Back in February I finished and submitted our taxes and found out how much we would receive back with tax returns. I pondered all the things we would need to earmark the money for, but then had another thought cross my mind. I thought that since our daughter, Blythe, is back from her 1 1/2 years of service as a missionary for our church, we need to do a family trip while we still have all of our children back together – before our other boys are of on missions and/or off on their own. It was then I remembered the savings fund I had our bank account send money to automatically every month to save for a family trip. This would give us some money to work with for lodging.
I approached my wife, Jill, with the idea, and told her about the amount of money saved, as well as what we’d get back with tax returns. She knew immediately after I said something that we needed to do this. I knew we needed to do it too. This would be something that would help us bond us all together again as a family, before the older ones go of into the world to make their own way. It just felt right, like God was saying, “you need to do this.”
From that point Jill and Blythe took the reins of vacation planning and went to town! We had talked about wanting to see the Pacific coast in Oregon and the giant redwood trees. They found some rental homes near the coast that were within our price range for the week of the kids’ spring break. They narrowed the list down to seven options, and then we had a Family Home Evening where we basically listened to the descriptions of the places, along with their amenities and a list of nearby sites to visit. We also looked at the virtual tours of each house with pictures. Then we each voted for our top three places, and then for our number one choice. When votes were counted, Bandon, Oregon won, with the Bandon Cliff House as the winner. When funds were available we reserved the house for four nights.
Everyone decided that we would leave for Oregon on Sunday, listening to the General Conference broadcast on the way. We would stay over night in Lakeview, Oregon and on Monday travel the rest of the way to Bandon, Oregon to occupy the house there for four nights. Then we would drive home on Friday afternoon and into the night, trading drivers so we could travel straight through back home (Springville, Utah).
Jill and Blythe also planned out meals. I made a big batch of my homemade chicken enchiladas which we then froze in plastic freezer bags to take on our trip in the ice chest. We also packed boxes of food from our cupboards. On the day before, we cooked some pork roast in the crock pot so that we could just heat up the meat in the microwave at the motel in Lakeview, Oregon and have pulled pork sandwiches for dinner. This sort of meal planning saved us a lot in food expenses for the trip. It would not have happened without the hard work of Jill and Blythe and their meticulous efforts.
Everyone was so anxiously waiting, but the day of the trip finally arrived – Sunday, April 1, 2018 – April Fools Day. But, it was no April Fool’s joke. We were off on the first true vacation that we had ever taken as a family. I felt like declaring, “Oregon, here we come!”
Wow! I cannot believe it has been almost for years since I last posted on here! That is just far too long! My youngest son, whom I posted about when he was born, is now almost four. Our oldest is now twenty-two, and he keeps honing his musical and artistic skills. He is a responsible hard worker, and has been working full-time.
I guess life gets busy and we get so involved in a myriad of things that we sometimes lose track of time and of how important it can really be to record our lives for our posterity. Spencer W. Kimball shared some sage advice on this topic. He said:
Your story should be written now while it is fresh and while the true details are available…
Write [about] your goings and your comings, your deeper thoughts, your achievements and your failures, your associations and your triumphs, your impressions and your testimonies…
Those who keep a personal journal are more likely to keep the Lord in remembrance in their daily lives.”
Kimball, Spencer W. President Kimball Speaks Out. Deseret Book Co., 1981, pp. 57, 59.
In pondering this, I realize that I need to do better with this, both with my blog here as well as with my handwritten journal. I could sure use keeping the Lord in remembrance in my life a bit more right now – who couldn’t? So, I am going to make the attempt.
Four years ago I was attending Utah Valley University part-time as a computer science student, and was working there full-time as an academic advisor. I finished that degree in April 2016 and started working as a Computer Scientist at Hill Air Force Base in the late summer of 2016. My career change finally came to fruition.
My oldest daughter served a mission for the LDS Church in the Atlanta, Georgia area. She helped a lot of people draw closer to God. She served for a year and a half. She is an amazing woman who overcame a lot of challenges in her life to just be able to go on her mission.
My third finished high school a year ago and struggled through a whole semester of full-time college and a part-time job with some serious health issues. He did so well in bearing up under his trials. He’s a strong young man.
He recently performed the oratorio “The Lamb of God” by Rob Gardner with a group that puts it on annually around Easter. It was so amazing that words just fail to describe its spiritual power.
What makes me feel old is that our middle child is almost eighteen and will graduate from high school in another couple of months. He has been serving in the role of senior class president and has participated in theater. He’s a responsible young man.
Our fifth is fourteen, almost fifteen. In another month he will be able to get his learners permit for driving. As a freshman in high school he has been participating in theater and has been learning the guitar over the past few years. He’s a very talented young man.
Then there is our youngest daughter. It seems like just yesterday she was born, yet she was baptized in January. I just can’t believe my little girl is eight years old. She is a sweet, thoughtful and considerate girl that is growing up too fast.
Then our youngest – almost four – wow! How did this happen? Where did the time go? I love my family and feel extremely grateful to Heavenly Father for this wonderful blessing in my life!
The other day as I was dropping off my kids for school, I heard some things that really grated against what I believe and hold true. Let me set the stage. We arrived later than usual at the school where my younger children attend. My youngest children were getting out just as the late signal rang and the U.S. national anthem started blaring across loudspeakers outside. Two of my boys started chuckling at the cheesy sound of the anthem as it came out all muffled and weird sounding. I have to admit it did sound a bit strange – I didn’t even recognize it at first.
As we then drove off to the other school the conversation turned to parents my boys had seen in the past that, as soon as the national anthem came over the loudspeakers, would stop and put their hand over their heart. They started laughing at this, mocking them for doing something so ridiculous. I was rather shocked. Jill and I have always done similarly in such situations, making a show of our patriotism for our country. We’ve taught our children principles of patriotism and gratitude for our freedoms. We’ve always expected them to do the same – show reverence and respect for our flag, patriotism and thankfulness for our country. Yet here were my own children laughing to scorn those that demonstrated such patriotism. I felt hurt. I felt disappointed. I felt ashamed.
I only had a few seconds to respond before my boys got out of the van and left for their classes. So, I simply asked, “Don’t you have any sense of patriotism for your country?” One of them responded as he left, “Not the way things are going right now.” And then he was gone. I felt hurt, but also saddened because I could see why my son would feel the way he does. It is hard to feel patriotic in an environment where heads of government and judicial review completely disregard the principles espoused in our constitution and the standards revered by our founding fathers, blatantly supporting things like abortion, the murder of innocent children. Thus, I really didn’t have a response for my son, even were he still around to hear it, but I was left to ponder on these things.
Then, this morning, while walking to the bus stop in the rain, some things came to me that I now want to share with my boys and with the world. I walked past a house that was flying the U.S. flag, but as it was still dark, it had not light to illuminate it. This is wrong, I thought. The flag is supposed to have a light shining on it if flown during times of darkness. I wondered how they could disregard flag protocol. My thoughts returned to the actions of my boys, and their words. I wondered if patriotism as I knew it in my days as a youth was disappearing in the generation of my children.
As I wondered this I recalled the experience of my youth that for me opened my heart to patriotism and love and respect for our country, our flag, and the freedoms they stand for. I had been listening to a recording of my mothers on July fourth – Independence Day. It was a recording of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s Music and the Spoken Word doing the story of the Battle Hymn of the Republic. There was a narration of the history of the song up through to the era of the civil war. Julia Ward Howe had heard soldiers heading off to war singing the old John Brown’s Body lyrics to the tune and heard soldiers with obscenities on their lips. After asking the person she was standing with why soldiers would go off to war like this, the individual responded, “Why don’t you do something about it?”
This spurred her on and she stated, “I went to bed that night as usual, and slept, according to my wont, quite soundly. I awoke in the gray of the morning twilight; and as I lay waiting for the dawn, the long lines of the desired poem began to twine themselves in my mind. Having thought out all the stanzas, I said to myself, ‘I must get up and write these verses down, lest I fall asleep again and forget them.’ So, with a sudden effort, I sprang out of bed, and found in the dimness an old stump of a pen which I remembered to have used the day before. I scrawled the verses almost without looking at the paper.” (see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Battle_Hymn_of_the_Republic).
Thus came about the lyrics to The Battle Hymn of the Republic:
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword:
His truth is marching on.
(Chorus)
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps,
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps:
His day is marching on.
(Chorus)
I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
“As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal”;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on.
(Chorus)
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat;
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.
(Chorus)
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me.
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.
(Chorus)
He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave,
He is Wisdom to the mighty, He is Succour to the brave,
So the world shall be His footstool, and the soul of Time His slave,
Our God is marching on.
(Chorus)
This story and rendition of this hymn made me weep with thanksgiving to our God for his mercy in providing us the freedoms we enjoy today. I was a youth transformed. From that time forth I swell with patriotism whenever I see our flag, whenever I see our soldiers, whenever I see symbols of our country, and whenever I hear this song.
Here is a newer version of the rendition of this hymn, which technically only includes verses one, four, and five from the original poem:
I also found this story behind the hymn:
So then I wondered that if my own children do not feel or have not felt what I have felt, what can I do about it. Julia Ward Howe did something about it. What can I do? What can we ALL do to help those around us feel of the gratitude for our country, and feel the reverence and respect for our country, our troops, and our flag even while the situation of our country seems to be in a downward spiral?
The first thing to remember is what God has said about this country and its founding. The Book of Mormon prophet, Nephi, was shown a vision close to 600 B.C. in which he saw the beginnings of the United States of America after its Revolutionary War with Great Britain (1 Nephi 13:17-19):
17 And I beheld that their mother Gentiles were gathered together upon the waters, and upon the land also, to battle against them.
18 And I beheld that the power of God was with them, and also that the wrath of God was upon all those that were gathered together against them to battle.
19 And I, Nephi, beheld that the Gentiles that had gone out of captivity were delivered by the power of God out of the hands of all other nations.
Then, in the Doctrine and Covenants a revelation was received by the Prophet Joseph after the early Saints in Missouri had suffered persecutions and many had been driven from their homes by angry mobs (D&C 101:76-80):
76 And again I say unto you, those who have been scattered by their enemies, it is my will that they should continue to importune for redress, and redemption, by the hands of those who are placed as rulers and are in authority over you—
77 According to the laws and constitution of the people, which I have suffered to be established, and should be maintained for the rights and protection of all flesh, according to just and holy principles;
78 That every man may act in doctrine and principle pertaining to futurity, according to the moral agency which I have given unto him, that every man may be accountable for his own sins in the day of judgment.
79 Therefore, it is not right that any man should be in bondage one to another.
80 And for this purpose have I established the Constitution of this land, by the hands of wise men whom I raised up unto this very purpose, and redeemed the land by the shedding of blood.
Tal It is clear from these scriptures that God established the Constitution of the United States of America. Though God brought this about through imperfect men, there was guidance received by them to make it happen. If one accepts the Book of Mormon and the Doctrine and Covenants as the word of God to his prophets in addition to the Holy Bible, and if one also accepts Joseph Smith the prophet who restored the full gospel of Jesus Christ to the earth, then one must also accept that God inspired the founders of the United States of America in the establishment of a new government, and that this document was truly from God Himself.
Every president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints after Joseph Smith has also reaffirmed the divinity of the Constitution of the United States of America (see http://eom.byu.edu/index.php/Constitution_of_the_United_States_of_America). Then they have each reiterated prophecies of Joseph Smith that, “Even this nation will be on the verge of crumbling to pieces and tumbling to the ground and when the Constitution is on the brink of ruin this people will be the staff upon which the nation shall lean and they shall bear the Constitution away from the very verge of destruction.” (Joseph Smith Papers, LDS Church Historical Archives, Box 1, March 10, 1844.) Regarding this statement and others like it that were quoted by others, Ezra Taft Benson stated, “For years we have heard of the role the elders could play in saving the Constitution from total destruction. But how can the elders be expected to save it if they have not studied it and are not sure if is being destroyed or what is destroying it?” (Teachings of Ezra Taft Benson, 619-620).
From this statement I propose that there are five ways for us to renew feelings of patriotism, feelings of love, honor, reverence, and respect for our nation, our government, our freedoms, our troops, and our flag. First, we must individually study the Constitution of the United States of America. Second, we need to pray for guidance from our Father in Heaven to recognize when we see forces trying to change it. Third, we need to ponder and pray about what we can individually do to help in preserving constitutional principles. Fourth, we need to share our love and positive feelings for the great things God has given us in the United States of America with those we love. Fifth, we should start to visibly demonstrate (if we haven’t already) signs of our patriotism for the ideal of our country for which we should continue to strive no matter what is happening around us.
So, to help you and me alike to get to work studying the Constitution, here is a link to the full text of the Constitution itself, including the amendments: http://constitutionus.com. Then, here are some other great things I plan on reading:
A wonderful blessing entered our lives on Tuesday, June 3, 2014. Stewart Henry Gifford was born in the American Fork, Utah Hospital at 3:38 p.m., weighing in at 8 lbs. 9 oz. and measuring 21 inches long.
I had spent several hours watching the love of my life go through such excruciating pain in preparing to deliver Stewart into this world. I was almost in tears seeing her suffering like that and feeling so helpless to do anything to help her other than be by her side reassuring her. So when Stewart finally made his appearance, I was so overcome with relief that the hardest part for Jill was over and with joy that Stewart was finally here that tears came to my eyes. I was so relieved that Jill was okay – she was my superhero! She was absolutely amazing! I was also overcome with such joy at our newborn son, so innocent and fresh from heaven, and new to this world. Words cannot describe to emotions that I went through in seeing such a miracle as the birth of my son!
Stewart didn’t cry much when he was born. They brought him up to snuggle with Jill right after the delivery and then he stopped breathing and started turning blue. One of the nurses grabbed him and put him onto the little bed for newborns that has a heater above it. She immediately started rubbing him down to stimulate him to breathe. He responded and started breathing again and pinked up, but his breathing was fast and shallow. We were all concerned for him.
They monitored him for 20 – 30 minutes in the room, watching his breathing rate and making sure his vital signs were okay. After that I went with him down to the nursery to be with him while he was “checked in.” This means they had to enter all his information into the computer, take his footprints, give him the newborn physical screening, give him his newborn bath, and get him dressed. Stewart and I waited for probably half an hour in the nursery before they could get to him because of about five other newborns ahead of him to get the same things done. Of course, Stewart didn’t mind because he was laying under a heat lamp on a little bed sleeping.
When the nurse got to giving him his bath, he didn’t mind too much, except when they took off his diaper and washed that area down. That was the most I heard him cry since he was born, and even that wasn’t much. It was just a short little cry.
After he was bathed, we had to wait some more while the nurse entered his information into their computer. However, it was fun to see all the babies in the nursery, and to be by Stewart as we waited.
With all of our other children, they’ve had fairly large feet at birth (for a newborn), and Jill had just been saying to me that we always got comments from nurses saying, “Wow, his/her feet are really big!” She didn’t want to hear anyone say that about Stewart. In fact, the nurse that checked him did NOT end up saying anything about him having big feet. I was happy to report this back to Jill. Of course, the next day Jill had a nurse tell her that exact same thing – that Stewart had really big feet.
Finally Stewart was ready, and I was able to take him to the recovery room they had moved Jill to so he could see his mommy. Jill was so excited to finally have her baby back in her arms.
The other day, as I was sharing some stories from the time I served a two-year mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in Mendoza, Argentina, my son, Seth, was asking a lot of questions about the story I shared. I said to him that I realized that these stories have never been recorded. My journals have a lot of experiences in them, but not a lot of the stories I shared over and over agains with my children as bedtime stories when they were younger. Thus, I felt that I should begin a journey to record these experiences. I’m not sure yet if I want to do it in such a public venue as this blog – I’m still trying to figure out exactly what I want to do, and how I want to record them. For now, I thought I would share a story that I don’t mind sharing on this blog:
When I first arrived in Argentina I had been studying Spanish in the Missionary Training Center (MTC) in Provo, Utah for four months (for those of you familiar with LDS missions, the usual time in the MTC for a foreign language mission was two months). I had been delayed because I had to have surgery to have a cyst removed before being shipped off to Argentina. I was anxious to get to the country to start preaching the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. It was a 13-hour flight from Los Angeles (we had to go to the Argentinian Consulate in LA to officially obtain our visas to be able to remain in Argentina for two years) to Buenos Aires. My first shock was going from three feet of snow in Provo in January to the middle of a hot, muggy summer in Buenos Aires. I stepped off the plane with my big heave trenchcoat on and quickly realized that I needed to strip down to just my white shirt and roll up my sleeves. I had been told about the seasons in the southern hemisphere being opposite, but it never really sunk in until I experienced it.
The next shock to me was getting into the airport with the small group of missionaries I was with and realizing that everyone but us was speaking in Spanish, even the announcements over the loudspeaker. Despite having studied it intensively for four months, I could not understand any of what people were saying. It was one thing to hear an instructor speak it in the classroom, but it was entirely different to be thrown into a place where my native language was no longer being spoken by anyone but those in my tiny group. Everyone seemed to be speaking so fast – I couldn’t make out where one word ended and the next word began. Only here and there was I picking out words that I could understand. I was more than a little nervous and scared. I realized that I was going to be here for two years.
We had to disembark at the Ezeiza International Airport in Buenos Aires and then catch a bus from there to the other airport closer to downtown Buenos Aires.
Ministro Pistarini Ezeiza International Airport, Buenos Aires, Argentina
I don’t remember how that worked, but someone in our group knew where to go to catch the proper bus that would take us to the other airport (I think somewhere I still have the ticket from that bus ride). It was a ride that allowed us all to stare out the windows and get a good look at what Argentina was like. It took us on a freeway that went right past the LDS Buenos Aires Temple.
This was taken from the bus we were riding in (Buenos Aires Temple)
We also drove past residential areas and into the heart of downtown Buenos Aires, heading for the Aeroparque Jorge Newberry, another airport very near the bay of the Rio de la Plata, the large river that separates Argentina from Uruguay on its other side. From this airport we would catch another flight to the province of Mendoza on the other side of the country. It was an awesome sight seeing huge docks and shipping yards along the river as we neared the airport. Everything was so new and so beautiful.
Upon arrival at Jorge Newbery, we had to find our way to the right terminal for our next flight. In struggling to find our way around in a new place without the language skills to understand anyone, we were all a bit overwhelmed and scared. To our surprise and great relief, a woman who spoke English came to our rescue. She lived in the United States but was flying to Mendoza to visit her family there. She guided us to the right terminal. We were very appreciative of her and thanked her profusely.
While waiting for the next flight I decided I would go to the restroom before we had to board. The facilities were right across from where we were waiting. I entered and had another shock. There were no enclosed bathroom stalls whatsoever. There was one big urinal wall that was open all the way across. Then there was another wall, also all open, with holes in the floor and feet marks in front where one would squat to poop into the hold in the floor. This was too much! I wasn’t about to relieve myself openly in front of complete strangers, with absolutely no privacy. I turned around and left, deciding I’d wait and relieve myself on the plane.
It was about an hour and a half flight from Buenos Aires to Mendoza (about 700 miles). We boarded the old-fashioned way – walking out from the terminal across the tarmac to the plane, going up the staircase that was set up against the side of the plane. I was happy to get on board and finally be able to privately relieve myself in the restroom. I was very aware as the flight attendants served us Sprite from glass bottles, realizing that soft drink brands here were very much the same as at home, but in glass bottles instead.
As we came in for a landing in Mendoza, I remember looking out the window and thinking that it was weird to see a large airport surrounded by what looked like ghettos and dirt roads. Strange to have such modern forms of transportation and yet find such poor conditions right next door. The mission president met us at the airport – he was from the United States. We loaded up our luggage into his car, a fairly newer model Peugeot, a popular make of car in Argentina at that time. We rode with wide eyes, staring out the windows and taking in all the new sites, to the mission home in downtown Mendoza, leaving the ghettos region behind as the freeway drew closer to downtown. We got into areas of smaller skyscrapers, busy with traffic. The mission home was in a fairly nice area of the city, and it was nice to be there with our mission president and his wife (President Charles Eastwood and his wife), both of whom were from the U.S. Sister Eastwood served us a delicious dinner and we received instruction from the mission president.
President Charles and Sister Eastwood, Mendoza, Argentina
Later on we were taken by the assistants to the president (the APs) in the mission van to a small hotel nearby for the night. This was a very old hotel, with a small office at the front for check-in, and narrow halls and steep staircases to the rooms. The APs got us checked in and showed us up to our room on the third or fourth floor – a shared room with several small single beds (4-5 of them) with hard matresses and no box springs. Then they showed us the bathroom, telling us all about the bidet attachment on the toilet. It was a lever that when moved, made a sprayer slide out into the middle of the toilet. It was for washing oneself off after doing “number 2 in the bathroom. The APs swore up and down how awesome the bidets were, and how they loved to use them instead of toilet paper. I was skeptical because I had never tried one before. Later on, I actually did try it, but I held the hot water lever too long and slightly scalded my rear-end – ouch!!! Looking out the back window of our room, I through the center of the block and saw the ruins of some very old brick buildings there. It made me wonder how long it had been that way.
Picture taken from the hotel room of the ruins behind the hotel
This all made me think that all the modernity of Argentina was sort of tourist trappy – all show on the outside to make a good impression on the visitors, but then deep down on the inside of everything there were run-down neighborhoods, dirt roads, old adobe brick houses with cane walls plastered with mud and dirt floors, and widescale poverty. This is what I started prepping myself for as I lay in that hotel room and dozed off to sleep. I wondered how the Lord would help me learn the language well enough to be able to communicate with people. I was anxious and nervous, yet at the same time, ready to dive into the Lord’s word in harvesting souls for his cause.
This evening I enjoyed being with my boys as they worked on the dishes. At our house, Sundays are the days boys are responsible to do all the dishes. Gavin, without fail, always pulls up and turns on some Sabbath music. He was playing different hymns through YouTube. That got me wanting to create a playlist that I could use for this – one with good Sabbath music. So, I added it to my YouTube channel and started searching for a lot of the songs Gavin likes to hear on the Sabbath. Then, after most of the kids were in bed, I continued adding some songs. This one in particular really strikes a chord with me every time I hear it:
So here’s the story behind it: The year: 1992. Location: General Alvear, Mendoza, Argentina. It was a Sunday morning and church services were starting. The branch president had asked me about a month previous to give a talk that day in sacrament meeting. I spent several hours over the previous week preparing a talk. However, when the branch president got up and announced the program that day, he announced different speakers, completely leaving me out. A flood of anger washed over me. How could he do this to me? I spent hours preparing my talk. He asked me in advance to do this and now he forgets? I was boiling inside, yet I knew I shouldn’t be.
The opening song started, and it was this one: Did You Think to Pray? I was just singing words that didn’t mean anything to me as the anger simmered inside. Then came the second verse:
When your heart was filled with anger, did you think to pray?
Did you plead for grace, my brother, that you might forgive another
Who had crossed your way?
Oh, how praying rests the weary!
Prayer will change the night to day.
So, when life gets dark and dreary,
Don’t forget to pray.
It hit me like a steam train. This was a message from God right to me at that very moment. I needed to pray for grace to forgive the branch president. I knew he didn’t do this to me maliciously. It was just a simple oversight, a human bout of forgetfulness. We all have this happen at one time or another. Tears rolled down my checks as God’s love rushed into my heart and I looked up with love at the branch president. He had no idea that this had even happened to me, and yet my heart swelled with love for him and his diligent service to the Lord.
Now every time I hear this hymn, it is like I feel God’s voice speaking directly to my soul. It moves me still almost to tears. I am so grateful that Heavenly Father loves us enough to help us get past our human foibles and has mercy enough to forget what we’ve done wrong in the past and see what we can become – he sees our potential. I am grateful that he loves me enough to encourage me on despite how many times I’ve let him down in the past. He loves us all this much. Let’s hear his voice and strive harder to be what he knows we can become. He reminds us all, “Don’t Forget to Pray!”
My thoughts are going a hundred miles an hour. They are racing between so many different things right now. My 16-year-old niece, Reesa Kammerman, passed away last Sunday and her viewing is today, with her funeral tomorrow. She will sorely be missed.
Also, I’ve been working on my wife’s website for her business, trying to find the right e-commerce software to use. Things have been crazy busy for everyone, with hardly a moment to just sit and ponder.
As I sit here listening to John Rutter’s Requiem, I am flooded with feelings of love for my Savior, Jesus Christ. I marvel at how he could love me and want to redeem me when I continue to disappoint him and our Heavenly Father. I am a sinner – imperfect. I feel as Nephi exclaimed:
…my heart exclaimeth: O wretched man that I am! Yea, my heart sorroweth because of my flesh; my soul grieveth because of mine iniquities. I am encompassed about, because of the temptations and the sins which do so easily beset me.
(Book of Mormon | 2 Nephi 4:17 – 18)
I was overcome with the Spirit and overwhelmed with feelings of marveling in Sunday School today as I gazed at a picture of Jesus Christ in the garden of Gethsemane while a brother in our class read this scripture:
For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent; But if they would not repent they must suffer even as I; Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink—Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men.
(Doctrine and Covenants | Section 19:16 – 19)
The image of a wine press, pressing the juice out of grapes came to mind. Christ, under the weight of the sins of the universe, was crushed so that blood came out of every pore in like manner. It is beyond comprehension the excruciating pain that must have been. But how thankful I am that because of his love for me, his brother, he finished the task and bore that pain.
I pray that I can always live worthy of being able to bring this atonement into play in my life. As the hymn, Lead Kindly Light says in plea to the Lord, “Remember not past years.” Help me go forward and serve God with diligence and faith.
I got to teach the Gospel Doctrine class today in Sunday School. We were studying third Nephi chapters 8-11. It seems that in preparing a lesson for something like this, it always seems to end up being more for oneself than for anyone else. I feel like I was edified and learned more than anyone else in the class.
These chapters talk about the destruction that occurred in the Americas after the death of Jesus Christ – the terrible storms, lightning, thunder, earthquakes, and the thick darkness that followed. The more wicked part of the people were destroyed. I was touched by the Lord’s invitation to the people that were spared to repent and come unto him. He descended out of heaven and showed himself – in his perfected, resurrected form – to the people, and taught them his doctrine: faith, repentance, baptism, and the receipt of the Holy Ghost. His whole message was one of love for the people, and his never ending mercy towards them, inviting them to come unto him and be saved.
This is the same invitation that he offers to you and me today. He does not want any of us to perish. He does not want anyone to lose their eternal inheritance. He is willing to forgive us all if we come unto to him and repent. I can be spiritually healed if I repent. The choice must be ours – this must be done willingly.
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28 – 30)
He can make my burden light if I allow him into my heart, if I take the steps to repent of my sins. I can find the peace that only the Spirit can give and so can everyone. This is the message that Jesus Christ wants us to give to the world – a message of hope and of joy.
This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, Without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, Traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God… ( 2 Timothy 3:1 – 4)
Every day the fulfillment of this prophecy becomes more and more apparent. The world today is a scary place, with all these evils all around us, even infiltrating our families. What can we do to fight this tide of evil, this wave of wickedness? One of the answers is found in the same chapter:
But continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them; And that from a child thou hast known the holy scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus. All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: That the man of God may be perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works. (2 Timothy 3:14 – 17)
As I consider the implications of these scriptures I am reminded of how imperfect I am in my attempts to implement daily personal scripture study. I tend to do all right for a while, then slack off. I need to be more steady in my efforts with both daily scripture study as well as with personal prayers. These are the basics by which we put on the armour of God. “Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.” (Ephesians 6:13)
When I fail to take the simple steps of personal scripture study and personal prayer, I leave myself vulnerable to the temptations of Satan. And he is not stupid – he is astute in his attacks. He knows our weaknesses – he knows my weaknesses. I pray that the Lord will strengthen me in my daily battles with this enemy, that I may come off conqueror and draw nearer to God. The words of the hymn become my prayer:
“O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let that grace now like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.”
I am so grateful this day for Heavenly Father’s mercy and grace. I am so grateful for Jesus’ love and mercy too. I am grateful that I can repent of my sins. I know that I am so far from perfect, but I am trying. I am just grateful to know that the Lord loves us all so much and wants us all to return to him. I am grateful for my family and the gospel of Jesus Christ on this Sabbath day.
May we all follow the example of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I know that he is my Savior.
He has been serving in the role of senior class president and has participated in theater. He’s a responsible young man.
I just can’t believe my little girl is eight years old. She is a sweet, thoughtful and considerate girl that is growing up too fast.
How did this happen? Where did the time go? I love my family and feel extremely grateful to Heavenly Father for this wonderful blessing in my life!
