"If we looked at mortality as the whole of existence, then pain, sorrow, failure, and short life would be calamity. But if we look upon life as an eternal thing stretching far into the premortal past and on into the eternal post-death future, then all happenings may be put in proper perspective.

Is there not wisdom in his giving us trials that we might rise above them, responsibilities that we might achieve, work to harden our muscles, sorrows to try our souls? Are we not exposed to temptations to test our strength, sickness that we might learn patience, death that we might be immortalized and glorified?

If all the sick for whom we pray were healed, if all the righteous were protected and the wicked destroyed, the whole program of the Father would be annulled and the basic principle of the gospel, free agency, would be ended. No man would have to live by faith." -Spencer W. Kimball

August 31?

As in the end of August?

Wait a minute.

Didn’t I just plant my annuals?

Wasn’t it just the longest day of the year?

Didn’t I just blog about fireworks on the Fourth of July?

But what else did I do?

Ever since I moved to Utah, I vowed I would live in the present—be present to all around me. But, considering how quickly time flies, and not seeing much to show for its passing, I’m wondering if I might be flittering away my life, not filling my moments with memories as I should.

I used to have a tagline with my emails:

“What I do today is important

because I am paying a day of my life for it.

What I accomplish must be worthwhile

because the price is high.”

Author Unknown

I think Author Unknown is one of the most profound human beings that ever lived. This person has made me realize that minutes and seconds are precious. Instead of spending time watching television, how about a meaningful conversation with someone? A book in hand is worth more than two video games. Pen a thank-you note, rather than an email.

I have to re-commit to make each day meaningful in some way. What must I do before I lay my head on my pillow that will help me feel fulfilled?

Family, friends, writing, art, music, reading, giving service, playing with our kids, appreciating nature.

What is important to you?

What is worth paying a day of your life for?

A Roaring Lion Rebukes

Art From the Art Studio of Rose Datoc Dall

 

Written by Apostle Parley P. Pratt, a close friend of the Prophet Joseph Smith.

"In one of those tedious nights [in Richmond Jail] we had lain as if in sleep, till the hour of midnight has passed, and our ears and hearts had been pained, while we had listened for hours to the obscene jests, the horrid oaths, the dreadful blasphemies, and filthy language of our guards, Col. Price at their head, as they recounted to each other their deeds of rapine, murder, robbery, etc., which they had committed among the “Mormons,” while at Far West, and vicinity. They even boasted of defiling by force, wives, daughters, and virgins, and of shooting or dashing out the brains of men, women, and children.

 I had listened till I became so disgusted, shocked, horrified, and so filled with the spirit of indignant justice, that I could scarcely refrain from rising upon my feet and rebuking the guards, but had said nothing to Joseph, or any one else, although I lay next to him and knew he was awake. On a sudden he arose to his feet, and spoke in a voice of thunder, or as the roaring lion, uttering, as near as I can recollect, the following words:

“'SILENCE—Ye fiends of the infernal pit. In the name of Jesus Christ I rebuke you, and command you to be still; I will not live another minute, and hear such language. Cease such talk, or you or I die THIS MINUTE.'”

"He ceased to speak. He stood erect in terrible majesty. Chained, and without a weapon,–calm, unruffled and dignified as an angel, he looked down upon the quailing guards, whose weapons were lowed or dropped to the ground; whose knees smote together, and who, shrinking into a corner, or crouching at his feet, begged his pardon, and remained quiet till a change of guards.

"I have seen the ministers of justice, clothed in magisterial robes, and criminals arraigned before them, while life was suspended upon a breath, in the courts of England; I have witnessed a Congress in solemn session to give laws to nations; I have tried to conceive of kings, of royal courts, of thrones, and crowns; and of emperors assembled to decide the fate of kingdoms, but dignity and majesty have I seen but once, as it stood in chains at midnight, in a dungeon, in an obscure village of Missouri."

Shared from the "Joseph Smith, the Prophet" Facebook page.

Studying the Scriptures

By Susan Knight

I have been watching BYU TV on Sundays at 1:00 p.m. The show has four professors of ancient scripture talk about the scriptures. Right now the lessons are on Revelation. I am enjoying this immensely.

I loved studying the Epistles of Peter. You can see how much he's grown in testimony and spiritually by reading these works. He was a young man, like Jesus, when the Savior walked on the earth. He needed to be taught, instructed, have his attitude tempered.

When Peter's epistles were written, maybe around 60 AD, Peter was an older and much wiser man. In his epistles he talks about priesthood and temples. Those who don't know of these things might wonder what he's talking about.

In Revelation, I loved finding out that animals have spirits, just as humans do. For all those who don't think they'll ever see their beloved pets again, the Book of Revelation would quell that thought.

Also, we know John the Beloved was John the Revelator. He wrote these revelations before he even wrote the gospels or his epistles.

Some people take the "book curse" at the end of Revelation to mean that nobody can add or take away from the whole bible. But the bible is composed of books. It's a bibliography of spiritual works. If John wrote Revelation first, then the gospels on should not have been written. John was telling us we should not change his book of revelation.

When I was involved with my calligraphy guild, I learned a lot about book curses. I'm sure they were mimicking the book curse that John put in his writing about his vision. I have a whole book called "Anathema" that deals solely with book curses of the middle ages. I love that book. We even had a contest in the guild for people to come up with their own book curses.

I also know that many prophets--Adam, Moses, Abraham, Enoch, Nephi, Lehi and others--had the same vision John did. They were told not to write about it, that there would be someone whose task it was to write about it only. So nobody did. John was the one who was supposed to write it. Joseph Smith had the same visions as John in the Book of Revelation. Joseph Smith said it was one of the easiest books to comprehend--yeah, because he had the same vision, so I guess he would be able to decipher what it means.

Also, in the Doctrine and Covenants, more about the Book of Revelation is revealed.

I am so grateful to my Heavenly Father for all I have. I am a broken record at night and in the morning. Sometimes I apologize to Him. "Sorry for saying the same things every day." Thank you for my house, my safety, my children, my job--in so many words. Then the pleadings to protect us all from predators and harm; and the "pleases" for help and health and happiness.

I am reminded, in my Patriarchal Blessing, that I am to never cease thanking my H.F. in my prayers for all of my blessings. Once I read, and re-read, this particular paragraph, I feel better about that broken record syndrome.

I had a lovely holiday today. Thank you, Lord, for watching over my children--and me. Please continue to grant us Thy tender mercies.

General Conference 10/6 and 10/7/12

Feed my sheep; feed my lambs

I can't believe another General Conference has come and gone and I have not written one spiritual thought since the last one.
This past conference, last weekend, was as uplifting as ever.
One thing that stood out to me was that the story of Peter, the fisherman, was given twice. I know the men have no idea what the others are writing about, so what are the odds that two men would dwell on the same passage in scripture?
Nevertheless, I was enlightened--twice. Peter and the other apostles went back to their former lives after Jesus was crucified and resurrected. Did they think that the last three years of their lives was all there was?
Jesus, calling them "children," told them to cast their nets over the other side and they would be filled. Were they children? I guess so. They needed the constant reminder to "do what I say." They needed to be reminded that they had a great work to do.
"And when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren. . . " Did the Lord think Peter still wasn't converted? Well, he did deny him three times.
Peter was told to uplift and teach the others, as well as all the sheep--the followers of Christ--and the lambs; those that are young or new in the gospel.
This story is a reminder to me that, once converted, we should not go back to our life before we had the Savior in it. We need to move forward.
Peter didn't realize his life had been changed forever. Did he really not see that?
Do you? Do I?

General Conference

This morning when I woke up, I prayed that the prophet and general authorities would give talks that I needed to hear. Not only that, but I prayed that, if they did, I would hear them.
It was funny to hear Elder Uchtdorf start out by telling about a letter he received from a sister who asked him to talk about something specific. Are we allowed to do that?! I'll have to try it.
However, his talk hit home with me. Let those that have ears to hear...
I just love Elder Nelson. He is one of my favorites. I love how he talked about the body and all its organs and parts. It really made me realizee how my life--my body--is a miracle. I am thankful for all my working parts.

And our prophet, Thomas S. Monson, is just so precious to me. I love his stories and that he does all the gestures. I caught his eye at one point and he seemed to be peering directly into my soul. I have choices I can make that will steer my life.
I am grateful for all the talks that were given. I wish we could have General Conference every week...or at least every month. I so look forward to it.
And when the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sang, "Oh, Thou Fount of Every Blessing," my absolute favorite hymn, tears couldn't be restrained from falling down my cheeks. I was so moved.
I look forward to the last session in a few hours.
I know I will be uplifted. I will also be sad to see it end.

Be Thankful

"And he who receiveth all things with thankfulness shall be made glorious; and the things of this earth shall be added unto him, even an hundred fold, yea, more."  ~Doctrine & Covenants 78:19

"Do we remember to give thanks for the blessings we receive?  Sincerely giving thanks not only helps us recognize our blessings, but it also unlocks the doors of heaven and helps us feel God's love"  (Teachings of Thomas S. Monson, p. 126). ~Thomas S. Monson

 

Where Were You September 11, 2001?

Since I am home nursing a sprained ankled, I have been watching all the special shows about 9/11. Some of them I have not seen before. All have been very inspirational--but sad.
I remember I was getting ready for work that morning. I never watched the "Today" show, but Matt Lauer was interviewing someone and I thought he was being very curt or rude to his guest (I don't recall who it was). It was about 8:50 a.m. and I had my toothbrush in my mouth as I was watching.
All of a sudden he said he just got word that a plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers. I thought it was a little plane, like a Piper Cub type, some sort of joy riding pilot who was maybe drunk or had a heart attack...my mind raced on making excuses as to why that might happen.
I watched for a few minutes, then turned the TV off and got myself out the door. As I was driving to the newspaper, I heard that another pilot drove into the other Twin Tower. I thought, "What is this? Some drunken pilot convention?"
When I hit the office, my colleagues were looking for an place of business nearby with a TV set. The chiropractor, two doors down, had one. Some of the other reporters raced over to see what was going on. I stayed at my desk and listened to my headphones. I was tuned into one of the local talk shows that was preempted by what was now being called an attack. There were many theories being tossed around. I kept wondering, what happened on September 11th in the past? Was this an anniversary of some kind?
I decided I didn't want to see any of the footage, being the empath that I am. I figured I wouldn't be able to do my job if I was picturing the whole escapade in my mind. The radio was doing a fabulous job already of filling my mind with images I didn't want to see.
By the time I got home for the day I told the kids nobody was to turn on the TV. So we didn't see any of the images.
That didn't stop Timmy from imagining the worse.
The next day he refused to go to school and threw the biggest temper tantrum I'd ever seen. He finally said, through angry grunts and grimaces, body throwing and pounding arms and legs on the floor, that he was afraid to go to school; that it might be bombed.
I tried to console him by telling him that Perkasie was a very safe place and would be the last place a bomb would come, and Guth Elementary School was not a target either. We were very safe.
Nevertheless, he refused to budge and would not go to school.
So, I let him stay home--a mental health day. He certainly needed it. I spent most of the day checking up on him. He was very quiet and contemplative.
He kept refusing to go to school and it got so bad the school recommended I take him to Penn Foundation, so I called them and made an appointment with a social worker who was very good for him. She had him draw a picture of his fear. He drew a high tower (only one) that was on fire and there was a fire engine at the bottom trying to put out the fire.
The social worker told me he was very concerned about the little children who lost their parents. She said she had never seen that much compassion in a 10-year-old before, that he was worried about other people, other children.
So she advised me that we should immerse ourselves into some 9/11 service. Many had popped up in a short period of time. As it happens, when we got back to school that day, a service project was taking place. If you donated $1, you could write your name on, something, a flag maybe, and it would go on the wall until the whole cafeteria was covered. The money would be sent to some 9/11 service foundation for children in NYC.
I believe that helped tremendously. The social worker had him draw pictures to send to children in Manhattan, where she was going to be of some help to children working through the trauma. He liked that idea, too.
It's funny that he never saw an image in our home. We didn't watch any of the many films, news coverage, documentaries--I was afraid it would be too graphic for the children. I guess imagination plays a big part in how you deal with tragedy.
Believe it or not, there was a family in Souderton who lost a son. He was a chef at the Top of the World cafe, or whatever it was called, on the top floor of one of the towers. I was given the daunting task of interviewing the man's parents. I was flustered. I didn't know what to do or how to act. I could only let them speak. Everyone was hurting. Later, it seemed, everyone knew someone who knew someone, like six degrees of separation.
And I knew several who had birthdays on September 11th. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have that as a birthday, until on March 11th, my birthday, the tragedy was dredged up again on the six month anniversary. I felt horrible inside. And my horror would only be half as horrid as someone born on September 11th who would have to live through this every year. I was sure they wouldn't single out March 11th again--and they never did.
And so, here we are, 10 years later. What have we learned? What has been accomplished?
I have learned that terrorism is of the adversary. Those who would blame God for what happened are past the mark. I remember reading about all the people who missed being at the towers because their alarms didn't go off, they missed the train or subway, they had a dentist appointment, and so on. That was Providence. He saved many lives. And all the heroes, living angels who sacrificed their own lives so others could make it out alive, were Providential, too. No greater is one who gives his/her life for a fellow being. There were many of them and they are in the spirit world now and we don't even know what they did. Their glory is complete.
I pray--really hard--we don't ever have to go through that again. I pray that Providence will again work overtime to quell those who wish harm on their fellow humans, their brothers and sisters--all of us children of a divine Father.
Please, Father, comfort those who lost loved ones during that tragic attack. Protect those who are fighting to combat the adversary in other lands right now, that love, kindness and Your Way will win out.
Please, Father, let us all live as we did on 9/12, in a scenario of loving brotherhood and God Bless America.

SCRIPTURE OF THE DAY: Matthew 7:21

"Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven."

This is one of my favorite scriptures because it teaches me so much in one sentence.
I have often thought about those who think all they have to do to go to heaven is to just say they believe in Jesus, then go back to the status quo of their lives.  This scripture makes it clear to me
that the verb "doeth" is the key to entering into the kingdom of heaven.
It doesn't matter what you say; it's what you DO.