I was out doing some ecclesiastical visits yesterday afternoon when I received four successive calls on my cell phone. After quickly wrapping up the current visit, I called my wife and she informed me that my mother had had a fall at the church just down the street from our house, and was being prepared for transport to the emergency room. I arrived at the church to the sight of a fire truck, an ambulance, and a half dozen EMTs, paramedics and other emergency personnel. A man that I didn't know expressed that he was glad I had made it and that my mom was still inside. I entered the church in time to see four men lifting my mom onto a stretcher as she cried out in pain.
My mom was with my sister and her kids in the hallway at church and were nearly the last ones out the door for the day. She had a minor stumble in the hallway and caught herself with her left leg when she felt something crack across her hip, and then fell to the floor. Her femur had broken clean in half, near the hip (they call this a broken hip).
My brother and I followed her to the emergency room where treatment began. A host of doctors and nurses examined her, administering pain medication, taking x-rays, a CAT scan, and other necessary procedures. She was in severe pain, but was surrounded by her children and competent medical personnel.
As she told her story of her hip fracture to the attending caregivers several times, she also explained why she wore a supportive boot on her right foot--that was due to a spontaneous bone fracture that occurred a couple of months ago. One of the technicians exclaimed, "Wow, you've had a rough year so far," to which my mom replied, "Yes, especially with my husband dying in January."
So yes, it had been a very difficult year. One might wonder why all these trials were compounded in six short months: the physically and emotionally exhausting process of helping her husband pass away from cancer and the resulting whirlwind of funerals, forms and phone calls that followed; a few months afterwards a foot fracture that immobilized her for six weeks; and only three days since she had begun driving again, now she had a broken hip that would require surgery and probably another six weeks in a rehab center.
We are all discouraged for her. Planned vacations will have to be rescheduled. Baby births and blessings may be missed. Serving and helping her children, which is where she derives the most satisfaction in life, will be postponed. Why these trials?
I did not sleep well last night. Each time I awoke I thought of Mom and her pain, wondering how she was faring, and anxiously anticipating the surgery this morning. It was around 3:00 AM this morning though, that I had a thought that absolutely terrified me: what would have happened if she had fallen at home?
My mother is still young and independent, and her children have not been in the mindset of checking in with her regularly in case of such an event. In short, things could very easily have been much worse. It is possible that she may have gone for days without being discovered, had she fallen at the wrong time, in a place where she could not move and could not contact the outside world.
This change in perspective caused me to rethink all the things that had happened to her.
Her spontaneous foot fracture was not caused by a stumble or any hard impact; it was a ticking time-bomb that could have gone off at any time. And thankfully, it did not occur until after she was done being a full-time caregiver for my dad in his last days battling cancer. Thankfully, she could get around and attend to his many needs without the disruption of being immobile. The funeral was over and most of the paperwork was sorted out before she was forced to take it easy and recover herself.
Likewise, this broken hip was another time-bomb. There was no terrible fall; the hip was broken before she ever hit the ground. In reality, it was weak and could have broken at any time. We are so blessed that my mom and dad were not separated during the last months or weeks of his life, with him in a cancer facility and her in a rehab facility. Instead, he died at home with her by his side. We are blessed that her hip broke in a public place where help was immediately available, rather than at home where it may have taken hours or days to get help. And we are probably blessed that her foot was doing so much better so that she didn't have to deal with rehabilitation of both breaks at once.
Instead of so many possible bad combinations of events, her trials mostly came one at a time. Yes, they came in quick succession, but for the most part, they did not overlap. One could even choose to view this as a miraculous, orchestrated series of events from an all-wise Father who was careful not to pile on too much at once, while still allowing the pains and trials of mortality that are required to foster our development and growth.
As she lay in the Emergency Room with powerful medication eventually giving her relief from pain, I realized what a blessing it is to live in a time when such medicines were well understood and readily available. It is a blessing that a skilled surgeon can repair the bone and that with only a month or two of rehab, she can be walking again. It is a blessing that there are wonderful emergency response personnel and kindly good Samaritans who will help someone in need. It is a blessing that she lives so close to her children, so that we can offer support. It is a blessing that her sons hold the priesthood and could unite with her faith and the faith of her daughters to bestow upon her a blessing of comfort and healing through that divine power.
It just took a little perspective shift for me to see that even during severe trials, miracles and blessings are still occurring.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Monday, May 20, 2013
The Windows of Heaven
Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it. (Malachi 3:10)
The prophet Malachi promised that through payment of tithes, "the windows of heaven" would be opened.
I have heard many inspiring stories of the literal fulfillment of this promise. It usually goes something like this: a family is short on money and has a choice to pay tithing or pay bills or buy groceries or some other essential need. They decide to pay tithing, trusting that the Lord will take care of them if they keep their commitment to Him first. They are rewarded with a miraculous blessing and somehow make ends meet through a new job, a promotion at work, a kind neighbor, the actions of a stranger, or some other means. They are always taken care of.
I accept these experiences at face value. I believe the Lord does take care of those who pay tithing. I have always tried to be a faithful tithe payer and have always felt very blessed by Him. In fact, I have always been so blessed that I've never felt like I've truly been tested by the law of tithing; I've never had to "prove" the Lord. I've never had a miraculous story about tithing to call my own.
Until now.
It wasn't me directly. It was my seven-year-old son, Andrew. A neighbor had given him a rare chance to earn some cash by picking dandelions, hoping to avoid them going to seed. Andrew earned one penny for each flower picked. I was so impressed with his industry and the great idea of battling the weeds that I gave him the same offer. After a few hours of work, Andrew had amassed the princely sum of about four dollars.
As I sat down with our change box to pay him, I talked to him about tithing. I helped him calculate ten percent of his earnings. We began filling out the donation slip to give to our bishop. Then I brought up the subject of offerings for the poor, and asked Andrew if he would like to give some additional money to help those who had less. He wanted to reallocate some of his tithing to be offerings. I explained that it didn't work that way; that the offerings were in addition to the tithing. Something changed in Andrew. His fist tightened around his coins. His brow furrowed and he grew more and more resistant to the idea. Soon he wasn't so sure he wanted to pay tithing at all. All my persuasion, lecturing, and other advanced parenting techniques only seemed to cause his fingers to grasp more tightly. The lucre was taking hold of him.
Finally, in exasperation, I put down the tithing slip and walked away, telling Andrew that if he didn't want to keep the commandment of tithing, I wasn't going to make him. It was his choice.
A short while later, Andrew came to my room with his money and told me he was ready to pay tithing. Relieved that he had made the right choice, I again sat down with him and filled out the slip: forty cents in change went into the envelope. He happily watched while I licked the seal and set it aside. Then Andrew left the room.
Now for the miracle: a few minutes later, Andrew suddenly reappeared. He had a serious, intense look in his seven-year-old eyes that I had seldom before seen. He came up to me, and gave me a dollar.
"What's this?" I asked.
"It's for the poor people," he replied.
I looked into his innocent eyes. They were red and brimming with tears. "That is very nice, Andrew. But you don't have to give that much," I reasoned with him. After all, I don't think I had ever donated an extra 25% of my gross income to the poor, on top of the 10% tithing. His gift, like the widow's mite, was truly generous.
"I want to, Dad," he said resolutely. "I want to help the people that don't have enough to eat. I want to give them my money." He spoke with as much passion as a seven-year-old boy can feel.
And I suddenly understood. I understood that the windows of heaven are not just open to pour out financial blessings upon those who pay the tithe. In fact, temporal blessings are wonderful, but they pale in comparison to the divinity that pours into the souls of those who put God and the needs of their fellow men above their own desires. My son, in paying his tithes and offerings, was making an invaluable investment in his character; he was opening up a window of heaven that shone directly into his pure, little-boy heart.
Truly, the Lord does fulfill his promises.
The prophet Malachi promised that through payment of tithes, "the windows of heaven" would be opened.
I have heard many inspiring stories of the literal fulfillment of this promise. It usually goes something like this: a family is short on money and has a choice to pay tithing or pay bills or buy groceries or some other essential need. They decide to pay tithing, trusting that the Lord will take care of them if they keep their commitment to Him first. They are rewarded with a miraculous blessing and somehow make ends meet through a new job, a promotion at work, a kind neighbor, the actions of a stranger, or some other means. They are always taken care of.
I accept these experiences at face value. I believe the Lord does take care of those who pay tithing. I have always tried to be a faithful tithe payer and have always felt very blessed by Him. In fact, I have always been so blessed that I've never felt like I've truly been tested by the law of tithing; I've never had to "prove" the Lord. I've never had a miraculous story about tithing to call my own.
Until now.
It wasn't me directly. It was my seven-year-old son, Andrew. A neighbor had given him a rare chance to earn some cash by picking dandelions, hoping to avoid them going to seed. Andrew earned one penny for each flower picked. I was so impressed with his industry and the great idea of battling the weeds that I gave him the same offer. After a few hours of work, Andrew had amassed the princely sum of about four dollars.
As I sat down with our change box to pay him, I talked to him about tithing. I helped him calculate ten percent of his earnings. We began filling out the donation slip to give to our bishop. Then I brought up the subject of offerings for the poor, and asked Andrew if he would like to give some additional money to help those who had less. He wanted to reallocate some of his tithing to be offerings. I explained that it didn't work that way; that the offerings were in addition to the tithing. Something changed in Andrew. His fist tightened around his coins. His brow furrowed and he grew more and more resistant to the idea. Soon he wasn't so sure he wanted to pay tithing at all. All my persuasion, lecturing, and other advanced parenting techniques only seemed to cause his fingers to grasp more tightly. The lucre was taking hold of him.
Finally, in exasperation, I put down the tithing slip and walked away, telling Andrew that if he didn't want to keep the commandment of tithing, I wasn't going to make him. It was his choice.
A short while later, Andrew came to my room with his money and told me he was ready to pay tithing. Relieved that he had made the right choice, I again sat down with him and filled out the slip: forty cents in change went into the envelope. He happily watched while I licked the seal and set it aside. Then Andrew left the room.
Now for the miracle: a few minutes later, Andrew suddenly reappeared. He had a serious, intense look in his seven-year-old eyes that I had seldom before seen. He came up to me, and gave me a dollar.
"What's this?" I asked.
"It's for the poor people," he replied.
I looked into his innocent eyes. They were red and brimming with tears. "That is very nice, Andrew. But you don't have to give that much," I reasoned with him. After all, I don't think I had ever donated an extra 25% of my gross income to the poor, on top of the 10% tithing. His gift, like the widow's mite, was truly generous.
"I want to, Dad," he said resolutely. "I want to help the people that don't have enough to eat. I want to give them my money." He spoke with as much passion as a seven-year-old boy can feel.
And I suddenly understood. I understood that the windows of heaven are not just open to pour out financial blessings upon those who pay the tithe. In fact, temporal blessings are wonderful, but they pale in comparison to the divinity that pours into the souls of those who put God and the needs of their fellow men above their own desires. My son, in paying his tithes and offerings, was making an invaluable investment in his character; he was opening up a window of heaven that shone directly into his pure, little-boy heart.
Truly, the Lord does fulfill his promises.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
It feels so good
"I know of no experience more sweet or feeling more precious than to heed a prompting only to discover that the Lord has answered another person’s prayer through you." (Thomas S. Monson)
I wish I could say that what President Monson describes above is a regular occurrence in my life. However, for me these types of experiences are few and far between--in fact, perhaps there's only one instance that I can say fits this description exactly. But I can now testify that his statement is true.
Tonight I attended an event that was so wonderful that it made me feel like I had to get out of my non-blogging slump and write about it: I went over to Nathaniel's home to celebrate his mission call. Nathaniel is my neighbor, my 3rd cousin once removed, and my friend. He is a brave young man who believes deeply in the things that he values. He is a man who knows what he wants and knows where he is going in life. He is a man who has, and is, and will make a difference in many others' lives.
But not too long ago, Nathaniel was a little bit lost--wondering where he was going and how to channel his tremendous energy and potential and how to best serve his fellow men. Never short on good will or desire to help others, he only lacked direction.
I had come to know and care about Nathaniel's family over the last few years, and in my capacity as a lay leader in our Latter-day Saint congregation with responsibility for him, I had found excuses to enjoy occasional visits with Nathaniel. I knew he was a talented young man and I admired his service to our country in the military. I could tell that he was looking for direction in his life, and I had prayed for him to find it from time to time. But as is often the case with young adults, he was always on the move and with our sporadic visits I didn't anticipate ever having much influence on him.
Then, one night as I was praying for Nathaniel to receive whatever help he needed, an unusually distinct thought came into my mind: Go and talk to him about serving a mission.
The impression came so strongly, and stuck with me so consistently over the following days as I continued to pray for him, that I could not rest--I knew I had to act on it. I didn't know exactly how to approach him, or how he would react, but I knew that I had to go. So I went.
I didn't go empty-handed--I had my scriptures and a plate of cookies, figuring that no one ever resents a visit when cookies are involved. I showed up at Nathaniel's home rather late at night, and standing there on the porch in the dark, wondered what I would say to him. He was home, which was somewhat unusual in and of itself, but he seemed--what's the word--not really happy, not suspicious--maybe intrigued--that I was standing there. He let me in.
I didn't know what to say, so I handed him the cookies and asked if we could sit down for a few minutes. He invited me into the kitchen, where we sat at the table. I wasn't sure how to start, so I awkwardly sort of blurted out, "Nate, I'll just get right to the point. I'm here because I was praying about you and had a really strong feeling that I need to come talk to you about serving a mission."
I knew full well that he had military commitments and didn't know whether he had ever considered serving a mission. I didn't have any idea how he would react, and half expected him to resist--at best, I hoped he would listen long enough for me to try to persuade him regarding the benefits of serving a mission and how it would change his life, and maybe he'd think about it and perhaps act on it, someday.
To my surprise, he had kind of an astonished look on his face, like he had a swarm of thoughts buzzing in his head, and then slowly told me that he had been thinking about serving a mission for several weeks, and really just needed to know how to get started.
This totally took me aback, and sent my head swimming. But one thought bubbled to the top, which was simply this: the Lord loves Nathaniel and cares deeply about his welfare. I happened to be a person who could reach out to him at that time and give him the small nudge he needed in the right direction. He would take care of the rest.
I realized that for the first time in a long time, the Lord had sent me on an errand and I had actually responded to the call. Here was a great young man, full of potential, who simply needed the smallest nudge to get out the door. We talked for a good while, with Nate patiently listening to each thought or scripture I shared, and I promised to help however I could. Nate asked for a priesthood blessing, a rite in our church wherein we can receive healing, comfort, or counsel through the laying on of hands and the power of the priesthood. I went home and told our bishop about my conversation with Nate, and we returned that night together, to give him a blessing.
I went home that night on a high that I have seldom experienced since the days of my full time missionary service in Dallas, Texas. The scriptural promise I came to love as a missionary was renewed for me that night, vividly illustrated by wonderful events that I felt so grateful to have played just a small part in:
10 Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God;
15 And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!
(D&C 18:10,15)
Tonight, after months of preparation, Nathaniel received his mission call from a prophet of God. He will be going to Anchorage, Alaska for two years, and leaving soon.
How loved must be the people of Anchorage to be receiving the ministration of a servant so loved of the Lord! I wish you the very best, Elder.
I'll be praying for you.
Nathaniel's heart-felt account of his decision to serve a mission is posted on Facebook.
I wish I could say that what President Monson describes above is a regular occurrence in my life. However, for me these types of experiences are few and far between--in fact, perhaps there's only one instance that I can say fits this description exactly. But I can now testify that his statement is true.
Tonight I attended an event that was so wonderful that it made me feel like I had to get out of my non-blogging slump and write about it: I went over to Nathaniel's home to celebrate his mission call. Nathaniel is my neighbor, my 3rd cousin once removed, and my friend. He is a brave young man who believes deeply in the things that he values. He is a man who knows what he wants and knows where he is going in life. He is a man who has, and is, and will make a difference in many others' lives.
But not too long ago, Nathaniel was a little bit lost--wondering where he was going and how to channel his tremendous energy and potential and how to best serve his fellow men. Never short on good will or desire to help others, he only lacked direction.
I had come to know and care about Nathaniel's family over the last few years, and in my capacity as a lay leader in our Latter-day Saint congregation with responsibility for him, I had found excuses to enjoy occasional visits with Nathaniel. I knew he was a talented young man and I admired his service to our country in the military. I could tell that he was looking for direction in his life, and I had prayed for him to find it from time to time. But as is often the case with young adults, he was always on the move and with our sporadic visits I didn't anticipate ever having much influence on him.
Then, one night as I was praying for Nathaniel to receive whatever help he needed, an unusually distinct thought came into my mind: Go and talk to him about serving a mission.
The impression came so strongly, and stuck with me so consistently over the following days as I continued to pray for him, that I could not rest--I knew I had to act on it. I didn't know exactly how to approach him, or how he would react, but I knew that I had to go. So I went.
I didn't go empty-handed--I had my scriptures and a plate of cookies, figuring that no one ever resents a visit when cookies are involved. I showed up at Nathaniel's home rather late at night, and standing there on the porch in the dark, wondered what I would say to him. He was home, which was somewhat unusual in and of itself, but he seemed--what's the word--not really happy, not suspicious--maybe intrigued--that I was standing there. He let me in.
I didn't know what to say, so I handed him the cookies and asked if we could sit down for a few minutes. He invited me into the kitchen, where we sat at the table. I wasn't sure how to start, so I awkwardly sort of blurted out, "Nate, I'll just get right to the point. I'm here because I was praying about you and had a really strong feeling that I need to come talk to you about serving a mission."
I knew full well that he had military commitments and didn't know whether he had ever considered serving a mission. I didn't have any idea how he would react, and half expected him to resist--at best, I hoped he would listen long enough for me to try to persuade him regarding the benefits of serving a mission and how it would change his life, and maybe he'd think about it and perhaps act on it, someday.
To my surprise, he had kind of an astonished look on his face, like he had a swarm of thoughts buzzing in his head, and then slowly told me that he had been thinking about serving a mission for several weeks, and really just needed to know how to get started.
This totally took me aback, and sent my head swimming. But one thought bubbled to the top, which was simply this: the Lord loves Nathaniel and cares deeply about his welfare. I happened to be a person who could reach out to him at that time and give him the small nudge he needed in the right direction. He would take care of the rest.
I realized that for the first time in a long time, the Lord had sent me on an errand and I had actually responded to the call. Here was a great young man, full of potential, who simply needed the smallest nudge to get out the door. We talked for a good while, with Nate patiently listening to each thought or scripture I shared, and I promised to help however I could. Nate asked for a priesthood blessing, a rite in our church wherein we can receive healing, comfort, or counsel through the laying on of hands and the power of the priesthood. I went home and told our bishop about my conversation with Nate, and we returned that night together, to give him a blessing.
I went home that night on a high that I have seldom experienced since the days of my full time missionary service in Dallas, Texas. The scriptural promise I came to love as a missionary was renewed for me that night, vividly illustrated by wonderful events that I felt so grateful to have played just a small part in:
10 Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God;
15 And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!
(D&C 18:10,15)
Tonight, after months of preparation, Nathaniel received his mission call from a prophet of God. He will be going to Anchorage, Alaska for two years, and leaving soon.
How loved must be the people of Anchorage to be receiving the ministration of a servant so loved of the Lord! I wish you the very best, Elder.
I'll be praying for you.
Nathaniel's heart-felt account of his decision to serve a mission is posted on Facebook.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
My Mormon.org Profile
I finally wrote it down and got it up: my Mormon.org member profile. It's a brief statement of why I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (the "Mormons."). Check it out!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Talk about Proclaiming the Gospel
This is a talk I have prepared to give in Sacrament Meeting this Sunday. Since it is public anyway, I decided to post it here.
* * *
Talk on the subject of “Proclaiming the Gospel”
30 August, 2009
When this world was first formed, our Heavenly Father created two beloved children: a son first, followed by a daughter. God taught Adam and Eve the gospel and joined them together in celestial marriage through His priesthood power. The earth began with a perfect pattern of faithful, obedient children who were taught and believed God’s plan of salvation, and who where joined together as an eternal family.
After their temptation, fall and necessary separation from God, Adam and Eve began their journey into the unknown world, where they had to rely on faith, rather than sight. But our loving Heavenly Father didn’t leave them alone; He sent angels to minister to them and teach them.
Adam and Eve were baptized and received the gift of the Holy Ghost to guide them throughout their long separation from God here in mortality. And God provided a Savior, our Lord Jesus Christ, to rescue them from sin and death and to remove every other obstacle that they would encounter, so that this temporary separation from God, which was a necessary part of their progression, might someday come to an end. God’s design from the beginning was to reclaim all of His children who would choose to return. None were to be left out of His plan.
In Moses chapter 5 we read:
9 And in that day the Holy Ghost fell upon Adam, which beareth record of the Father and the Son, saying: I am the Only Begotten of the Father from the beginning, henceforth and forever, that as thou hast fallen thou mayest be redeemed, and all mankind, even as many as will.
10 And in that day Adam blessed God and was filled, and began to prophesy concerning all the families of the earth, saying: Blessed be the name of God, for because of my transgression my eyes are opened, and in this life I shall have joy, and again in the flesh I shall see God.
11 And Eve, his wife, heard all these things and was glad, saying: Were it not for our transgression we never should have had seed, and never should have known good and evil, and the joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient.
12 And Adam and Eve blessed the name of God, and they made all things known unto their sons and their daughters.
This began the pattern of proclaiming the gospel, which has been a central theme of God’s dealings with His children throughout the history of the world. The first family home evenings consisted of Adam and Eve and their posterity, gathered and discussing the plan they were all engaged in. These were also the first general conferences, because the church in its entirety was simply a family. When they first gathered their family for prayer, the entire population of the earth was united together in faith. Their journals and family histories became the first scriptures. There was nothing to prevent a perpetual state of peace and righteousness that included every member of the human family, except their own disobedience.
We all know that Satan worked very hard and sadly, had some success among Adam and Eve’s children. Thus the work of proclaiming the gospel became a little bit harder. There was resistance. But the grand goal of God’s plan of happiness, to provide the gifts of immortality and eternal life to every one of God’s children who ever has, and ever will live on this earth, remained the same. This goal is the same today, in our day, when only a small fraction of our brothers and sisters know the saving truths of the fullness of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Adam and Eve were charged with a mission to start the world out right, bringing into existence a family who knew and understood God’s plan. Because of this knowledge, every child of God was able to choose happiness or misery for himself. Our mission today, in the last days of the earth, is similar: we are to do all we can to proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ to our brothers and sisters living today, providing them with opportunities to hear and accept the truth so that they can also be empowered to choose happiness or misery.
We have been given the gospel in its fullness. This brings both incredible blessings and tremendous responsibilities, including sharing the gospel with others. Only when every member of God’s great human family has been given this opportunity, will His all-encompassing plan be complete. And only when we have done all we can to assist in this great work will we be able to rest at peace, knowing we have done all we could to provide salvation for our family.
To get to that state of peace, it will not be guilt, or even duty, that motivates us to share the gospel. Instead, our motivation and strength will come from an all-consuming love that burns in our hearts because we are family. We will stop seeing the world at large, and even our neighbors close to home, in an “us and them” sort of way. Instead, we will recognize that the same Savior who gave His blood and life to save us from our sins also suffered for every other member of our family here on earth. Just as Adam and Eve wanted all of their posterity to be saved, so will we not be satisfied until every child of God has been given the same opportunity.
We may wonder how we can strengthen these feelings of love for brothers and sisters we don’t know, and even some whom we do know but don’t particularly like. There is a way. It is as sure as any formula that I know of. The way to increase our love for others is to first, come unto Christ ourselves, and second, to serve others. The sons of Mosiah, when they repented, followed this pattern with great success.
In Mosiah chapter 28 we read:
3 Now they were desirous that salvation should be declared to every creature, for they could not bear that any human soul should perish; yea, even the very thoughts that any soul should endure endless torment did cause them to quake and tremble.
4 And thus did the Spirit of the Lord work upon them, for they were the very vilest of sinners.
We have so many opportunities to serve others, and many, if not most of these, also provide chances to proclaim the gospel. When our motive is love, the fear of opening our mouths and sharing what we know will be replaced by peace and confidence. “Perfect love casteth out all fear.” (Moroni 8:16)
We proclaim the gospel when we live the gospel ourselves. We proclaim the gospel when we teach our children, our immediate families, and our extended families the doctrines of the Lord’s Church. We proclaim the gospel when we magnify our callings in the church and our assignments as home and visiting teachers. We proclaim the gospel when we help prepare our own children, or others’ children, to serve as full-time missionaries. We proclaim the gospel every time we open our mouths and speak up for faith, truth, goodness, optimism, and gratitude in a world that is increasingly faithless, deceived, depressed, pessimistic, and ungrateful.
Each one of us has such great potential for doing good in this world. There is a reason why Heavenly Father sent us to earth now, at this time, and here, in this place. He believes in us. He has entrusted us with the care of His most precious assets, His children.
We read in D&C 18:
10 Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God;
11 For, behold, the Lord your Redeemer suffered death in the flesh; wherefore he suffered the pain of all men, that all men might repent and come unto him.
12 And he hath risen again from the dead, that he might bring all men unto him, on conditions of repentance.
13 And how great is his joy in the soul that repenteth!
14 Wherefore, you are called to cry repentance unto this people.
15 And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!
16 And now, if your joy will be great with one soul that you have brought unto me into the kingdom of my Father, how great will be your joy if you should bring many souls unto me!
I know this scripture to be true; some of the happiest times in my life have involved seeing those I love accept the gospel and receive its blessings.
Growing up in the church, I have not often had the experience of feeling lost and being found. But we recently had an experience that helped me understand just a little bit how our brothers and sisters without the gospel might feel when we reach out to them and share with them what we know and show them the way to happiness.
A few weeks ago my wife and I were in Idaho to celebrate her sister’s wedding with our family. On the morning of the wedding, we were to leave from where we were staying in Idaho Falls about an hour before the wedding, to travel to the Rexburg temple. We both thought we knew the way, having traveled through Rexburg a couple of times in past years. I knew that when we got to the highway, we turned right and drove until we got to Rexburg. What we didn’t realize is that there was more than one possible road to travel.
As we set out, we made the mistake of turning right on the first highway we encountered. We were running just a little behind, and I was driving as fast as I dared. We tried to distract our restless kids by pointing out the beautiful scenery around us: rolling fields of golden hay with forested mountains on either side of the valley. I was a little puzzled when I recognized the Snake River running parallel to the highway, and I wondered why we hadn’t seen any mileage signs for Rexburg yet, but it wasn’t until the road started turning and descended towards the river that I realized--to my horror--that we were on the wrong road.
After verifying our error at a little tourist shop, my wife burst into tears. The wedding was starting in fifteen minutes and we were now thirty minutes out of Idaho Falls, in the wrong direction. We turned around and started back, going faster than ever, but we really didn’t know where we had gone wrong or how to get on the right road. We desperately tried calling my wife's siblings, but we could not hear anything on our cell phone. After several failed attempts to call for help, we realized our phone had been put into headphones mode, probably through random button-pushing by little Charity. We didn’t know how to fix it. We were stuck. It was now 11:00, time for the wedding, and we were still lost. My wife broke into fresh tears.
Then, as an answer to our silent prayers, the phone rang. My wife tried to answer it, but again, no sound. She remembered that there was a speaker phone feature, and by using that, we were able to finally hear the sweet sound of a concerned brother’s voice, calling to find out why we were not with the rest of the family. We knew we were hopelessly too late, since the photographer, the luncheon, and the reception all hinged on a tight schedule for the day. Still, we felt a great deal of comfort knowing that the family was aware of our predicament. My wife told her brother where we were, that we were probably still 45 minutes away from Rexburg, and that they should go on without us and we would eventually find our way there. After heartfelt “I love you’s” from both ends of the phone, she hung up.
Ten minutes later, as we were approaching Idaho Falls, the phone rang again. It was another brother, one who knew the roads, who understood where we had gone wrong, and who was able to give us detailed directions to get us onto the right highway. His step-by-step instructions probably prevented us from getting lost again, we were so frazzled and disoriented by this point. Again, already ten minutes after the wedding start time, my wife asked them to go on without us.
We finally made it onto the correct highway and saw the road signs confirming this. We were about fifteen minutes out of Rexburg when the phone rang again. It was a brother again, checking up on our progress and making sure we knew which exit to take. My wife broke into tears again, and then on the phone came the voice of the sweet, old temple president. He wanted to assure us personally that they would wait to begin until we arrived.
When we got to the temple, all the workers were waiting for us. They ushered our kids into the waiting area and a worker had us run up the back stairway, since that would be faster than the elevator. When we reached the third floor, panting, my wife's sister and her soon-to-be-husband were there, waiting for us with a smile. They embraced their lost sister and brother in a big hug and told us that how glad they were that we had made it and that they never would have gone on without us.
In all, close to “ninety and nine” people waited for us at the temple. The rest of the day we had both old and new family members telling us how glad they were that we made it. This was sometimes mixed with some good-natured ribbing, but never in a resentful way. There was no passing judgment, no rebuke. Our desperation and embarrassment at having been the “lost sheep” gradually melted away to feelings of gratitude and love for those who reached out to us and waited for us, and that in the end, the whole family was together in the temple. We were whole.
I know that the gospel of Jesus Christ is true and that it has been restored in its fullness in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Nothing in life matters as much as the salvation of God’s children. It is why we are here. I pray that we will all strive to do our best to keep our covenants and help the mission of the church move forward by proclaiming the gospel to our brothers and sisters who are lost, so that we might rejoice together with them in the celestial kingdom some day. How great will be our joy!
* * *
Talk on the subject of “Proclaiming the Gospel”
30 August, 2009
When this world was first formed, our Heavenly Father created two beloved children: a son first, followed by a daughter. God taught Adam and Eve the gospel and joined them together in celestial marriage through His priesthood power. The earth began with a perfect pattern of faithful, obedient children who were taught and believed God’s plan of salvation, and who where joined together as an eternal family.
After their temptation, fall and necessary separation from God, Adam and Eve began their journey into the unknown world, where they had to rely on faith, rather than sight. But our loving Heavenly Father didn’t leave them alone; He sent angels to minister to them and teach them.
Adam and Eve were baptized and received the gift of the Holy Ghost to guide them throughout their long separation from God here in mortality. And God provided a Savior, our Lord Jesus Christ, to rescue them from sin and death and to remove every other obstacle that they would encounter, so that this temporary separation from God, which was a necessary part of their progression, might someday come to an end. God’s design from the beginning was to reclaim all of His children who would choose to return. None were to be left out of His plan.
In Moses chapter 5 we read:
9 And in that day the Holy Ghost fell upon Adam, which beareth record of the Father and the Son, saying: I am the Only Begotten of the Father from the beginning, henceforth and forever, that as thou hast fallen thou mayest be redeemed, and all mankind, even as many as will.
10 And in that day Adam blessed God and was filled, and began to prophesy concerning all the families of the earth, saying: Blessed be the name of God, for because of my transgression my eyes are opened, and in this life I shall have joy, and again in the flesh I shall see God.
11 And Eve, his wife, heard all these things and was glad, saying: Were it not for our transgression we never should have had seed, and never should have known good and evil, and the joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient.
12 And Adam and Eve blessed the name of God, and they made all things known unto their sons and their daughters.
This began the pattern of proclaiming the gospel, which has been a central theme of God’s dealings with His children throughout the history of the world. The first family home evenings consisted of Adam and Eve and their posterity, gathered and discussing the plan they were all engaged in. These were also the first general conferences, because the church in its entirety was simply a family. When they first gathered their family for prayer, the entire population of the earth was united together in faith. Their journals and family histories became the first scriptures. There was nothing to prevent a perpetual state of peace and righteousness that included every member of the human family, except their own disobedience.
We all know that Satan worked very hard and sadly, had some success among Adam and Eve’s children. Thus the work of proclaiming the gospel became a little bit harder. There was resistance. But the grand goal of God’s plan of happiness, to provide the gifts of immortality and eternal life to every one of God’s children who ever has, and ever will live on this earth, remained the same. This goal is the same today, in our day, when only a small fraction of our brothers and sisters know the saving truths of the fullness of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Adam and Eve were charged with a mission to start the world out right, bringing into existence a family who knew and understood God’s plan. Because of this knowledge, every child of God was able to choose happiness or misery for himself. Our mission today, in the last days of the earth, is similar: we are to do all we can to proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ to our brothers and sisters living today, providing them with opportunities to hear and accept the truth so that they can also be empowered to choose happiness or misery.
We have been given the gospel in its fullness. This brings both incredible blessings and tremendous responsibilities, including sharing the gospel with others. Only when every member of God’s great human family has been given this opportunity, will His all-encompassing plan be complete. And only when we have done all we can to assist in this great work will we be able to rest at peace, knowing we have done all we could to provide salvation for our family.
To get to that state of peace, it will not be guilt, or even duty, that motivates us to share the gospel. Instead, our motivation and strength will come from an all-consuming love that burns in our hearts because we are family. We will stop seeing the world at large, and even our neighbors close to home, in an “us and them” sort of way. Instead, we will recognize that the same Savior who gave His blood and life to save us from our sins also suffered for every other member of our family here on earth. Just as Adam and Eve wanted all of their posterity to be saved, so will we not be satisfied until every child of God has been given the same opportunity.
We may wonder how we can strengthen these feelings of love for brothers and sisters we don’t know, and even some whom we do know but don’t particularly like. There is a way. It is as sure as any formula that I know of. The way to increase our love for others is to first, come unto Christ ourselves, and second, to serve others. The sons of Mosiah, when they repented, followed this pattern with great success.
In Mosiah chapter 28 we read:
3 Now they were desirous that salvation should be declared to every creature, for they could not bear that any human soul should perish; yea, even the very thoughts that any soul should endure endless torment did cause them to quake and tremble.
4 And thus did the Spirit of the Lord work upon them, for they were the very vilest of sinners.
We have so many opportunities to serve others, and many, if not most of these, also provide chances to proclaim the gospel. When our motive is love, the fear of opening our mouths and sharing what we know will be replaced by peace and confidence. “Perfect love casteth out all fear.” (Moroni 8:16)
We proclaim the gospel when we live the gospel ourselves. We proclaim the gospel when we teach our children, our immediate families, and our extended families the doctrines of the Lord’s Church. We proclaim the gospel when we magnify our callings in the church and our assignments as home and visiting teachers. We proclaim the gospel when we help prepare our own children, or others’ children, to serve as full-time missionaries. We proclaim the gospel every time we open our mouths and speak up for faith, truth, goodness, optimism, and gratitude in a world that is increasingly faithless, deceived, depressed, pessimistic, and ungrateful.
Each one of us has such great potential for doing good in this world. There is a reason why Heavenly Father sent us to earth now, at this time, and here, in this place. He believes in us. He has entrusted us with the care of His most precious assets, His children.
We read in D&C 18:
10 Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God;
11 For, behold, the Lord your Redeemer suffered death in the flesh; wherefore he suffered the pain of all men, that all men might repent and come unto him.
12 And he hath risen again from the dead, that he might bring all men unto him, on conditions of repentance.
13 And how great is his joy in the soul that repenteth!
14 Wherefore, you are called to cry repentance unto this people.
15 And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!
16 And now, if your joy will be great with one soul that you have brought unto me into the kingdom of my Father, how great will be your joy if you should bring many souls unto me!
I know this scripture to be true; some of the happiest times in my life have involved seeing those I love accept the gospel and receive its blessings.
Growing up in the church, I have not often had the experience of feeling lost and being found. But we recently had an experience that helped me understand just a little bit how our brothers and sisters without the gospel might feel when we reach out to them and share with them what we know and show them the way to happiness.
A few weeks ago my wife and I were in Idaho to celebrate her sister’s wedding with our family. On the morning of the wedding, we were to leave from where we were staying in Idaho Falls about an hour before the wedding, to travel to the Rexburg temple. We both thought we knew the way, having traveled through Rexburg a couple of times in past years. I knew that when we got to the highway, we turned right and drove until we got to Rexburg. What we didn’t realize is that there was more than one possible road to travel.
As we set out, we made the mistake of turning right on the first highway we encountered. We were running just a little behind, and I was driving as fast as I dared. We tried to distract our restless kids by pointing out the beautiful scenery around us: rolling fields of golden hay with forested mountains on either side of the valley. I was a little puzzled when I recognized the Snake River running parallel to the highway, and I wondered why we hadn’t seen any mileage signs for Rexburg yet, but it wasn’t until the road started turning and descended towards the river that I realized--to my horror--that we were on the wrong road.
After verifying our error at a little tourist shop, my wife burst into tears. The wedding was starting in fifteen minutes and we were now thirty minutes out of Idaho Falls, in the wrong direction. We turned around and started back, going faster than ever, but we really didn’t know where we had gone wrong or how to get on the right road. We desperately tried calling my wife's siblings, but we could not hear anything on our cell phone. After several failed attempts to call for help, we realized our phone had been put into headphones mode, probably through random button-pushing by little Charity. We didn’t know how to fix it. We were stuck. It was now 11:00, time for the wedding, and we were still lost. My wife broke into fresh tears.
Then, as an answer to our silent prayers, the phone rang. My wife tried to answer it, but again, no sound. She remembered that there was a speaker phone feature, and by using that, we were able to finally hear the sweet sound of a concerned brother’s voice, calling to find out why we were not with the rest of the family. We knew we were hopelessly too late, since the photographer, the luncheon, and the reception all hinged on a tight schedule for the day. Still, we felt a great deal of comfort knowing that the family was aware of our predicament. My wife told her brother where we were, that we were probably still 45 minutes away from Rexburg, and that they should go on without us and we would eventually find our way there. After heartfelt “I love you’s” from both ends of the phone, she hung up.
Ten minutes later, as we were approaching Idaho Falls, the phone rang again. It was another brother, one who knew the roads, who understood where we had gone wrong, and who was able to give us detailed directions to get us onto the right highway. His step-by-step instructions probably prevented us from getting lost again, we were so frazzled and disoriented by this point. Again, already ten minutes after the wedding start time, my wife asked them to go on without us.
We finally made it onto the correct highway and saw the road signs confirming this. We were about fifteen minutes out of Rexburg when the phone rang again. It was a brother again, checking up on our progress and making sure we knew which exit to take. My wife broke into tears again, and then on the phone came the voice of the sweet, old temple president. He wanted to assure us personally that they would wait to begin until we arrived.
When we got to the temple, all the workers were waiting for us. They ushered our kids into the waiting area and a worker had us run up the back stairway, since that would be faster than the elevator. When we reached the third floor, panting, my wife's sister and her soon-to-be-husband were there, waiting for us with a smile. They embraced their lost sister and brother in a big hug and told us that how glad they were that we had made it and that they never would have gone on without us.
In all, close to “ninety and nine” people waited for us at the temple. The rest of the day we had both old and new family members telling us how glad they were that we made it. This was sometimes mixed with some good-natured ribbing, but never in a resentful way. There was no passing judgment, no rebuke. Our desperation and embarrassment at having been the “lost sheep” gradually melted away to feelings of gratitude and love for those who reached out to us and waited for us, and that in the end, the whole family was together in the temple. We were whole.
I know that the gospel of Jesus Christ is true and that it has been restored in its fullness in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Nothing in life matters as much as the salvation of God’s children. It is why we are here. I pray that we will all strive to do our best to keep our covenants and help the mission of the church move forward by proclaiming the gospel to our brothers and sisters who are lost, so that we might rejoice together with them in the celestial kingdom some day. How great will be our joy!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Ruminations on Baby Diets
It occurred to me tonight, after my 11-month-old daughter Charity refused to eat a pea that was in a spoonful of her baby food, but gladly popped in a small piece of chalk she found while scouring the baseboards, that there is some serious irony in comparing what she will and will not eat. For example, here is a partial list of things she has put (and kept) in her mouth lately:
* Scraps of paper
* Popcorn kernels
* Dust bunnies
* Thread from clothes
* Any toy she can find on the floor
* Shoes
* Socks
* Grass
* Bark
* Twigs
* Sand
* Chalk
* Dried up old pieces of macaroni and cheese that fell on the floor earlier today
* Dirt
And here is a partial list of things she quickly spits out when they find their way into her mouth:
* Peas
* Chunks of carrot
* Broccoli
* Corn
* Green beans
It seems as if her taste buds are trying to tell us something: if vegetables taste worse than dirt, don't you think they were probably never meant to be eaten?
My wife doesn't buy it.
* Scraps of paper
* Popcorn kernels
* Dust bunnies
* Thread from clothes
* Any toy she can find on the floor
* Shoes
* Socks
* Grass
* Bark
* Twigs
* Sand
* Chalk
* Dried up old pieces of macaroni and cheese that fell on the floor earlier today
* Dirt
And here is a partial list of things she quickly spits out when they find their way into her mouth:
* Peas
* Chunks of carrot
* Broccoli
* Corn
* Green beans
It seems as if her taste buds are trying to tell us something: if vegetables taste worse than dirt, don't you think they were probably never meant to be eaten?
My wife doesn't buy it.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Imitation is Great--But THIS?
One of the most enjoyable, ego-stroking parts of being a father to young children is seeing their earnest attempts to imitate me. As Anne Shirley, the fictional orphan of the beloved Anne of Green Gables books so aptly says, "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."
And flatter me my children do. From the youngest age, they learn to mimic facial expressions, lighting up a whole room when they return a toothless grin, tugging at their parents' heart strings when they repeat back "Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma" and "Da-da-da." In fact, it has not escaped my attention that my eleven-month-old daughter Charity seems to say "Da-da-da" when she is feeling her very happiest. Flattery, oh yes. She seems to understand already who the weaker parent is when it comes to getting one's little way or begging for a special treat.
Charity has recently supplemented her one-syllable-repeating-word vocabulary with some fabulous non-word sounds, a family favorite being her lip-smacking noise that she lets loose when she hears us blowing kisses. Yes, with deep blue eyes at least twice too big for the rest of her body, she is an A-grade kiss-blower.
She has also started doing "raspberry" sounds, much to the delight of her older siblings. She sticks that little pink tongue out and blows with her might, vibrating her whole mouth and sending spittle into the stratosphere. Yes, her siblings are enjoying the flattery of imitation too.
But ultimately, my wife and I set the gold standard for our children's' behavior, as far as imitation goes. With such power of suggestion comes some inherent responsibility, an inconvenient detail I sometimes forget. But I was reminded today as I walked into the kitchen where I had placed Charity in her high chair for lunch. It was just the two of us in the room. She looked eagerly at me, and as I not-so-discretely discharged some gassy buildup from my bowels, she responded with a loud, long raspberry.
Laugh if you want; I sure did.
Yes, imitation is great, but it looks like I've got to start watching my vocabulary.
And flatter me my children do. From the youngest age, they learn to mimic facial expressions, lighting up a whole room when they return a toothless grin, tugging at their parents' heart strings when they repeat back "Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma" and "Da-da-da." In fact, it has not escaped my attention that my eleven-month-old daughter Charity seems to say "Da-da-da" when she is feeling her very happiest. Flattery, oh yes. She seems to understand already who the weaker parent is when it comes to getting one's little way or begging for a special treat.
Charity has recently supplemented her one-syllable-repeating-word vocabulary with some fabulous non-word sounds, a family favorite being her lip-smacking noise that she lets loose when she hears us blowing kisses. Yes, with deep blue eyes at least twice too big for the rest of her body, she is an A-grade kiss-blower.
She has also started doing "raspberry" sounds, much to the delight of her older siblings. She sticks that little pink tongue out and blows with her might, vibrating her whole mouth and sending spittle into the stratosphere. Yes, her siblings are enjoying the flattery of imitation too.
But ultimately, my wife and I set the gold standard for our children's' behavior, as far as imitation goes. With such power of suggestion comes some inherent responsibility, an inconvenient detail I sometimes forget. But I was reminded today as I walked into the kitchen where I had placed Charity in her high chair for lunch. It was just the two of us in the room. She looked eagerly at me, and as I not-so-discretely discharged some gassy buildup from my bowels, she responded with a loud, long raspberry.
Laugh if you want; I sure did.
Yes, imitation is great, but it looks like I've got to start watching my vocabulary.
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