Paul's Admonition to the Philpians

Philippians 4:8

 Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

Lady Gaga
Two and a half Men
Us Weekly
The Hangover
Real Housewives of Everywhere
National Enquirer
Fitty Cent

How is our world doing seeking after the good, the true, the lovely?
Not great.
I need a few adjustments myself.
Maybe I should make New Year's Resolutions now while I'm thinking about it.

Sight-seeing

I was telling someone recently that I was a Red Sox fan and I got the typical look from someone who isn't.  Poor thing!  People who love any other team just don't know what they are missing.  That got me to thinking about how my love for one and only sports team came about.

The first  professional  baseball game I ever saw--maybe the first professional game of any sport, was at Fenway Park.  Spoiled, I know.  What a great introduction to America's pastime.  (Although, I went with an Irish friend and had to explain the play and strategy the entire time.)  I've been hooked ever since.  Hooked my son--sons.  I'm not sure about Lucy, but I think so.

I've been a lot of cool places and seen many awe-inspiring things.  So today,  I decided to make a list.  15 places I've been and 10 I still need to see.  I can dream, right?

1.  The Berlin Wall
Do you call it that even if you aren't right in Berlin?  I saw it out in the country.  It was a fence with barbed wire and raked dirt on either side.  There was a wooden tower we could climb up on.  My parents and I were the only people there.  There was a farmhouse about 100 yards from the fence.  We talked about how awful it would be to live so close and have to look at that reminder everyday that you were that close to freedom, but couldn't have it.  There was a soda can on the tower and I kicked it by accident and the guards came running with their rifles pointed at me.  I'll never forget that feeling.

2.   Niagra Falls
I don't ever think I will get over the shock that they fall into Canada instead of into the U.S.  With my literalness of map reading skills, it seems impossible.  Canada is above New York.

3.  Arlington National Cemetery and Monuments
I love cemeteries so this was overwhelming for me.  My friend Robyn and I decided we could walk to the cemetery from quite a ways away.  We we glad to have a rest as we watched the guard at the tomb of the unknown soldier.  We were there the weekend that the Vietnam Memorial opened.  Watching the familiy members find their loved one's name on the wall was more impressive than the wall itself. 

4.  Holland
The whole small country, from the cheese market in Alkmaar to the china painting in Delft.  From the scenery in Maastricht to the windmills at Kinderdicht.  I loved my summer in Holland.

4.  Valley Forge
Not only are the green rolling hills in that  part of Pennsylvania gorgeous, but Valley Forge is one of those places where you can feel the hallowedness of the place you are standing.  It's the feeling there--the feeling of freedom.

5. Versailles Palace
Many things in France are inspiring:  Notre Dame, the Louvre, etc.  My favorite place was Versailles.  I remember a particular painting on the wall.  I remember the chariot race tracks--on the roof.  I remember the impeccably pruned gardens and statuary.  I remember the bike ride in the countryside around it with my dad.

6.  Autumn Leaves in New England
No matter how many times a person hears how beautiful they are or sees pictures,  there's no way to imagine what autumn leaves are like in New Hampshire.  They are 3-4 times as big as anywhere else I've ever been.  Driving down a country lane and having them all over the road is so peaceful as is watching them drift slowly from the branches down to the ground.

7.  Victoria Harbor Hong Kong
The skyline of all skylines reflected on the "fragrant harbor" which is the translation for Hong Kong.  I especially loved looking at it from the deck of the Star Ferry crossing to the Kowloon side.

9.  Give Kids the World
I can't count how many times I choked up during our week there, thinking about a man who dedicated his life to making a safe and happy place for kids with life-threatening illnesses.  It's not on the list of most people who go to Orlando and isn't open to the public, but serves families who need some time to truly relax.  There's an ice cream shop that's even open for breakfast.  It's all free and everyone there is smiling.  It rivals Disney as the happiest place on earth.

10.  The bombed federal building in Oklahoma City
Some things you see leave impressions for all the wrong reasons.  We passed through OK on our move to New Hampshire just a few days after the bombing.  We didn't know how close we were to the building.   We thought all the boarded up buildings were just a bad part of town,  then we realized.  It was horrible.  I took a photo out the car window with a billboard that said "God bless Oklahoma City in the foreground and the crumbling mess in the background.  We went back years later to see the memorial with the lighted chairs representing all the lives lost.

11.   The view from the crown of the Statue of Liberty
I hear people can't climb that high anymore.  I don't know if that's true, but it was great.  It was also good to learn the history.  The idea that one country would give that kind of gift to another is probably a thing of the past.

12.  Crater Lake
You can't top nature.  The beauty God gave the earth is better than anything man could ever do.  The clear blue water sitting in the bowl formed by a volcano is worth the trip.  Some form of camping definitely has to make my list.  This one was pretty close to  perfect.  Keith reading Harry Potter to us on the deck of a patio boat is a highlight.

13. The Sacred Grove
Each time I read the account of Joseph Smith's first vision I can see the location because I have visited it.  It's beautiful, but not at all what I expected.  I don't know why.  It was simple.  I guess that's fitting.   Palmyra isn't on many vacation must-see lists, but it makes my 15.

14.   17 Mile Drive

Driving the coastline between Monterey and Carmel California is bliss.  The cypress trees that dot the shore aren't found anywhere else in the world except the place they are named after.  The rocky coast and the waves are breathtaking.

15.    Fenway
That's what started the list-making process.  I love the Red Sox.

Honorable Mentions
Graceland
Grand Canyon
The Freedom Trail in Boston
The Alamo
Lantau Island Hong Kong
The Champs Elysee in Paris
Maine
The Golden Gate Bridge
Yosemite National Park

The 10 places I haven't visited yet are:

1.    Seattle with the space needle and Pike's Market
2.    "The Heads"  Mount Rushmore
3.    Phnom Penh
4.    The Emerald Isle of Ireland
5.    The jazz clubs and cemeteries of New Orleans
6.    China's great wall
7.    Gettysburg
8.    Venice, Milan, and Rome Italy
9.    Savannah, Georgia in all it's southern charm
10.  Pyramids in Egypt--but I don't think I could feel safe in that part of the world now.

3 Children

I went to a meeting at school today and we were going around the room with all the parents introducing themselves and saying what part of the school their kids were in.  I was nearly last.  I said,  "I have 2 kids--one in Delta Vista and one in Vita Prep."  I sat down and immediately turned to Lucy and asked her if I said I have 2 kids or if I said I have 2 kids here.  She assured me that I said the latter, but I don't think so. 

One of the teachers came up to hours later and said how heart-breaking it was to hear me say I had 2 kids.  I wonder how many of the teachers and faculty felt the same way.  I would have said it the same way if Ian were in college or out on his own, right?  He's not a student there.  I've been thinking about it all afternoon.  Was it wrong or bad?  Was I disloyal?  Did his former teachers flinch? 

My conclusion is that  it's probably good that I said it the way I did, because if I would have acknowledged my former, but no longer student,  I would've choked up in front of all those people, embarrassed Lucy and for what? 

I have 3 children.  3 great children.  I just don't get to mother 3 children anymore.  Sucks for me!

3, 2, 1, It's Halloween

The countdown to Halloween has been difficult for me this year.  Different than last.  Last year I was determined to not let Ian down by my lack of enthusiasm for his favorite day of the year.  Hoping he could see that all that was ever important to him was still important to me.  I still feel that way to a certain degree, but now I'm forced to wonder--at 17 would Ian still be psyched about Halloween?  Would he have grown out of it?  Can't say.  He's not here.

We considered all the gross or gruesome things we could do at the cemetery to share the holiday with Ian but decided it would not be received well by others.  I won't see Ian in a costume this year so I thought I would post some of the best ones.

Groovy Dude

At Dad's office in Texas

Mad Scientist for the Spook Alley

Biker with a real Harley Davidson Jacket

Elvis--most kindergartners love Elvis right?

This one just makes me sad.  He was soooo ill.

Couch cushion with straps

"Dad did my makeup!"

"Fighter-fighter"

And best of all, the best costume and the best attitude in the world--Napoleon Dynamite!!!

He was so disappointed that his Hispanic friend Jordan wouldn't be Pedro.

Candy Corn

1.  I hope I never have to be in the hospital, ever, in my whole life. 
2.  I hope if I do, someone who loves me sits there all day with me.
3.  I hope if I have a silly request for something as easy as candy corn that somebody gets it for me.
4.  I hope visiting the sick makes up for some of the weaknesses I have.
5.  I hope one more person I visit in the hospital doesn't die.

Ghost Festival

There are things that you encounter in your life that you just aren't able to absorb at the time.  Maybe that's how some people are with strange food or new surroundings.  I don't know.  I love new strange things.  I love interesting viewpoints and differences of opinion.  I remember reading about ethnocentrism before going to Holland to be an exchange student.  That's a good word to learn the meaning of when you are barely a teenager.  It can help you have an open life. 

There's one thing though, one custom that I  came across in Hong Kong that took a while absorb.  And now, 20 years later, I really understand it, almost to the point I could embrace it.  In the fall, coinciding with the full moon and the harvest, there is a religious holiday called the ghost festival. 

It is a day when  Chinese faithful feast, pray and take care of their dead.  That means they buy gifts and necessities and give them to loved ones.  There are elaborate paper houses that stand 3 feet tall. 

There are paper cars and jewelry, as well as full sets of paper clothing. 

The money--hell bank notes are bought by the boxful. 

These items, along with all kinds of food, are burned--turned to ash, so they enter the realm of the dead.  (I guess in a place where most people are cremated, you could believe that it was possible for other things to be able to go to the same place through burning.)  Believers say that they must help their ancestors leave hell by providing for their needs.

It takes time to really wrap your head around the idea.  On it's face it's just a smoky version of our Halloween--ghosts, demons, lots of treats.  But when you really ponder it, it's about the love that needs a place and time to continue.  If I subscribed to it,  I could still buy Ian T-shirts.  I could pick out a car for him and make sure he had plenty of spending money.  I know I'm still his mom and love endures and there are things we have done--like temple work--to ensure him  blessings.  I actually look at this Chinese tradition as a version of the scripture in Hebrews 11:40 

"God having provided some better thing for us, that they without us should not be made perfect."

On a more temporal level though,  I can't cook for Ian or do his laundry and give him dating advice or 9 million other things.  I can see why shopping and cooking and then burning at ghost festival gives Chinese families comfort.

Mae Francis

I have a very good friend.  Her name is Mae.  She is one of the most interesting people I've ever known.  She has been through so much in her life.  I can't think of a single trial a person could go through that she hasn't personally taken on.  I would list them, but somehow that seems to detract from the straight-backed, head-high way that she faced them.  She wouldn't want me to spread her business around.

I've really  missed her the past week--she died last October.  I've been reading The Help and I would love to sit in Mae's living room and discuss it with her.  She was born in the late thirties in the South and would have been around the age of all the characters in it.  I'm sure her mother or grandmother worked in a white family's home.  I remember her stories about it.  I remember her stories of walking to school and seeing the white kids on the bus going the other direction to their school.  I could listen to Mae tell stories for hours.

I miss listening to her--her deep, years of smoking voice.  I miss the wisdom that came through when she told me how to manage an issue with one of my kids.  I miss the laughing.  Give me a wise woman in her sixties or seventies any day.  I wish I had a photo of her already in my computer so I could post it.  I hope she and her sister Iva are laughing and telling stories where they are now.

Gathering

3rd  Nephi Chapter 10

4. . . how oft have I gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and have nourished you.

5 And again, how oft would I have gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, yea, O ye  . . .  that have fallen; yea, how oft would I have gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens, and ye would not.

6 O ye house of Israel whom I have spared, how oft will I gather you as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, if ye will repent and return unto me with full purpose of heart.


These verses are some of the words that Christ spoke from the heavens before He descended in the Americas after his resurrection.  They are so indicative of how we are loved by Him.  He has gathered;  He has tried to gather--but at times was rebuffed;  He will keep gathering.

He doesn't want to lose us.  As I read, there was so much imagery--the lilies, the birds, the sheep,  the house upon a rock,  the pearls covered in the muck of a pig sty.  These are the same things He spoke of  in the Sermon on the Mount.  This was the Sermon on the Mount for this group of people.  I think one reason He used so much imagery is because their are so many who need to see to believe.  After centuries, through these images, we can see what He means--what He meant.  The concepts aren't free-floating.  They are concrete.  The photos of real hens and chicks help me see what He was trying to convey.



I want to be scooped up under His wings.  Again and again.

Faith vs. Fear

I was looking through some photos today and this is one that gave me pause.  I remember this night so clearly.  I have so many regrets about it.  I even wrote a letter to the prophet about it later--years later.

President Hinckley came to Massachusetts to speak at a regional conference.  My parents were in town.   We all thought it would be great to go.  It was quite a drive from our apartment in Derry  and I don't think it was the best weather.

The whole time we were getting ready,  I was thinking about the woman in the New Testament who had been sick for many years and touched the Savior's robe and was healed.  I wished I could think of a way to get close enough to the prophet for him to touch Ian because I knew I had enough faith for it to work.  I kept it to myself though.  I was embarrassed or ashamed to have such a thought.

Maybe if it had just been Ian and me,  I would have tried it.  I didn't want Keith or my parents to think I was a lunatic when I took off at a dead run, plus I didn't want to get stopped by security with suits and earpieces.   

In the 10+ years since that night,  I've never read or heard the story of that brave, faithful woman without crying.  I've never read the verse in the scriptures that talks about not being ashamed for believing without wondering.  Could I have changed Ian's life that night?

I know that blessings are blessings and authority is authority and anyone who worthily holds the priesthood blah, blah, blah.   I was in the same room as the guy who talks to Christ and  didn't take my shot.  Fear really is the enemy of faith.  Could I have changed Ian's life that night?  I can just add that to the thousands of questions that I don't have answers to.

See Him As He Is

I'm so curious about what my personal relationship with the Savior is.  He has so many names;  so many jobs.  I scrolled out something in the car about a month ago and I thought I'd type it out before I lost the scrap of binder paper.

When I meet Him again
Who will I see?

Will He be like my brothers here on earth--
Teasing,
Protecting,
Giving advice?

Will He be like a king with fanfare and robes--
Onlookers gawking,
Bowing,
Seeking his attention?

Will He be like a judge behind a great seat--
Solemn,
Stern,
Doling out justice?

Will He be like a prophet relaying God's word--
Teaching,
Repeating,
To all who will listen?

Will He be like a rescuer with life-saving gear--
Searching,
Strong,
Throwing me a rope as I hang off a cliff?

It shouldn't end here.  I should have an answer.  Poems should have resolution at the end.  But,  I don't know the answer.  I don't know what I will see.  Sometime I can work out the rhythm and make it more sound more poetic, but I can't finish until I actually see Him.

I hope when that happens that I'm ready.  I hope it's a happy meeting.  I hope I recognize Him, in whatever way I see Him.   I hope it's as my big brother and that we have a close relationship, maybe even an inside joke or two.  It makes it easier for me to think of the Savior dying for me when I think about my brothers.   They aren't  perfect.  They don't call or email very often, but I don't doubt that they would die for me if it came to that.  What's the real difference?

I Could Use Some Exercise

I came across a scripture verse this week that I've been thinking about.  It's in Acts, Chapter 24, verse 16.  It's a part of Paul's  testimony to Felix after being captured.  It reads,  "And herein do I exercise myself, to have always a conscience void of offence toward God, and toward men."  I remember underlining it while we were reading as a family.  I was laying down and doing a horrible job.  The word offence is almost completely crossed out because I didn't sit up or use a ruler.  I made quite a lengthy note next to it that night.

"5-22-11  Exercise is a good word to describe the practice it takes to be able to not get offended by things others do to us and also not to see events in our lives as offences by God.  We need to work on it often to be strengthened in this way just like teaching a muscle through exercises."

I haven't been doing too well at that.  In fact, in thinking about all the things  people have done and said to me lately--or not done and said,  maybe I should take some responsibility for my reactions.  If everyone around offends me,  then maybe I'm just too offendable. 

I think maybe I'm like sandpaper.  I'm so rough that everything catches on me.  Things that shouldn't.  Comments that really aren't insensitive or ignorances that can't be helped.   People aren't in my head.  They don't see through my eyes.  They don't know that when I  say I'm fine and quickly change the subject, that I  don't mean it.   They are all fooled into thinking that I'm strong and well-adjusted.  

The problem with being sandpaper is that there will always be things to catch on.  Always.  There will be people complaining about their kids.  There will be talks and lessons on miracles following faith--they do, after all.  There will be many, many things for the rest of my life that can hurt for a second or for a week.  I get to choose that.

I think I'd rather be the thing that got rubbed by  the sandpaper--the smooth, shiny, beautiful thing that is left--the piece of wood with the interesting and unique grain from all it's growth and challenges, even if there are a few knots.

I need to follow my own advice written next to this scripture verse and start exercising my 'don't get offended' muscles.  I need to be more like my Father in Heaven.  He doesn't take offense at all the silly things we do and say.  The only thing that offends Him is when we don't acknowledge Him in all things.  (D&C 59:21)--when we don't admit that He's in charge.

Prayer Cue Card

I remember in the first few weeks I was in Hong Kong I was nervous about praying in Chinese because I really had to concentrate to think of what to say and then the pronunciation was atrocious.  One day I took a tan cardstock "things to do" card and made a list of all the things I could say in my prayers.




Why put a photo of a to do list when I can put a photo of Hong Kong?



I still have the card with the horrible romanization penned on it.
I think I need to make a new card.   I've had to scrap some of the things I was used to saying and start over with more appropriate phrases.  When I'm not focused I revert to the old stand-bys and then get that catch in my throat and feel bad for saying things I don't mean.

Here's an example from a dinner prayer:  "We're thankful we are all back together tonight."  Every time I slip and say that, inside I think,  "No,  I'm not.  We aren't all here."  There's about 20 of them.  The standard things, not necessarily rote phrases, but just things you say.  Then there's the askings.  What blessing do I want?  Do I ask to be happy or to be able to move on or what?  I need a card.

I heard something at the funeral today that I'm going to put on the top of my list.  The woman that died prayed every day and night that she would be able to endure to the end.  I could say that without a pause or a catch or thinking I wasn't being sincere.  I like that--I have to do it--endure, so I should ask for help with it.  I'm going to start my list with that.  Then,  bless me with the Comforter.  I didn't think of that on my own either, but it's good.  I made a partial list a few weeks ago just from reading my patriarchal blessing.  I looked at all the counsel in it and thought I should specifically pray for those things.  It made me feel good for a few days.  It gave me focus.  Unfortunately my attention span is rather short and I'm not feeling very patient.  Answers now would be a good thing.  If Heavenly Father could tell me what to do with my life now that would be great.

I've said it and written it before, when there is only really one thing you want and you can't ask for it, it's hard to ask for other things. 

I guess I can make a pretty good prayer out of these few things and then just pray for other people.  There is always lots of people in need.  I'll just pray for them.  I can pray for my brother to remember how he felt when he used to go to church.  I can pray for his kids who are growing up without any gospel support.  I can  pray for my parents, that they can stay healthy and strong, but eventually they won't be and that's more apparent now than ever.   I can pray for my other brother and his family.  Their lives aren't quite as perfect as I've always thought.  I can pray for all those who  persecute me and despitefully use me--just kidding.  I pray for Keith.  He has so many burdens.  I pray for Lucy, that she will have friends who love her.  I pray that Mikey will stay sweet and not change when the testosterone starting  pumping.

But for me,  I'm just going to pretend that prayer language is a new language just like Chinese was and refer to my cue card and decide that even if  praying makes me bawl every time, I have to do it anyway.

How was your day Mom?

What to say?   Nothing good.  Here's my top ten list of reasons I can't function:

  1.  There's a funeral I need to go to tomorrow.  I can listen to crying people talking about the plan of salvation and all the comfort it is when you lose an 87 year old great grandmother whose husband has been waiting for her for decades.
  2.  A woman in our ward just got diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.  Oh yeah,  I can't go see her because she's at Stanford hospital where--I'm not even finishing this sentence.
  3.  My friend started her own business.  That sounds good right?  I can't even come up with anything in my day interesting enough to talk about at the dinner table,  let alone figure out what productive thing I can do to ease Keith's burden in bringing in all the cashflow.
  4.  I heard from my brother for the first time in months--he needed a favor.
  5.  I finally felt OK playing the piano one time and somebody had to make a snide remark.
  6.  My only local friendship is beyond fixing--don't even want to anymore.
  7.  I made an effort to invite my mother-in-law over and it was weird and awkward and her husband was rude.
  8.  Made the final move with my brother-in-law and thought it would make me feel better--Nope.
  9.  The heartwalk went well that day, but I don't have the strength to get more involved.
10.  My friend's son is coming home from his mission this week and mine's not.

Oh, I guess there's 11 because I feel like pulling a "Jack" and running away for a year.

3 hours until I have to look and act like everything's fine.  Yah.

Apple Hill

I had a bit of a breakdown last night.  I told Keith it feels like everything is the same.

He goes to work.
The kids go to school.
I'm at home.
We go to church.
We pay the bills.
There's fall festival at school.
There's temple trips.  (today)
It's all the same.
Except Ian's not here.
Nothing is the same.
Everything has moved on.
Everybody has moved on.
The calls are rarer.
They aren't "Are you OK" calls.
The emails are fewer.
But  he's still not here.

It was a breakdown.

Keith and Lucy went to the temple this morning--without Ian.  We went to Apple Hill for the rest of the day.  It is a tradition.  Traditions keep going.  It wasn't easy.

There a moment in the van.  I knew, at that moment,  Ian was saying,  "I'm over this.  We've been here long enough.  I'm tired of the car.  Let's go home."  I smiled to myself.  He was there.

Steve Jobs Who?

Watch out.  This is going to sound terrible.

I'm the one person in the world that doesn't think that Steve Jobs is any more important than anyone else.  I feel compassion for his family and close friends.  Loss is horrible.   But,  I will just never understand why it is such a big deal when some one well-known dies.  Do we think money or celebrity somehow makes famous people above dying?  We have to break in to national network programming and inform the entire country at the same time--really.  He'd been dying for years.  Everyone close to him had seen him, cared for him and knew his fate.

It's not news that I blame technology for the lack of civility we have today--the lack of personal contact.  I know everyone else thinks technology helps us connect more.  I don't buy that.  There's concern that can only be transferred in person.  There's a level of class that is found in a hand-written note.

Case in point,  Keith came home and told me  what he'd heard about the biography coming out later this month.

  "Just a few weeks before his death, Steve Jobs revealed in an interview that he agreed to an authorized biography on his life so that his children could know why he wasn't always there for them."

Really,  the dying man tells the writer why he wasn't there for his  kids--not his kids?

In the grand scheme of things,  Steve Jobs life  here on earth wasn't any more important than the starving baby in Ethiopia.  No, I don't think the baby's not important.  I think they are the same.

Yeah,  I guess I'm a little warped.

Crime and Punishment

Last week I got to a point in the Book of Mormon that I love--Alma talking to his 3 sons and giving them advice and counsel.  He talks to Helaman first, then Shiblon.  These two sons were good and did the things they should.  Alma was proud of them.  It's great to hear a father tell his sons about his past mistakes and admonish them not to make the same ones.  He tells of his great conversion and his angelic visitation.  He says how good it feels to make the right choices now.  He emphasizes how important it is to learn to be good while they are young.  It's a little amusing to me that he goes on about how good they are and then says but don't think you're better than others--typical parenting talk.

Then Alma takes Corianton aside.  He's the not-so-obedient son.  Alma shows him where he has gone wrong and tells him to clean up his act, but then the real meat of the gospel is laid out--the whole thing in about 3 chapters.  It's all about how the atonement and resurrection make life fair for the whole human family and how good is rewarded with good and bad, well, isn't.  I love it.  Corianton has a lot of concerns, as do all sinners and this loving father lays it all out for him.

The part that really struck me when I read it is in Chapter 42 of Alma.  Here's the whole chapter if you want the context.  In verse 16 it starts, 

16 Now, repentance could not come unto men except there were a punishment, which also was eternal as the life of the soul should be, affixed opposite to the plan of happiness, which was as eternal also as the life of the soul.  17 Now, how could a man repent except he should sin? How could he sin if there was no law? How could there be a law save there was a punishment?  18 Now, there was a punishment affixed, and a just law given, which brought remorse of conscience unto man.

This is really interesting to me.  I read it to mean that punishments are really important.  Without punishments rules don't matter.  Laws don't matter.  Commandments don't matter unless there are  punishments.  Our whole society is bent on doing away with punishments.  Consequences to actions have been tampered with.  Parents want to be the best friends of their children.  Teachers and administrators can't throw kids out of school.   Criminals are paroled early just because of overcrowding.  The death penalty is thought of as too horrible for even the most vile of murderers.  Alma goes into that next. 

19 Now, if there was no law given—if a man murdered he should die—would he be afraid he would die if he should murder?  And also, if there was no law given against sin men would not be afraid to sin.  And if there was no law given, if men sinned what could justice do, or mercy either, for they would have no claim upon the creature?

Isn't that pretty much where we are now?  We can't call anything a sin anymore outside of church because there is no moral code or compass in society anymore.  We can hear any swear word there is just by turning on the TV.  We can see any body part just by walking down the sidewalk.  Half of all children are born to single mothers;  most preteens have used some form of drugs or alcohol;  and lying and cheating has seemingly become acceptable to government officials and business professionals in every field.  The world has forgotten or ignored or simply decided to rebel against the notion that God's laws still apply.

22 But there is a law given, and a punishment affixed, and a repentance granted; which repentance, mercy claimeth; otherwise, justice claimeth the creature and executeth the law, and the law inflicteth the punishment; if not so, the works of justice would be destroyed, and God would cease to be God.

In my little realm, I can feel a little less guilty when I dole out a punishment.  If God's authority is destroyed by the lack of rules and punishments then so is mine and I kind of like the idea that I do one thing like Him.

Who Am I?

Today I decided to go back and finish one of the 10 or so posts that was still  in my drafts folder.  I think I did write something about this and about me but here's the original first try all finished up.

My friend did this exercise where she tried to describe who she is--not what she is, like wife, mother, etc.  So I thought I would try it.  I'm not sure I'm as interesting as her but...

I'm someone who sees flaws first, so I guess I'll start with what I view as negatives. 
1.    Duh, I see flaws first--that's pretty awful.  I've always thought that it was okay to see them in others because they are what I see first in myself. 
2.    I can't block out distractions.  I think these first two things are related.  If something gets my attention, I can't let go of it.  Almost OCD.  Keith used to play drums--sorry, percussion, and he has rhythm running through every vein in his body.  He taps and taps and taps on everything.  It's pretty sad he got me,  I'm forever telling him to stop because I cannot carry on a conversation or watch TV or anything until it stops.
3.    I worry. 
4.    I don't like schedules.
5.    I need time to mull.  My first 5 or 6 reactions to everything are throw-aways.  Then I get to the real reason or answer or decision.
6.    I say what I think.  Yes, I'll list that as a positive too.
7.    I question everything--no, everything.
8.    I waste a lot of time.  It's always one of the first things on my New Year's resolution list.
9.    Did I say I worry?  I worry about everything.  Even things that deserve no worrying.
10.  I  replay conversations in my head.  I've written about it before.  I think,  "I should of said that,"  or "why did she say that?" or "I sure must have sounded stupid when I said that."  I really wish I was better at letting things go.

So, yeah, I do have some positive qualities.

1.    I care.  There aren't all that many things that I just say, "Whatever" about.
2.    I say what I think.  Honesty to a fault.
3.    I want to learn everything about everything.  I'm genuinely curious about everything except war and templars and movies that are half over.
4.    I'm thrifty.  I just don't see the point of spending money that I don't have to.  That's my dad in me--the guy who has a card in his wallet where his ID is supposed to be behind the plastic that reads,  "Do I really need it?"
5.    Probably stemming from thrifty is creative.  I look at almost everything and think,  "I can make that."  I was DIY before it was popular.  I was a picker before there were TV shows about it.
6.    I'm good at things that show--cooking, singing, drawing and yet I don't think I'm as good at any of them as I used to be.  I should keep getting better at cooking since I have to do it everyday, but with Keith's job and him bringing food home all the time,  I've gotten lazy.  The drawing and singing though, I just don't do either of them very often, so Duh!
7.    I'm not afraid of much.  I think that's a good thing.  New food.  New places.  New people.  No biggie!  You'd think that would run contrary to worrying, but it doesn't.
8.    I don't care if people disagree with me.  Well, that's not 100% true, but in discussions about all kinds of things, I'm fine with my opinion and letting others have theirs.  I don't think there's only one way to do things or that every question only has one right solution.
9.    I think for 44 years old I look pretty good.  I'd rather not have gray hair and stretch marks, but they both came with having kids, so I'll gladly keep them.
10.  I'm smart.  I got a good education, both with books and with life.  Although with age, I realize that there is more that I don't know than I do.  Many things I used to be sure of, now, I just think I know.  Sometimes I give an answer and then look it up later to make sure I remember it right.

Good, bad, ugly--it's all me.

Just a Simple Anecdote

I heard a talk in general conference yesterday that really rang true with me.  In fact, I wrote about it a few months ago.  It was by a member of the relief society presidency and I don't remember the actual topic--just one anecdote.  She was talking about a woman going through trials and someone asked her how she kept her testimony while going through that.  Her answer is exactly how I feel.  "My testimony kept me,"--not the other way around.

We can save even our testimonies for a rainy day.  We can bottle them and keep them in our pantries for when things are really bad--as long as you rotate!  There are times when it's really good to have a reserve of strength on hand.  You really do resort to what you know when all things have caved in on you.  What you know needs to be that God is there.

My testimony has kept me and I refuse to let go of it or rely on any other worldly source for stability.

Tomatoes

With the exception apple sauce later in the month and one "try it out" batch of lemon marmalade,  my canning for 2011 in done.  The kettles are back in the garage and all the jars are tucked away.  I really enjoy it, but I'm glad it's over.  We got so few peaches on the tree this year that I got one batch of jam--compared with 50 quarts (yes, off 1 tree) 3 years ago.  The apricots either went into jam or were given away this year.  I focused the bulk of my jars to tomatoes.

This is the last batch.  I think they are so beautiful in the bottles, with the onions and  peppers in them.  I use them in everything:  chili, soup, spaghetti sauce, and salsa.  Having not done a single jar last summer, we actually ran out and I missed them for a few months.

Mom and dad brought out grandma's pressure canner so this was my first year doing low-acid items.  What could be easier than green beans.  I should have done twice as many.  Next year.

Keith asked for bread and butter pickles after we found cukes at the farmer's market.  I did them and grape juice at the same time.  I don't recommend that and won't be attempting it again.

This is Grandma Rich's chili sauce--the best thing ever for Sunday Pot Roast.  It has the tomatoes, onions and peppers like the stewed tomatoes, but then you add cinnamon, cloves,  and vinegar.  It makes the whole house smell so good as you cook it for about 5 hours.

This is the blackberry jam.  Mikey and I picked wild blackberries along the levee.  He ate a few, but thought it would be really fun to come home and make Keith and Lucy jealous that they didn't go so he rubbed a couple all over his face. 

We can't go a year without strawberry jam or apricot/pineapple (right) or my peach (left)--that has to be colored with food coloring because we grow white peaches and it ends up looking like puke. 

I'm glad mom taught me how to can.  I'm glad I enjoy it.  After all,  it's good for us.  I don't understand the almost disdain of some women toward this kind of thing.  It's almost like,  "aren't we passed all that pioneer stuff?  We're so much better than that in 2011."  Oh well,  I don't love a lot of the modern technologies of today, maybe I was just born 50 years too late.