Has It Really Been That Long?

Ever had a moment when a sudden insight sneaks up and smacks you upside the back of the head?  I don't know why this hasn't dawned on me before now, but I recently realized that 30 years has passed since I graduated from high school. J  Yikes!  How did that happen and where did the time go?  I'm working on a hypothesis--perhaps scientific; but probably not--that a specific moment happens in the life of a person when a bending of the space/time continuum occurs and their life begins to zip along at a higher rate of speed.  My problem is I haven't identified the precise moment when this worm hole opens and sucks us into the vortex.  I've narrowed the catalyst down to either marriage or having children (my money is on children), but I haven't nailed down the actual culprit.  All I know for sure is that at some point my life powered up to warp 1 and Scottie has been increasing the speed ever since.

My situation is somewhat unique, however.  I know I'm not the only person to experience this type of high school situation, but my family moved to the small Wyoming town of Cokeville at the time I was beginning junior high (Dad become the history department J).  While my class was never huge by Cokeville standards, by graduation we were small ... I'm talking using both hands and two toes small (me included)!  The missionaries were over for dinner recently and, between the four of them, they were trying to determine the number of people each of them knew from their respective graduating class.  After listening to this conversation for a few minutes, I said, "I knew everyone in my graduating class."  That was a show stopper. J  Living in a small town was not as idyllic as John Cougar Mellencamp made it out to be in his song (not that I was ever a huge fan of his).  Nevertheless, being a member of an 85 (plus or minus) person student body gave me opportunities I wouldn't have had otherwise (I've taken a few pictures of my yearbook pictures as evidence of my exploits). J

For example, I played on the football team.  This fact has a way of catching people off guard when I mention it.  "You?" they ask as they reassess my ... physical attributes, and I nod affirmatively.  "Tight end and defensive end," I say.  In fact, my senior year our team won the first ever Class A football state championship game (Cokeville has won multiple titles since then).  I was by no means brilliant.  The one time Coach Dayton gave me a chance to catch a touchdown pass, I screwed up my route spectacularly (I was so discombobulated over the fact that I knew the ball would be coming my way and he yelled at me on the sidelines afterward--not the first time). J  My most memorable moments came from my senior year: 1) playing away at Pinedale (their homecoming game) and my defensive line-mate, Kevin Diamond was injured (nothing severe; wind knocked out or something like that), so my brother Aaron, a freshman, was sent into the game to replace him.  We were ahead 21 to 14 in the waning minutes of the 4th quarter.  Pinedale was driving--they had just passed midfield and entered our side of the field; they had 3rd down and maybe 2 yards to go for a first down.  Sensing possible weakness, their coaches called a running play at Aaron and me--we stuffed them!  They went for it on 4th down and attempted another running play at the two of us again--we stoned them a second time!  The bus ride home that night was great!  I remember it every time I hear the Eagles song "Heartache Tonight." 2) During the championship game against Midway, I a) knocked a guy on his can with a block in the first half (first time I'd done something like that--the video confirmed it J), and b) recorded my first quarterback sack in the 2nd half.  That game was my best ever; definitely a great way to end my football "career."

I also played on the basketball team.  Admittedly, I was a much better basketball player, but it's still questionable whether I would have played if I had been in a larger high school.  I had moments of brilliance and of brainlock.  I think I was a bit of a streak shooter.  One game I'd score double digits (my high was 24), and the next I'd be lucky if I made a basket, but I'd try to contribute as best as I could.  My most memorable game was as a junior against North Gem, Idaho.  On a fast break, I got undercut by the defender as I jumped to shoot the lay-up (think Kurt Rambis and Kevin McHale).  I might have blacked out for a moment.  I remember the coaches huddled around me; my first question was, "Did I make the shot?"  I had, and I made the free-throw.  Later in the last minute or so of the 4th quarter, I played a hunch and stole a pass from the opponent's point guard; we won the game by 4 points.  My senior year, I remember fouling out of the consolation regional game against Bow-Basin.  I had to watch helplessly from the bench as Kenny Petersen launched what would have been the game winning shot right in front of me--oh, it looked so good, but it hit the rim and bounced away to the left.  No state tournament that year.  My best shot came not in a high school game, but during an Elder's quorum tournament held in April my senior year--I was eligible to play.  An NBA 3-point line was marked off in the gym for the tournament and I won a game for my team (the only game we won) on a last second 3 from the left side of the top of the circle--nothing but net!

For three years I was involved in the yearly musical production.  My senior year, we played The Music Man.  I actually got up the nerve to try out for the role of Professor Harold Hill; I was given the role of Mayor George Shinn instead. J The role was against type--at least, against my high school persona.  Mayor Shinn was bombastic; I was considered shy and quiet.  I threw myself into the role.  I worked hard on my lines, my timing, and my presence on the stage.  While practicing with the other actors, I came up with actions to do during scenes (like throwing Harold Hill's pencil to the stage when I realized he was tricking me into signing a non-existent son for a band instrument--during the matinee, the erasure struck the stage sending the pencil bouncing into the front row of the audience).  My best line was in response to my "wife" when she was attempting to calm me down.  The mayor mixed up his words on occasion.  For this line, he meant "peep," but the line was written: "Not one poop out of you, Madam!"  I punched that word each time and got the audience to laugh.  I read several years later that the writer of the play, Meredith Willson, felt that the mayor should played somewhat understated--earnest, but not so over the top to turn into a caricature.  I never felt my performance made Mayor Shinn a parody, but it was so unlike me that several people didn't recognize me. J

My senior year, I was the editor of a revival of the school newspaper.  As I recall, I wrote the sports section and contributed other columns also.  I also designed the newspaper's header.  My 8th grade year, I won a design contest for that year's year book cover.  My senior year, I was on the year book staff and I designed the cover again--it was the 50th anniversary issue, so I kept the design simple, but it was me who formulated it, drew it and chose the font style.  All of these experiences and more (lip syncing "Elvira" in front of the entire school, for instance) made my high school experience so much richer.  When I think of these opportunities, I am grateful we lived in Cokeville during this time of my life.  With my personality, I could have easily been swallowed up in a larger school and spit out four years later with not much to show for the time spent.  As it was, I had a tendency to blend into the background even in a student body of 85 (I'm not complaining, I chose to do it).  With all the opportunities afforded to me, however, I was also able to stay involved in the things I wanted to involve myself in without being pushed aside because I wasn't talented enough.  For these reasons, I'm grateful to be an alumnus of Cokeville High School.

An Endurance Lesson from Ben

In March I chronicled a lesson Isaac taught me during one of his basketball games.  Now I feel inspired, compelled (I'm not sure how to define it), to describe a lesson I am learning from Ben.  I mentioned a couple of months ago that we now know that Ben has an underlying physical ailment that goes beyond the injury to his back.  The hyper-mobility syndrome he has been diagnosed with is the real problem (the back injury seemed to push it to the forefront).  As soon as we finally knew what the problem was, however, it was as if Ben's body said, in effect, "Now that you know, I'm going to give you a demonstration of what this syndrome is all about!"  In rapid succession, several of Ben's joints (knee, jaw, wrist, and ankle) were attacked by a manifestation of the syndrome.  I don't know how else to describe it other than to say those joints have now become more elastic, making them more mobile, which causes him a great deal of pain.  Movements Ben used to make with ease have now become difficult.  For example, if he tries to use his effected wrist for leverage (like pushing off a couch to stand up), that wrist won't remain firm but will buckle beneath his weight and cause him pain.  Jennifer and I have watched helplessly as things we used to take for granted with him have now become hard for him to accomplish.

Now that you have this background, I will mention that as a priest in the Aaronic Priesthood, Ben has the opportunity to officiate at the sacrament table each week.  As part of his priesthood duties, his particular office allows him to break the bread and partake in saying one of the sacrament prayers each week.  His quorum, at the moment, consists of two young men (including himself) and two recent converts who have been ordained to the Aaronic priesthood.  In order to have three people at the table to help in the breaking of the bread, he has taken to asking me to join him.

 

Not long after his back became a problem, he quickly found that standing and bending to break the bread in preparation for the sacrament was not something he could easily do any longer.  At first, Ben declined participating because of the pain he experienced.  Then our former bishop, who was serving as a counselor in the young men's presidency, came to me and said there was no statements in the general handbook stating that a priest had to stand in order to break the bread.  If something could be found that would allow Ben to sit in front of the sacrament table and break the bread, this would be completely acceptable.  A solution quickly presented itself when we were able to borrow a walker with wheels from a family in our ward.  Ben would transfer himself into the seat of the walker and maneuver the walker in front of the table to accomplish his task.  While this solution helped, it still caused some discomfort because Ben had to turn the walker to the side in order to be close to the trays which caused his left side to be closest to the table.  He is dominantly right handed and would have to reach across his body in order to break the bread, which still caused pain.

 

After several months of this arrangement, the hyper-mobility syndrome began to manifest itself in the ways I described above.  When Ben's left ankle began giving him problems, it became more difficult to use his feet to turn the walker toward the sacrament table.  Not long afterward, a second solution was offered--another member brought a folding stool from home for Ben to use.  This new solution allowed him to face the table and break the bread and hand the trays to the deacons and teachers more naturally.  Now, his left wrist is acting up which is making breaking the bread more difficult with that hand.

The lesson Ben is teaching me is this: today, as we were breaking the bread, I could tell he was struggling a bit more than the last few weeks.  He was groaning a bit as he worked to complete his assigned trays.  I glanced over at him and asked if he was okay.  He shook his head quickly, but continued on with his work.  After he had said the prayer over the bread and we had returned to the regular seats in front of the sacrament table, Ben leaned over to me and whispered, "It's a process, but we got it done."  The time it takes for Ben to accomplish a specific task may be longer than it was before, but Ben is teaching me that if the task is worthwhile, the length of time doesn't matter as long as the task is properly accomplished.  Also, Ben is teaching me (reminding me) the necessity of endurance.  Nephi taught of the importance of baptism, but also said that baptism was "the gate" allowing entrance to the strait and narrow path not "the end" of the journey.  He said, "after ye have gotten into this strait and narrow path, I would ask if all is done? Behold, I say unto you, Nay" (2 Nephi 31:19).  Nephi continues, "Wherefore, if ye shall press forward, feasting upon the word of Christ, and endure to the end, behold, thus saith the Father: Ye shall have eternal life" (2 Nephi 31:20).

The archaic definition of the word strait is defined by the Merriam-Webster website as "strict, rigorous, and narrow" (see this link).  In this context, I am inclined to consider a mountain hiking path.  The path has twists and turns, rough places and smooth, well defined areas and those that aren't, steep inclines and quick descents.  Sometimes it's difficult to stay on the path; sometimes it's hard not to want to turn around and return to familiar surroundings; but the destination is always worth the trip.  When reaching the next ridge and finding several more ridges to navigate, it may be hard not to wonder if the journey is worth the effort.  In a conference address in the April 2012 conference, President Henry B. Eyring said, "Many of you are now passing through physical, mental, and emotional trials that could cause you to cry out as did one great and faithful servant of God I knew well. His nurse heard him exclaim from his bed of pain, 'When I have tried all my life to be good, why has this happened to me?'"  President Eyring then reminded us "You and I have faith that the way to rise through and above trials is to believe that there is a 'balm in Gilead' and that the Lord has promised, 'I will not … forsake thee.' That is what President Thomas S. Monson has taught us to help us and those we serve in what seem lonely and overwhelming trials.  But President Monson has also wisely taught that a foundation of faith in the reality of those promises takes time to build" (Ensign, May 2012, 23).

"It's a process," Ben said to me.  This life is "a process" as well.  Father in Heaven has had moments when He was blessed me with help, but has also allowed me to struggle.  As difficult as it may be for me to watch him go through this "process" at times, I am beginning to believe I will be better for it as I try to help Ben where I can and let him struggle at other times in order to strengthen his faith--and mine.  I am grateful for my sons and the things they teach me. :)

An Additional Thought (Lessons 13 & 14 Post)

As the title of this post indicates, I have an additional thought about my lesson post from chapters 13 & 14, but first, some context.

During the last two conferences I have become aware of a group who is advocating priesthood ordination for women.  According to what I've read (this article being just one),  at this last conference the group marched to the Tabernacle on Temple Square, despite being asked not to by church officials, asked to be seated in the priesthood session, and staged a protest when denied.  Also, once turned away, it appears they immediately run to the news media to bring more attention to their "plight" (whatever they perceive it to be).

 

Social media seems to have become the court of quick and definitive opinion.  Once something (a quote, a video, a blog post) goes "viral" people seem to immediately go from 0 to 60 in a matter of seconds to make their opinion known on the said subject (the Deseret News article I linked to has 151 comments).  Since I'm not social media savvy and read a limited amount of other blogs, I've only come across one post reacting to this group.  I found it quite compelling.  As for myself, I pound out this little blog of mine in basic anonymity (which is just fine with me) and don't purport to have any "earth shattering" remarks to add to what is probably a feeding frenzy on the Internet somewhere.  As I stated in an earlier post, I'm "just a guy trying to live the commandments of Christ to the best of my knowledge and ability."

Having said the above as an introductory backdrop, as I wrote the previous post, I found myself interested in two statements made in General Conference in October 2013 and April 2014, and two made at earlier times (25 and 13 years ago respectively).  They didn't seem to work with the basic information I discussed, but I couldn't stop thinking about them, so I am writing this addendum.  First, from Elder Neil L. Anderson:

"We sometimes overly associate the power of the priesthood with men in the Church. The priesthood is the power and authority of God given for the salvation and blessing of all—men, women, and children.

 "A man may open the drapes so the warm sunlight comes into the room, but the man does not own the sun or the light or the warmth it brings. The blessings of the priesthood are infinitely greater than the one who is asked to administer the gift" (Ensign, Nov. 2013, 92, emphasis added).

The next quote was spoken by Elder Dallin H. Oaks in the priesthood session of this most recent conference:

"We are not accustomed to speaking of women having the authority of the priesthood in their Church callings, but what other authority can it be? When a woman—young or old—is set apart to preach the gospel as a full-time missionary, she is given priesthood authority to perform a priesthood function. The same is true when a woman is set apart to function as an officer or teacher in a Church organization under the direction of one who holds the keys of the priesthood. Whoever functions in an office or calling received from one who holds priesthood keys exercises priesthood authority in performing her or his assigned duties.

"Whoever exercises priesthood authority should forget about their rights and concentrate on their responsibilities. That is a principle needed in society at large. The famous Russian writer Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn is quoted as saying, 'It is time … to defend not so much human rights as human obligations.'  Latter-day Saints surely recognize that qualifying for exaltation is not a matter of asserting rights but a matter of fulfilling responsibilities" (Ensign, May 2014, 51, emphasis added).

Both of these quotes shed greater light on the power and authority Father in Heaven has granted to His sons.  In terms of precedence, the priesthood "was confirmed to be handed down from father to son, and rightly belongs to the literal descendants of the chosen seed, to whom the promises were made" (D&C 107:40).  Even so, according to these two Apostles, the blessings of the priesthood are far greater than the one administering those blessings and anyone, regardless of gender, exercises priesthood authority when performing their assigned callings.

 

Based on this understanding, what am I to make of this group?  Their leader is quoted in the Deseret News article I linked to above as stating: "I have no right to remain silent because I love this church" in response to the plea from the church to not take her group's protest to Temple Square.  In fact, two other women quoted in the article seem to go out of their way to make sure they are on the record about the fact that they "love" the church.  Honestly, I find this quote to be disingenuous.  They say they "love the church" (as if that somehow mitigates what they are doing), but feel compelled to speak out on a perceived "equality problem" where none exists (speaking of the church and its doctrine as a whole).  Fomenting contention and dissension is made to appear noble when it is not.

While no one has said it specifically (although it appears to be implied), one criticism of the brethren I have heard more than once is that they are "out of touch" with the world around them.  Because they are 60 to 90 years of age, the "logic" goes, we can't expect them to be "in sync" with the worldly trends.  I find this view to be myopic.  The Lord does not call these brothers (or the sisters of the auxiliaries) because they have lived their lives in a box.  When I think about the professional things they accomplished previous to their calls and the people they have met and the places they have traveled and the opportunities to learn the workings of the Spirit over their years of service, "out of touch" is the last thing they could be accused of.  As I read or listen to their talks and learn about the things they are doing, my feeling is that they have a very good idea of what is happening in the world today with its trends and opinions.  I would do myself to terrible disservice to believe that the age of these brethren and sisters somehow disqualifies them from holding the offices they've been called to perform.  Nevertheless, their words are parsed, criticized and haggled over constantly and the work they do is shrugged off by some as meaningless.

Criticism, dissension, protests, none of this is new, unfortunately.  In doing some research for another lesson, I came across this quote given in October of 1989 from then Elder Boyd K. Packer which fits with the current situation:

"There are those within the Church who are disturbed when changes are made with which they disagree or when changes they propose are not made. They point to these as evidence that the leaders are not inspired.

"They write and speak to convince others that the doctrines and decisions of the Brethren are not given through inspiration.

"Two things characterize them: they are always irritated by the word obedience, and always they question revelation. It has always been so. Helaman described those who 'began to disbelieve in the spirit of prophecy and in the spirit of revelation; and the judgments of God did stare them in the face' (Hel. 4:23) 'They were left in their own strength' (Hel. 4:13), and 'the Spirit of the Lord did no more preserve them; yea, it had withdrawn from them' (Hel. 4:24)"   (Ensign, Nov. 1989, 33 , emphasis added).

Each six months during conference I am given the opportunity to sustain President Monson and his counselors and the members of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles as "prophets, seers, and revelators."  This is not a perfunctory matter, at least, it isn't supposed to be.  When I raise my right arm to the square, I am stating that I support them in their callings as the mouthpieces of the Lord and will do all that I can to follow their teachings (not out of a blind obedience, but with a full exercising of moral agency) because I believe the Savior when He said "whether by mine own voice or by the voice of my servants, it is the same" (D&C 1:38).  If I am going to sustain these brethren (or, at least declare that I "love" the church they have been called by God to lead), how can I then turn around and claim that my dissenting voice is somehow more inspired than they?

My final quote was spoken thirteen years ago in a conference address given by Sheri L. Dew, who at the time (October 2001) was the Second Counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency.  In light of this group and their demands, I find it to be a very prescient statement:

"My young sisters, some will try to persuade you that because you are not ordained to the priesthood you have been shortchanged. They are simply wrong, and they do not understand the gospel of Jesus Christ. The blessings of the priesthood are available to every righteous man and woman. We may all receive the Holy Ghost, obtain personal revelation, and be endowed in the temple, from which we emerge 'armed' with power.  The power of the priesthood heals, protects, and inoculates all of the righteous against the powers of darkness. Most significantly, the fulness of the priesthood contained in the highest ordinances of the house of the Lord can only be received by a man and woman together" (Ensign, Nov. 2001, 13, emphasis added).

I've become convinced that the greatest tool in Satan's bag for this day and age is distraction.  If he can distract us from a proper understanding of the priesthood by fomenting dissension, he will do it.  If he can distract us by arguing moot points on social media sites, he will do it.  If he can distract us by entrenching ourselves in pro or con foxholes and lobbing verbal mustard gas at each other in a spirit of contention, he will do it.  My wife is not diminished because she doesn't have the priesthood conferred upon her, but when I am able to use it in her behalf, we are both strengthened.  At a time when we need to be more unified, it is unfortunate that some decide to become quarrelsome, but as we hurtle toward the Second Coming, this is part of what the Lord meant when He declared that "all things shall be in commotion" (D&C 88:91).  The strait and narrow path is rigorous enough with all its peaks and valleys, switch-backs and straight-aways, uneven, rocky areas and smooth, easy stretches without me building mountains where none existed.

Priesthood (Lessons 13 & 14)

Jennifer taught lesson 13 about the priesthood last week and did a very good job.  I enjoyed hearing her perspective on a topic I've heard plenty of men talk about, but not very many women.  As I sit here in front of the computer trying to focus solely on priesthood organization, however, I'm finding it difficult not to use aspects of lesson 13 while trying to write about lesson 14.  From the title, you can see that I've given up attempting to separate the two lessons.

What is the priesthood?  In a nutshell, it is God's power and authority and it is eternal.  In the Pearl of Great Price, we learn that the priesthood "which was in the beginning, shall be in the end of the world also" (Moses 6:7).  Our Father in Heaven accomplishes His work by the priesthood and He has restored the privilege of using that authority to His sons on the earth.  Describing this restored authority, President Joseph F. Smith declared that the priesthood is "nothing more nor less than the power of God delegated to man by which man can act in the earth for the salvation of the human family . . . and act legitimately" (Gospel Doctrine, 5th ed. [1939], 139–40).  The Aaronic Priesthood was restored to the earth by John the Baptist to Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery on May 15, 1829.  Elder L. Tom Perry declared that on the "glorious day when the priesthood was restored to the earth” men were again given “the right to . . . act as God’s agents as they performed the sacred priesthood ordinances" (Ensign, Nov. 2010, 91, emphasis added).  An agent is defined by Webster’s Dictionary as "someone who represents a person."  In this case, the person being represented is Father in Heaven.

The ordinances of the priesthood are what bless our lives as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, for through "the ordinances thereof, the power of godliness is manifest" (D&C 84:20).  Honestly, without the ordinances of the gospel, there would be no reason for a church to be organized, for it is the church that is the vehicle through which we receive those ordinances.  God's house "is a house of order" (D&C 132:8), and He has ordained that an organization is in place, properly powered by the priesthood, to authorize and record the ordinances received by His children.

This is why I compare the priesthood to gasoline.  Usually in the setting of the temple preparation classes, I've asked brothers and sisters to tell me what they would consider to be their dream car.  The answers I've received over the years have ranged from "I don't have one" to the practical to the exotic (full disclosure: my dream car is the Corvette Stingray of the early 1970s).  No matter the answer, I ask the person to then imagine their dream car in their garage (for those who don't have one, I ask them to picture their own car).  They get in the car; they put the key in the ignition; they turn the key . . . and realize they don't have any gas in the car!  As great as it would be to possess their dream car, the car cannot function properly without gas in the tank.  They could sit behind the steering wheel and make engine sounds, but they wouldn't be able to leave the garage.  If the Church is the car (the vehicle through which the ordinances are authorized), it wouldn't get out of the garage without the priesthood to power its engine.  Priesthood authority and power allows the Church to offer the saving ordinances of baptism, the gift of the Holy Ghost, temple ordinances and all the other ordinances our Father desires us to obtain.  It also authorizes blessings to be offered in behalf of those who need them.

The priesthood is divided into two parts: the Aaronic and the Melchizedek Priesthood.  The Aaronic (or "lesser")  Priesthood is named after Moses' brother "because it was conferred upon Aaron and his seed" (D&C 107:13).  It is called the "lesser priesthood" because it is an "appendage" to the Melchizedek Priesthood and "has the power in administering outward ordinances" such as baptism and the administration of the sacrament (D&C 107:14).  The offices in the Aaronic Priesthood are deacon, teacher, priest and bishop.

The Melchizedek Priesthood is so named because "Melchizedek was such a great high priest . . . and to avoid the too frequent repetition" of the name of the Supreme Being (D&C 107:2-4).  Those holding the Melchizedek Priesthood administer all the spiritual work of the Church and have the authority to direct and preside over the Church.  Offices in the Melchizedek Priesthood are elder, high priest, patriarch, seventy and Apostle.

When the subject of the Priesthood is discussed, a reoccurring symbol is that of keys.  Physical keys allow the holder to unlock and open certain doors.  However the holder is limited by those keys as well as the key they have may not open every available door.  For example, when I served as the ward clerk, I was given a key that unlocked the front door to the church building.  I also had a key that unlocked the library, the chapel, and the clerk's office.  However, even though this key looked exactly the same as the bishop's, my key would not unlock his office door.  If I needed to enter his office, he needed to give his specific key.  In like manner, Elder Dallin H. Oaks explained that "the function of priesthood keys both enlarges and limits. It enlarges by making it possible for priesthood authority and blessings to be available for all of God’s children. It limits by directing who will be given the authority of the priesthood, who will hold its offices, and how its rights and powers will be conferred . . . . Ultimately, all keys of the priesthood are held by the Lord Jesus Christ, whose priesthood it is. He is the one who determines what keys are delegated to mortals and how those keys will be used" (Ensign, May 2014, 49-50).

That is the priesthood in a nutshell.  There is more I could say specifically about individual aspects of this power and authority and its various offices, but this post would then become longer than my two Star Trek posts combined, so I will refrain :) (perhaps I might write more about these specifics in other individualized posts).  As far as this post is concerned, the last thing I would say is the priesthood is a gift from God, but as President Thomas S. Monson has taught, the priesthood "is not really so much a gift as it is a commission to serve, a privilege to lift, and an opportunity to bless the lives of others" (Ensign, May 2006, 57).  In my mind, the priesthood truly comes to bless the life of the holder when it is properly used in the service of others.  I have been truly blessed to be asked by Jennifer and Ben and Isaac to give them blessings.  There have been constant opportunities to serve not only my family (immediate and extended), but other ward members and neighbors.  I am thankful for the chance to serve and to offer comfort in ways that I probably would not do if not for the priesthood and the responsibility it gives me to serve.


Mom Thoughts

Since it's Mother's Day, I been thinking about my mom (shocking, I know; who'd thunk I'd do such a thing), and for some reason, an incident from my early childhood comes to mind.

I was in kindergarten.  To be old enough to go to school was cool enough, but what made the situation even more awesome was we lived less than a block away from the grade school.  This situation allowed me to walk to the building and back home.  To be old enough to walk to school was a very "big boy" thing.  As far as I know, mom would watch from the window as I crossed the street and joined in with the other kids headed in the same direction.  One morning, moments after stepping onto the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, an older boy on a bike yelled, "Watch out!" as he whipped past me.  I don't remember if he actually hit me, but I do remember he was inches from my face.  Startled, I stepped back, lost my balance and fell on the cement.  I started to cry.  I wasn't physically injured by the near miss, but I was frightened by it and my five-year-old pride may have taken a bit of a hit as well.  The crying wasn't the screaming or tantrum type; it was more along the lines of "I've just had a traumatic experience and I need someone to comfort me and tell me I'm okay!"
 

Several groups of children passed by my pathetic figure during this time, but priest or Levite-like, none of them offered to assist me in my moment of distress.  I don't blame them.  I doubt I would have known what to do with me either, but I wasn't going to stop crying until someone comforted me.  After what seemed like ten minutes but was probably only one, I heard my mom's voice calling out to me.  She has seen me get knocked over and had hurried as quickly as possible to come and help me.  Her voice and words of comfort immediately stopped my sobs.  She checked me for scrapes, bruises or any type of blood, helped me stand up, brushed the dirt off my clothes and sent me on my way toward the school building.  With her help, my fears were calmed, my embarrassment eased and I was able to walk confidently to school.

I don't know if she realizes it, but my mom has helped me do that a lot throughout my life.  I want to take a moment to thank her for all the times she's given me the courage and confidence to move positively toward the various worthwhile destinations in my life.

This thank you note will not be posted on Mother's Day as I struggle to catch up in my writing (every time I think I'm getting close, I fall back), but I was definitely thinking about her on that day, so this post will have that date. :)

"Burning Down the [Bridge]!"

There I go referencing a Talking Heads song with a small alteration.  Hey, any chance I get to sneak in a musical reference is a good thing in my book.  I don't know on what day this post will officially be foisted upon the world at large because, as I've mentioned before, I'm trying to catch myself up on other posts and I'm about a month and half behind as I write this particular post (does this make sense?).  I find myself making decent progress today, however, with some of my "on deck" posts because I'm stuck at home.  Why am I stuck at home?  Well, boys and girls, grab a piece of floor and I'll tell you a story.

 

Once upon a time there was a bridge project at Ranchero Road.  For months, as commuters drove up and down the Cajon Pass they watched the progress of the road widening efforts and other earth moving to prepare for the coming bridge.  Finally, the pylons were created, the iron works were set, and the wooden "false-work" scaffolding was built in preparation for the big day when concrete would be poured and the bridge effort would move forward in earnest.  With about a week to go before the said cement was to be poured, workers were sent into the wooden framework to cut rebar on a very blustery day.  At around 1:30 on the afternoon of May 5th, the workers used cutting torches to slice the offending rebar; the process of cutting iron rebar with the torch caused sparks to fly in all different directions.  Normally, it is pretty cool to watch sparks flare out like a 4th of July sparkler, but this was not an ordinary day, boys and girls, far from it.

 

Apparently, my young friends, these workers forgot that sparks flying in many directions on a day when the wind was blowing at around 20 to 40 miles per hour could end up being blown into the wooden framework of the bridge.  It should really come as no surprise, then, that this did happen.  Although I've heard reports that the worker or workers tried to put out the resulting flames, the gusts of wind blowing up from the pass fanned the fire beyond any hope of stopping it.  Within ten minutes, a roaring inferno engulfed the bridge.  This caused both sides of the freeway to be closed and commuters were sent scrambling to try to find other ways to get around the conflagration; can you spell conflagration (it is a word meaning: "raging fire").  It's too bad someone didn't think of it, but they could have had an amazing hot dog and marshmallow roast.
 

Yes, I'm being cynically facetious, but it's hard not to be annoyed by the fact that I spent 2 to 2 1/2 hours getting home last night and had to spend the day here at home because of the traffic nightmare I didn't want to face today.  On the other hand, I kept myself busy running an errand and doing some laundry while I've worked on prior posts.  According to local news reports traffic should be running on both sides of the freeway by tomorrow morning, so I'll be able to go to back to work.
 

*sigh!*  I doubt I'm the first to make this observation, but the set-up is too good to let pass: If nothing else, I guess this can serve as an actual example of what it means when someone says, "He burned his bridge behind him."
 

Awesome!  I actually think I heard audible groans! :)

A Lesson from the Star Jasmine

The star jasmine is in bloom.  Every day (except when the weather is bad or I don't feel like it), I take a walk for my morning 15 minute break at work.  Most of my route parallels the major road near my building.  Along the sidewalk are two clumps of star jasmine bushes--one on the left side and the other, larger one, roughly 40 yards later on the right side.  I've always like the fragrance of this particular flower.  It's sweet, but subtle--not so overwhelming that I'm sent into olfactory shock (which is why I try to avoid the perfume counters in major department stores).  When I walk past the bushes (especially the second one), the pleasant scent has reminded of my university days and the house I lived in at the time.  A star jasmine bush was planted below my bedroom window.  When the flowers were blossoming, I’d quite often open the window while I studied because the soothing fragrance helped me concentrate as I tried to make sense of Herman Melville or Shakespeare or Charles Dickens or whatever author I happened to studying for my English classes at the time.

 

However, I've noticed something interesting (to me, anyway) as I've gone on my walks over the last week.  If the wind is blowing just right, or a group of passing cars generate a good enough gust, or an 18-wheeler roars by leaving a trail of exhaust, the fragrance of the star jasmine flowers is either blown past me by the wind or overpowered to the point where I cannot smell it even though I'm walking right next to the bushes (and these bushes are thick with flowers).  I haven't been listening to my iPod as I’ve been walking lately, which has given me time to think about this particular phenomena (hey, I heard someone say, "Oh, no!") and I have come to a conclusion or two about what the flowers can teach me.

 

In my "faith into action" Palmyra post from last year's vacation, I mentioned how Jennifer and I had gone on our 2000 visit to the area expecting some massive spiritual blow-out experience telling us in no uncertain terms that the events which happened there were absolutely true!  What came instead was a quiet, peaceful assurance of the testimony we already possessed.  For me, this experience highlights the need to be careful with our revelatory expectations.  Personal revelation can come in a seeming instant if the occasion warrants it.  Elder David A. Bednar taught, "A light turned on in a dark room is like receiving a message from God quickly, completely, and all at once. Many of us have experienced this pattern of revelation as we have been given answers to sincere prayers or been provided with needed direction or protection, according to God’s will and timing. . . . However, this pattern of revelation tends to be more rare than common" (Ensign, May 2011, 88).  If we believe the only way to learn spiritual, gospel truth is through some road to Damascus (see Acts 9:1-9) or angelic appearance (see Mosiah 27:8-17) type of event, we will be constantly disappointed or may question our worthiness and ability to receive revelation from the Lord.  While these episodes in the scriptures serve to demonstrate the dramatic effect of the Spirit on a person, they are unique rather than commonplace.  The Spirit works with us in other, less "remarkable" ways.

 

Alma reminded his son, Helaman, that "by small and simple things are great things brought to pass" (Alma 37:6).  This is one of the things the fragrance of the star jasmine flowers has reminded me.  As I approach the blossoms on the two bushes, I begin to catch the sweet smell of the flowers.  This scent increases steadily until I am finally walking next to the bushes and can enjoy the full "flavor" of the flowers.  Again relating revelation to light, Elder Bednar explained, "The gradual increase of light radiating from the rising sun is like receiving a message from God 'line upon line, precept upon precept' (2 Nephi 28:30). Most frequently, revelation comes in small increments over time and is granted according to our desire, worthiness, and preparation. . . . This pattern of revelation tends to be more common than rare" (ibid, 88).  Just as the perfume of the star jasmine is not powerful and overwhelming, the Spirit is calming, peaceful, comforting and reassuring, distilling "upon [my] soul as the dews from heaven" (D&C 121:45).  Because the scent is delicate, I sometimes have to concentrate to catch a whiff of the fragrance.  Revelation comes to us in much the same way.  On occasion it is given immediately if needed, but mostly we need to put forth our effort first before God rewards us with our desire.

 

Additionally, in order to enjoy the fragrance of the flowers, I have to employ my sense of smell.  To enjoy the blessings of the Spirit, one must also use a sense, but it is not the one that might immediately come to mind.  Nephi teaches that "angels speak by the power of the Holy Ghost" (2 Nephi 32:3).  Understanding this concept, Nephi's words to his brothers when reminding them of the angel they had seen while going back to Jerusalem for the brass plates takes on a new meaning when he tells them that they "could not feel his words (1 Nephi 17:45, emphasis added).  In a 2011 conference talk, President Boyd K. Packer stated, "Some critics have said that these verses are in error because you hear words; you do not feel them. But if you know anything at all about spiritual communication, you know that the best word to describe what takes place is the word feeling" (Ensign, Nov. 2011, 17, emphasis in original).  Feelings or impressions are the main mode of communication I receive when obtaining heavenly communication.  I do not hear words as much as I feel the impression of the words upon me.  It is difficult to explain it in any other way.

 

These feelings or impressions or thoughts can be blocked if we are not careful, however.  In the same manner that the wind generated by cars or nature can make the fragrance of the star jasmine either difficult or impossible to smell, the distractions of the world or negative feelings can impede or completely overpower the Spirit. As Elder Richard G. Scott explained, "The inspiring influence of the Holy Spirit can be overcome or masked by strong emotions, such as anger, hate, passion, fear, or pride. When such influences are present, it is like trying to savor the delicate flavor of a grape while eating a jalapeño pepper. Both flavors are present, but one completely overpowers the other. In like manner, strong emotions overcome the delicate promptings of the Holy Spirit" (Ensign, Nov. 2009, 8).

 

While I'm on the subject of emotion, I will also say it is important to not confuse positive emotion with the Spirit.  Let me explain/clarify my statement: during a Fast and Testimony meeting, several people in a row begin to cry as they are bearing their testimonies.  Then the next person to stand at the podium does not.  The erroneous conclusion: "Brother or Sister X didn't cry, he or she must not be feeling the Spirit."  This would be an mistake.  While it is true that people do become "choked up" with emotion while bearing their testimony (it's happened to me; heck it happens so often to President Eyring that he's learned how to power through his conference talks while crying), the danger comes when we mistake the emotion alone as the influence of the Spirit or the testimony of that individual.  Brother or Sister X may have borne a powerful, spiritual testimony, but we may have missed it because we were focused on the lack of emotion (or, we might "tune out" a person when they do begin to cry).  Perhaps a better explanation of this point was given by Elder Scott in another conference address.  In talking about testimony, which is an outgrowth of obtaining revelation from the Holy Ghost, he said, "A testimony is fortified by spiritual impressions that confirm the validity of a teaching, of a righteous act. Often such guidance is accompanied by powerful emotions that bring tears to the eyes and make it difficult to speak. But a testimony is not emotion. It is the very essence of character woven from threads born of countless correct decisions" (Ensign, Nov. 2010, 45).

 

I am thankful for Heavenly Father's creations.  They are here to remind us of His love for us and He gave them to us "that [we] might have joy" (2 Nephi 2:25).  It's amazing what can be learned from them when putting forth a little time and a bit of effort.  I don't know how long the flowers will remain in bloom, but I will enjoy their fragrance while it lasts.  Hopefully, I will remember their lesson for a much longer time. J