAYS been Mac users... for anyone not understanding where I am headed with this...Macs don't send or receive viruses (at least from what I understand, and granted, I understand very little when it comes to technology.) So my friend was admittedly surprised to find out about the situation. My concern and only reason for contacting them was to warn them about the hack (into the mail or whatever) that was able to #1 connect the two of us as pro yes on prop 8 folks, and #2 to be able to grab addresses and send out a virus to anyone else in their mailbox. Ugh.

Luckily for me Thor has a bit of technology under his belt and, frankly, I literally prayed that Heavenly Father would help get my computer back up and at least allow me to grab the remaining photos (about 1/3) that I had not transferred to a zip drive. A few hours and a bit of work and between the Lord and His mercy and Thor's tech savvy and I am back on line.

The weird thing about this is I just talked the day before to my sis Robyn about this sort of thing. She advised me that there are people out there who can mask themselves as someone you trust and by opening the mail you get their fun little virus. "Never open a link via your mail." she advised...duh, I just trusted and I guess we can't just trust anymore. Mean people are out there and they want to mess you up.

So, if the person who sent my computer into crash mode this morning is reading: Thanks. You have given me a few good reasons to celebrate. #1. You have increased my faith in God and His ability to answer (even the silliest of) my personal prayers. #2. The Spirit tried to warn me, but I didn't connect the dots until it was too late. But lesson learned. #3. I have a great sister. #4. I have a really sweet, patient, compassionate, and smart husband. #5. Good friends are always good friends, even if they are Mac users and I am a lowly PC user. and #6. You made me think that my position on Prop 8 must be really important. Important enough to keep fighting for, otherwise why would it bug you so much that I, a very small person on the planet, have taken a stand.

So thanks creepy mean person, You have proven once again, #7 that everything, good and bad are for my benefit. You're awesome.

Joshua Tree Mosaic

Taken on a ride through Joshua Tree National Park last Saturday. Incredible. I suggest it to anyone who can get there within the next week or two. This is a feast for your eyes, a miracle of sorts, and a testament to the Creator. Truly amazing.

Please! Do your self a favour and click on the mosaic to see these gorgeous flowers a little bit larger.

Lessons in Art

"Mother, child, and Daddy...unfinished work"

A while back I posted the water colour painting I was working on. I have never had any 'formal' art training outside of high school, so when it comes to this medium I am well challenged. Because the lack of experience, I am now working on painting number 3. Yes 3.
"Detail of child"

If I make a mistake with acrylics or oils, I can scrape most of the paint off, wait for it to dry and begin again right over the mistake. The mistake is still there, just well hidden and only I know it's there. Not so with water colours. Or maybe, but I have no clue as how to fix a blooper, so I begin again. Each painting has taught me something new and I continue to learn with each stroke. Not too much here, lighter hand there, layer, layer, layer.
"Detail of scales on the mermaid child"

Yesterday I made a rather "duh" mistake. In my enthusiasm for something that I thought was going well, I rushed it. I forgot about the layers; and this morning when I woke up, again, it hit me. "How am I going to get around fixing this without having to redraw, repaint yet another painting?" I did a little research and headed out to the art supplier here in The Boonies, and spent some time pondering in the aisle. I came home and experimented with the former painting and tried to teach myself a new technique. It worked well enough to keep me from having to start from scratch.
"Detail of illuminated metallic scales on mermaid child. oops, blurry."

So here I am this evening assessing the day's work. My back and shoulders are sore from standing too long in one place and focusing without taking good breaks. What I have I learned?

It's called water colour for a reason, water is very important. Paper is also important. Don't go cheap. Get the best you can, pay the higher price. The better the paper the less it will bubble and curl, the better it accepts your paint.

The water colour paper wants to be prepared before you start in on it. Give it a little water before the paint and it will reward you. Keep adding water as you paint, it keeps the lines from dragging and smudging.

Think ahead and visualize what objects are in the foreground and which will be in the back. In other words, make a plan.

Use a 'masking agent' if you need to block washes from specific spaces on the paper.

No matter how well I try to hide my mistakes, I'll know they're there.

It's like life I guess. Christ was often referred to as Living Water, an Artist, and we, His canvas. We need to accept the Water and we need to be the best we can, to live up to our cost. As in the painting, we need to constantly keep Water in our painting, Christ in our life. We need to have a plan, to keep focused on those things which are just background, and those things which need our attention most.

God has given me commandments to use as a protection for those parts of my canvas I need to keep clean. It's like the masking agent for my life.

Most importantly we have been given the opportunity to repair mistakes. Yesterday I forgot the plan, I rushed into a part of my painting that should have waited. It could have ruined the entire painting, but I was able to use tools, and with patience and work, paint over the mistake. The painting is fine, just as it would have been had I not rushed. It's like repentance. Christ's atonement has given me a way to repair my personal canvas and make it as new. The thing is, even though I make mistakes, I know they are there, but He takes them completely away. I am clean again.

blessings journal

In his talk, O Remember, Remember President Eyring encouraged us to write down the blessings in our lives on a daily basis. An excerpt from that talk:

"When our children were very small, I started to write down a few things about what happened every day. Let me tell you how that got started. I came home late from a Church assignment. It was after dark. My father-in-law, who lived near us, surprised me as I walked toward the front door of my house. He was carrying a load of pipes over his shoulder, walking very fast and dressed in his work clothes. I knew that he had been building a system to pump water from a stream below us up to our property.

He smiled, spoke softly, and then rushed past me into the darkness to go on with his work. I took a few steps toward the house, thinking of what he was doing for us, and just as I got to the door, I heard in my mind—not in my own voice—these words: “I’m not giving you these experiences for yourself. Write them down.”

I went inside. I didn’t go to bed. Although I was tired, I took out some paper and began to write. And as I did, I understood the message I had heard in my mind. I was supposed to record for my children to read, someday in the future, how I had seen the hand of God blessing our family. Grandpa didn’t have to do what he was doing for us. He could have had someone else do it or not have done it at all. But he was serving us, his family, in the way covenant disciples of Jesus Christ always do. I knew that was true. And so I wrote it down, so that my children could have the memory someday when they would need it.

I wrote down a few lines every day for years. I never missed a day no matter how tired I was or how early I would have to start the next day. Before I would write, I would ponder this question: “Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us or our children or our family today?” As I kept at it, something began to happen. As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us that I had not recognized in the busy moments of the day. As that happened, and it happened often, I realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show me what He had done.

More than gratitude began to grow in my heart. Testimony grew. I became ever more certain that our Heavenly Father hears and answers prayers. I felt more gratitude for the softening and refining that come because of the Atonement of the Savior Jesus Christ. And I grew more confident that the Holy Ghost can bring all things to our remembrance—even things we did not notice or pay attention to when they happened.

The years have gone by. My boys are grown men. And now and then one of them will surprise me by saying, “Dad, I was reading in my copy of the journal about when . . . ” and then he will tell me about how reading of what happened long ago helped him notice something God had done in his day.

My point is to urge you to find ways to recognize and remember God’s kindness. It will build our testimonies. You may not keep a journal. You may not share whatever record you keep with those you love and serve. But you and they will be blessed as you remember what the Lord has done. You remember that song we sometimes sing: “Count your many blessings; name them one by one, And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.”

By clicking on the link you can take the time to read the entire talk, which is well worth the extra few minutes. President Eyring is an amazing man with a keen mind and great insights. He's one of my favorites!

I am going to take his advice. I already have a journal picked out and I am going to try and make this a daily habit. How about you? Why not go out, find a great new journal that will inspire you to write down those good, positive things in your life? Wouldn't it be wonderful, to read back on this next year and see just how many good things came your way each day? It would be such a great way to live, seeing the good. Many of the blogs out there participate in daily gratitudes, that's awesome!

So we have a few days to go out and get ourselves ready. Or if you already have a blank journal lying around, how about tonight? Surely good things happened over the Christmas Holiday that insured many blessings on your family. Why not write them down?

Chris

From before the beginning of the world we knew the plan. We would wait for our turn on Earth, grab a body, learn as much as we could, experience life, and be tested...again, and again, and again.

For Chris, well, he followed the plan to almost perfection. He was one of the valiant, saved for the latter days, to be tried and tested and learn and grow. He had this warm shy smile that got him into both your heart and into "fun". Some of his tests were more difficult than others but he always found a way to pass. Some who didn't know him well enough may have thought he was full of spit and vinegar or perhaps walked to close to the edge. To those of us who know him, we "get" him. We know that he felt if you weren't living on the edge you were probably taking up too much room. He explored everything good and exciting. He enjoyed company. He made a friend of pretty much everyone.

Chris was at our house from a very early age. His giggle was more often heard than words, and his help offered more than a complaint. He seriously would have given you anything you required of him and was always happy to share. Not a normal thing for a small kid or even a teen aged boy, and magnified as a young adult. He had no rules for friendship, other than everyone deserves a friend. Even a stranger. Sometimes that scared those of us who had a bit more wisdom, but somehow he always came out ahead of the game because of his generosity.

He was constantly encouraging our son to this or that and they had so many adventures. After talking with #4, I think those adventures have now become sacred to him. He thinks of Chris as his brother, he felt it when he passed away, before any one could explain to him, #4 "just knew".
I went to to personally tell #4. I went to his church and went in search of him, thinking I would pull him out of the main worship service. As I walked down the main hall I saw #4 standing there, looking confused. When he saw me, he began to tear. I started to ask him. "Did some.." And he stopped me short. "Mom. Your here to tell me Chris died, right?" "Yes. Who told you?" "No one. I just felt it. I felt it all morning. Seeing you just confirmed it." And he began to cry.

Chris has so much pain recently. So much change in his life that he could not control. He was struggling with making new life plans, finding his way on an altered course. Trying to be optimistic about remaking his life to fit his new body. He had been given so many tests.

They say we are here to take tests. Chris passed. He passed all of his tests well and now he has graduated with honours. He is on to greater, higher education. And as in most graduations, there are tears of both sadness and joy. Hope for the future and what will be accomplished and fondness in the memories of the days we all shared while learning together.

I know Chris is a smart young man. I know he knows what his future holds and I am positive he is making new friends, renewing old relationships and shyly giggling while being a friend to everyone he meets.

one lesson, 38 years ago made a difference

I was baptized when I was about 8 1/2. Many folks hear this and think that makes me a "dyed in the wool" LDS person. I still think of myself as extremely blessed to have been introduced to the Gospel, to have had a family that accepted it and yes, be baptized while still only 8 years old. I can personally see how this young age baptism blessed my life.

We were converts, and as such -enthusiastic. After a year or so, I had Brother Hitzka as my Sunday School Teacher. He was a regular guy type of guy as I remember, nothing much to write home about. However, one Sunday something prompted him to be a tad more dramatic in his lesson presentation. We were all seated and he asked us to count off, one, two, one, two, one, two. I was a two.

"All of you 'two's please stand up. Go over to the door. Wave to everyone and say good bye." So we all complied. I remember standing there thinking I was going to be given a special assignment, would go off to the kitchen for a glass of water or perhaps out to the grass for something else, who knew? I was excited to be one of the "chosen"! "O.k.!" he said, "You can leave now, bye!" We just stood there not knowing where to go. "Um, BYE now! Go!" and with a swoosh of his hand we understood we were to GO, but where was still a mystery. Irritated, Brother Hitzka stood up, opened the door and began to physically lead each of us 'two's out the door. As he started to close the door, one boy asked, "Where do you want us to go?" "I don't care. I just know you will leave eventually so I thought why wait? Just go now and get on with your lives!" We all stared at Brother Hitzka.

For me, I had some abandonment issues already, so to have my Sunday School Teacher tell me to go began to tear at something familiar inside of me. I was immediately scared to death that I would never be back. I would never go to his Sunday School class again and maybe never see him again either. I felt a loss of love, his love, a love that I didn't think about until that moment in time; but something told me Brother Hitzka did love me. But did he decide not to now? I didn't quite know what to do with this information. The moment seemed very long, but eventually Brother Hitzka asked us all to come back into class.

"I read a scary fact this morning. By the time you kids grow up to be 21, half of you will have left the church. " Oh, now I get it, he's making a point. But inside I didn't feel much better. In fact it made me physically sick and I wanted to throw up. Brother Hitzka explained how when grown ups grow up they aren't much smarter than we were right then. He wanted us to be smart. He wanted us to know that things get hard in life and that sometimes, adults see the only solution to problems is to leave the church and their activity in it. He stressed that the one thing that was smart would be to hang onto our activity NO MATTER WHAT WE FACED AS AN ADULT! I don't remember too much from the lesson than that and the feelings I still have when I remember it all.

Brother Hitzka was right. In my class were 12 kids. By the time we were 21 exactly half of us had left the church for various reasons. "C" left because his family was a complete mess and he just couldn't figure out how to please them, himself, much less God. "G" left due to an early and sad temple marriage that fell apart. "K" left because her parents "shoved the church down [her] throat." Truth be told her parents were nuts, but it was an excuse for her to experiment with the late 70's and not feel guilty. "C" left because she had been abused by her father and when the church became involved the justice was not justice but a "good talking too, but not much else." Bitter. "S" left out of boredom. "E" left out of, again, familial shame brought on by a parent's public sin.

Did the other 6 of us have great lives? No. One of us married a man with children, one of whom decided to be gay. Another lost a spouse. Others had trials with word of wisdom issues, sex, and financial ruin. The truth is EVERYONE had an excuse to leave. EVERYONE had a reason to stay. For me, I also had trials. LOTS of trials. (Haven't we all?) I can honestly say that I could hear Brother Hitzka telling me to leave during each one. The point is this: After that one lesson I was so sick at the thought of leaving my Heavenly Father (someone it took me a lot of work to find) that I couldn't leave. The thinking of inactivity made my stomach ache - hard. I promised myself one thing. "If I ever felt like just staying home, or being mad and wanted to quit, that I would not allow myself to do that. I would work it out however I could, but I would ALWAYS go to church. EVERY Sunday. NO EXCEPTIONS."

That one promise, made by a 9 year old to her future self, has been the saving grace that helped me through thoughts of "This is enough! No more!". Through the desires to go out on the boat, take the day trip, just skip it this once. I realized even as a child that activity is more than sitting through "Dry Council Sunday" and the travelogue "testimonies", the hypocrites that demand this or that and do otherwise themselves. It's more important for me to sit through all the "junk" because that is where I am supposed to be. I have never regretted going to church, even when the lessons have been ridiculous and the drama of the women is worse than anything you see on t.v. Being there is important.

I still feel that love I felt from Brother Hitzka. I feel it through other people now. I know that feeling is directed from Heavenly Father. As a grown up I still have that scary feeling of abandonment. When I think that I would be the one doing the abandoning, it makes me sick. This time I choose to leave. This time I am the one who says, "I don't need you, you are not worth it! I am finding something better, something easier than you." The only difference is that I am saying it to my Heavenly Father. That thought and those feelings are what keep me in the bench, in the dull lesson, in the room when I want otherwise. I want the love and the feeling of going home to my Father someday more. I stay active.

Thanks Brother Hitzka.