It's a Very Blustery Day

This morning was good.  It was brisk outside.  I drove to Folsom to the temple.  It's surrounded by huge trees and a few wild turkeys.  I didn't see any of them today (the week after Thanksgiving and all), but the bright blue sunny sky and the leaves blowing made me cheerful.  There were places on the drive where you couldn't see the road because of the leaves.  It reminded me of New Hampshire.  It also got me thinking.

Leaves are their most beautiful, vibrant colors right before they fall.  They're great in the spring when they are small and soft as velvet, but they aren't nearly as majestic.  There was a woman in the temple, helping me today.  I was looking closely at her hands.  They were dainty and gnarled.  They were covered in age spots and the veins were all  poking out.  You know what I thought?  They were so beautiful.  I love to be around old women.  They are so wise.  They are perfectly seasoned.  They've been through enough hard things in their lives that they know when not to speak, they know when to joke and when to throw their hands up in the air.  They know which things really matter.  They are closer to the bright colors of autumn in their lives.  I'm sure some of them want to cling with all their might to the branches of this life and some will be excited for the winds to blow through.

I know.  I have weird thoughts.  Whatever.

The blowing leaves also made me think of change.  Passing time.  I wish I could say that it made me think of the imminent snowfall of winter, but not in CA.  I'm going to try really hard to make a change.  I'm going to try to leaf (get it) behind some things.  Regret, guilt, blame, judgement and the 'what if's, at least for a season.  The cold winter can chill me with grief and loneliness, but not with the other feelings.  They can stay buried in the leaf piles or by the snowdrifts.  I'm going in where it's warm for a while.

Again,  I know, weird.  That's my brain.

Thanksgiving

I'm just guessing that the number one thing to be thankful for isn't supposed to be that Thanksgiving is over, but hey,  I thought of something. 

I was glad that my house didn't get robbed the day before too.  That made for a great Thanksgiving a few years ago.

I'm thankful I didn't have to face the holiday alone.  I'm glad I have a partner who knows how I feel.  I love Keith.

I'm thankful for the friend who invited us to dinner and understood that we aren't back to normal and it would be a hard day for us.  She doesn't have a partner to face the holiday with.  She lost her husband 8 years ago.  We made good holiday sharers.  Hopefully her sons enjoyed it.  You never know.

I'm thankful for good parents.

I'm thankful for knowing the source of all blessings--A God who loves me even when I mope and whine and don't want to be thankful.

76 Trombones

I don't know how many times in my life I've heard people say they want to be a "tool in God's hands" or referenced that phrase in some way.  I've thought about my dad's or my husband's  tool bench with a hundred tools either laying out or up on a hook.  I've thought about how great it would be to be the special screwdriver that seems to get chosen for every job--the crescent wrench that adjusts to fit whatever nut needs to be loosened.  I can imagine the spiritual spotlight from above shining on the individual tool that is suited for the task at hand.  It's a good mental picture.  As it turns out, there is no scriptural basis for the phrase, at least that I can find.   It's kind of like  "I never said it would be easy, I only said it would be worth it."  Yeah, some great  phrase somebody made up and tried to put in God's mouth.

There are a few references to "instrument in God's hands."  They are all, however, in the Book of Mormon so the general population of Christendom doesn't read them or gain access to the  metaphor.  In Alma 26:3 it says,  "And this is the blessing which hath been bestowed upon us, that we have been made instruments in the hands of God to bring about this great work."  That's Ammon talking about sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ.

I actually think I like the mental meaning better for instrument than tool.  Instruments are, for the most part, only used for making beauty.  Tools make me think of grime and sweat and Murphy's Law, whereas music  evokes feeling; touches the soul; calms or excites.  Again, I wonder, "How do I be the instrument that gets picked up?"  It also makes me think about my piano playing and how great it would be to be the piano played by Someone who never makes mistakes--just always sounds like it's supposed to.  That brings up the "keeping ourselves in tune" phrase. 

As long as I'm in tune, does it matter if I'm the base drum that's needed in every song or the euphonium that most people have never even heard of?  Philosophically, for this discussion, probably not, but it's hard to keep that in mind all the time--especially when the bass drum is booming along in perfect rhythm.

I found one other metaphor that belongs here.  2 Timothy 2:20-21  "But in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and of silver, but also of wood and of earth; and some to honour, and some to dishonour.  If a man therefore purge himself from these, he shall be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and meet for the master's use and prepared unto every good work."  I think this means that some of us are shiny and seen as really impressive, but others of us are wood or clay, and as long as we are all  clean  inside, we can be equally usable in God's hands.  Is it awful that I would still rather be gold than wood?

I want to be used by God.  I want to be the french horn solo in the Christmas pageant of life.  I want to be the pitcher that's perfectly polished on the table for a feast.  I know.  It's wrong.  I guess I want him to pick me up even if I'm just a pinch-pot or a  kazoo.

Whine, whine, whine

One line of a talk in sacrament meeting has stuck with me this week.  The talk was about gratitude, but that was not necessarily the message I received. 

The line was "no misfortune is so bad that whining about it won’t make it worse."  It's from a talk titled "The Tongue of Angels" given by Jeffrey R. Holland in the April 2007 General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  After thinking about it for a few days, I decided to look up the reference.  I listened to it online in his own voice.  I have to say I should frame many parts of it and put them on my fridge.

There are so many scriptures I've underlined over the years on gaining control over what comes out of my mouth.
A soft answer turneth away wrath.
It's not what goes in, but what comes out of your mouth that gets you.
Don't provoke your children.

This talk kind of brought them all together and gave me a real wake up call.  I need to say less.   Say it better and still find a way to  be myself without the abrasiveness.  It's a hard line for me.  I like being open.  I like people knowing where I stand.  I don't like people feeling intimidated or judged by me.  I don't like hurting people's feelings. 

Back to the quote.  I do whine.  I think, truth be told, it gives me some power.  Trying to do what's expected of me is difficult.  Whining to my husband, my mom, or the occasional friend helps me express my will, even when I do someone else's.  Nevertheless, whining isn't a good thing.  It does stir the proverbial pot.  Like he said, it does make things worse.

Here's the link:  The Tongue of Angels  I would encourage it for everybody.

NTT--no title today

There's a  whole lot going on keeping me from posting anything.  First, the holiday season is here.  Halloween is just the awful start to the whole thing.  Maybe Thanksgiving would be easier if it didn't follow Halloween, which glaringly points to the big gaping hole in our family and masks all the things we obviously have to be grateful for.  I don't know.

Second,  reading more, as I have this year, has made me realize that no matter what thoughts or feelings I have, someone else has already had them and can express their ideas as good or better than I can.  Knowing that God's children are as vast as the stars in the heavens or the sands on the seashore doesn't do wonders for the "I'm unique or special" confidence.

Third, if I don't sit down at the keys and let something come out,  I can better pretend that there's nothing to come out.  I'm standing at a dike again.  A new dike.  If I let anything flow over it, I might not ever gain control of how powerful the waters become.  It could drown me.   Plus,  really, does that imagery make  any sense to anybody but me?  I doubt it.

I should be spending my time doing things that are actually productive.  I mean if sitting at a computer typing was  accomplishing anything it would be different--I'm discouraged.  Plain and simple.  Nothing comes from me doing this.  It doesn't change anything.  I'm still the one woman out of billions, who impacts very few other people.  The one person who needed me the most, who was most directly affected by my actions, my realm of responsibility is gone.

Last, is it really fair to sit here and type while Keith is at work taking care of me?  He has way more crap to deal with than I do.  I'm sure spending time at hospitals and with grieving families has really boosted his week.  But he's done it and I'm sure he's done it well.  I just need to follow his example and plow ahead and stop thinking so much.

Playing nice with Others

"Be who you are and say what you feel,  because those who mind don't matter,  and those that matter don't mind."  --Dr. Seuss

For someone like me, who is forever saying too much, or the wrong thing,  this quote is profound.  I will have several occasions to keep it in mind this week.  Maybe if I decide it's okay to just be myself--really okay, then I will be happier.  Yeah, that'll happen.

Soldier On

Soldier on, to persist steadfastly in one's work; persevere: to soldier on until the work is done.

Words are great.  I was reading in Timothy this morning because I was wide awake an hour before I needed to be.  Timothy and James are my favorites in the New Testament.  There is so much good stuff in them--and so compact.  Plus, they aren't as hard to understand as some of the others.

The verse that caught my attention  was 2 Timothy 2:3  "Thou therefore endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ."  The footnote says hardness means affliction or vexation--so anything that irritates or bothers or hurts.

In my world this means--
Endure to the end and don't let anything stupid get in the way--no matter how big or small.  You signed up to be a disciple of Christ, so be one.

Soldier on doesn't mean to simply exist.  It means to keep fighting.  So does Endure to the end.  Like it or not, doing what is right is a fight.