When St. Francis of Assisi was asked what he would do if he were suddenly to learn that he would die at sunset that day he answered, "I would finish hoeing my garden." I have wondered what he meant by that reply, and this is what I think. Some people worry about the future or wonder if what they are doing really matters because something might happen to knock their work down or destroy their happiness, but they (we) need to go on hoeing and not stop. It is good to concentrate on the tasks at hand today. We cannot control the future, but we have great agency in the gift of today and how it plays out. There is meaning and purpose in what we do each day, and through our tasks we are building character.

Dorothy Van Doren wrote: "The task is still here--the house to build, the book to write, the examination to prepare for. However dark it seems today, we shall meet life better if we have fulfilled the present to the best of our ability. Today is still ours, along with the obligation to live it to the full."

 

"It has seemed to me that each year one should pause to take stock of himself, to ask: Where am I going? What am I becoming? What do I wish to do and become? Most people whom I encountered were without purpose, people who had given themselves no goal.  The first goal need not be the final one, for a sailing ship sails first by one wind, then another. the point is that it is always going somewhere, proceeding toward a final destination" (Louis L'Amour in The Walking Drum).

January has been a time of reflection for me. What do I want to have happen this year? I am busy and I am trying to do good things, but am I becoming what God wants me to be? Doing is different than becoming. A mission is good at softening one's heart, or should I say cracking it open. "God," I plead, "tell me how I can change and improve. Help me with this, and with this." I wonder sometimes if my rough spots really can be smoothed. Not on my own, that's for sure, but with the grace of Jesus Christ I can change.

 

I have a friend named Laurie who is finishing her mission this week.  She and her husband have been mission leaders in Brazil the past three years. She wrote this in September, 2024, and I learned from it:

Am I speaking perfect Portugues? Absolutely not! But I understand and am understood and it is absolutely wonderful.  In the first year of our mission I asked Rick if he could fast forward and get to the end of our mission with no negative consequences, i.e. we'd have done well and it would be over, would he do it? He was a little put off by this hypothetical question and said, "Of course not! I want to experience it all." But I admit that I was totally in for the fast forward. The days were very long that first year when I could only understand parts of what people were saying.  Year two things changed and I started to hear about the miracles first hand and it was a lot more fun. Now in year three, if given the option to fast forward to the end of our mission, my response would be the same as Rick's, "Of course not! I want to experience it all." Now that I understand what's going on and can fully participate. I don't want to miss a minute.

  

 Lessons I learned from the Pioneer Day Provo Temple to Temple 5k that can be applied to my life:

1.  There are lots of people who participate in this race. It was fun getting to know some of them.

2. Enjoy the scenery. I ran past the location of the old Provo temple (it has been completely razed), the MTC, the football stadium, the field house, the indoor practice facility, Brick Oven restaurant, shaded neighborhoods, finally arriving at the beautiful Provo City Center Temple. 

3. Set your own pace. I had people passing me throughout the entire race and I was sure I would be one of the last people to cross the finish line, but it didn't matter.  I was running at a pace that felt comfortable to me.

4. Look outward!  (Which I did not do.)  I was hot and focused and just trying to make it through the race.  I was not looking outward but was looking at the road in front of me.  A college-aged girl ran past me and said, "You'll make it.  You've got this." I appreciated her encouragement.  

5. The goal I set ahead of time helped.  I told myself that I could go as slow as I wanted, but that I was going to run the entire race. It helped to have set that goal before the race. I know some conditions present themselves which make the altering of a goal necessary, but in this case, the established goal carried me through the fatigue.

6. Don't give up! Keep running. You'll make it! I crossed the finish line with a beet-red face, but I did it!

I am reading a book by Brad Montague which I am liking. Mr. Montague is a very creative and insightful person.  A decade ago, he produced this video, starring his brother-in-law. Here's a pep talk for you:

These are the excellent words I read today by Steven Collis:

One of the defining characteristics of our age, at least in the Western world, is that people are trying to find themselves. They are trying to improve themselves. They are seeking self-care. They are seeking much-needed therapy, through professionals and through any number of resources online, through smartphones and apps and as many likes on social media as their selfies and memes can produce. 

We live in an era of increasing individualism, where our entire culture is encouraging us to live our best lives by seeking after and developing our authentic selves. “Pursuit of the self” defines modern society. Along the way, we are increasingly told that the only truth that matters is the truth we create for ourselves. Whole industries have ballooned up around self-improvement, with no shortage of advice. It seems, more than ever before, human beings are focused on becoming their best selves. 

But what do we have to show for all this focus on the self? What fruits has it given us? We are seeing mental health crises increasing at a dramatic pace, especially among young people. Depression, anxiety and suicidality are rampant. Polarization sits at some of the highest levels in history. Trust in many of our institutions is eroding. Too many of us cannot even talk to each other. As counterintuitive as it may seem, it appears that a focus on taking care of and promoting ourselves is doing very little to help individuals or our society. 

Christ taught, “Whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.” And Christians lose themselves for his sake by serving the “least of these” among us. The ancient Stoic philosopher Seneca wrote, “Nor can anyone live happily who has only himself in view, who turns everything to his own advantage; you ought to live for the other fellow, if you want to live for yourself.”  

We can lose ourselves by loving our families more than our ambitions. We can lose ourselves by learning the needs of our neighbors. We can lose ourselves by fighting less on Twitter with strangers and spending a little more time with our family, friends and people in our community. We can lose ourselves by helping our co-workers receive praise, rather than seeking it for ourselves. We can spend a little less time focused on how other people should change, and more on simply helping anyone in our circle who needs it. 

Spouses can spend more time with each other. Parents can give more time to their children and less to their phones. Children can serve their parents and their siblings. We can all offer to help more in our families, our neighborhoods, our churches, our schools, in charitable organizations or in the military. We can spend less time posting or reading online about the world’s problems and more time actually engaged with human beings around us. 

May we let go of ourselves by being a little more forgiving. May we look to uplift others instead of ourselves — not through quick social media posts but through actual helpfulness to real human beings in our lives, perhaps especially those with whom we disagree. That is how we can heal ourselves and our society.

To quote Seneca again: “It is required of a man that he should benefit his fellow-men —many if he can; if not, a few; if not a few, those who are nearest ... For when he renders himself useful to others, he engages in public affairs.”

To find ourselves, to truly heal ourselves, we must lose ourselves in the service of others — even, and perhaps especially, the service of those who are different from us.

https://www.deseret.com/2023/2/8/23587813/the-dorchester-sinking-anniversary-chaplains-charles-david-jr

A lot of the time our family texts are humorous, but today a family member posed a deep question:

"I know that the power of the Atonement covers sins and afflictions of all kinds.  What I am trying to understand is why we still feel grief and pain even after we've used the atonement. When I repent of sins I usually feel completely free from the guilt and shame, but when I ask for the Atoning power to comfort me in times of grief or sadness, it doesn't just go away. The situation improves, but sometimes the grief lasts for years. If Christ suffered for those things, why do those feelings still remain? Why do the scriptures talk about being 'made whole' if some of the pain is still left behind? I don't want this question to come off as me doubting the atonement."

Responses:

My initial thought would be that pain and suffering are an essential aspect of mortality, so we can't totally be relieved of that without losing the necessary lessons and refining that come from enduring the hard parts of life.  When I've experienced grief, disappointment, or sadness the atonement has lessened my pain and despair but it hasn't fully taken it away--probably because that particular struggle is something  necessary for me to experience while on earth.  But I have felt the atonement buoy me up enough to survive the rough times.  

We come to know the Savior and His sacrifice better by getting a taste of suffering. As far as actually getting past it and being able to leave it behind--I think we still will be made whole for all of that, but maybe not in mortality.  Like a physical ailment that can last a lifetime, some things we endure and feel all through our lives and hope for completion and perfection in the future.

I worry that if all pain and grief were completely taken, my memory would fade and I would fall back into the same bad decisions.

Healing from pain is a gradual process, and I think we are continuously being made closer to whole through the atonement.

I am in a very odd position because I have several women my age who are friends of mine, who have lost their husbands.  I have been told that some of them cry every single day, even though their husbands passed well over a year ago. The pain is part of mortality.  The pain is the price that is paid because they loved so deeply.  The atonement has not taken every ounce of grief and pain away from them, but it has softened it, and each of the ladies have been blessed, as they have turned to the Savior, with spiritual power to go forward in their lives. I think that as they walk through the remainder of their days here on earth, they will always feel somewhat incomplete without their spouse by their side, but the hope in Christ that they carry in their hearts makes possible their being whole again.

"Salvation is not a cheap experience. Salvation never was easy. How could we believe it would be easy for us when it was never, every easy for Him? It is supposed to require some effort, something from the depths of our soul." (Jeffrey Holland, "Missionary Work and the Atonement," October 2001)

"Sometimes suffering comes to the righteous too. When we promise to walk in His footsteps, and be His disciples, we are promising to go where that divine path leads us.  And the path of salvation has always led one way or another through Gethsemane.  So if the Savior faced such injustices and discouragements, such persecutions, unrighteousness and suffering, we cannot expect that we are not going to face some of that if we still intend to call ourselves His true disciples and faithful followers. However heavy our load might be, it would be a lot heavier if the Savior had not gone that way before us and carried that burden with us and for us." (Jeffrey R. Holland, "Lessons from Liberty Jail," September 2009)

I see the Atonement's enabling power to include the enhanced ability to establish and maintain perspective.  And that perspective doesn't necessarily remove the sting but rather dulls it. And as our faith grows we are better able to endure, even joyfully.

 This video inspires me.

A few things that family history work has done for me:

1. I have learned more about my ancestors, meaning facts and circumstances.

2. I have come to appreciate my progenitors for the lives they lived and the way they faced challenges. I have learned of their spiritual and emotional resilience. The facts have been "fleshed out" and their is now meaning and feelings associated with a name.

3. Temple worship has become more meaningful.

4. I have a greater appreciation for my life. I realize that my turn on earth will not last forever.

5. I am enthused with determination to be faithful to my covenants, to make my time here on earth count for something, and to learn from the examples of others. 

6. As I sort through group sheets, pictures, and letters, I feel that I am spending time on something meaningful. If no one else benefits from the additions to Family Search that have been made in the last few months, the journey will have been worth it for what it has done for me.

I loved seeing these quilts (and many others) at the Springville Art Museum quilt show this week. This quote by R. Val Johnson goes well with the bright colors:

"I've learned that life needs to be lived with passion and energy.  Each minute is a treasure, and once it passes, it's gone forever, reflected only weakly in memory.  I've learned that if you're going to serve others or worship the Lord, you're happiest and most effective when you do it with all the joy and energy you have." 

("Sister Mabel, Singing," September 2016 Ensign)

 

 

I continue to sort through the boxes of keepsakes that I brought home from my parent's home.  There are pictures, cards, letters, family group sheets, etc., and it is an adventure every time I face it. I like the work.  I like what I am learning about my ancestors.  I have both a "bird's eye view" of my place in a large family with hundreds of relatives and my place in it, and I have a "frog's eye view" through letters telling what a person was thinking about and dealing with on a certain day. Both views have enlarged my life and made me feel gratitude. Here are a few things I have been happy to learn this month:

--My grandma loved my grandpa.  Well that sounds funny, doesn't it? It's just that in their later years, grandma did not demonstrate her love to him in the usual ways, so I wondered. As I have read the letters my grandma wrote to my mother over the course of many years, I hear in her words the expression of her love for her husband.  She is concerned when he has health problems. She supports him in his callings. She comments on all of his work in the yard and around the house.  I hear appreciation and love as I read her letters.

--My father was generous, even before he had a lot of money.  I read a letter from him in the 50's and learned of a contribution he made to someone that I had not known about. Of course I had not known about it, because this was before I was born.  He and my mom were renting a place in California at the time. They were both working and he had decided to change careers and go back to school. This was the time period during which the contribution(s) was made. I was touched by his generosity.

--Write feelings along with facts.  It is interesting to hear the daily routines of life in journals and letters, but I prize the feelings shared. Once in a while, someone writes a paragraph of testimony, or pens a few sentences about the meaning of life or a lesson learned, and those lines are gold!

--Each of us has our turn on earth, and then we depart. I know we all know this, but it has recently hit home to me. We each have one turn and we are given a "package" to deal with, and we have a chance to live and breathe, learn and reach out, and then we depart to another place. I am inspired to make the most of this estate, to not waste away my days but to make something of them.

 

Wow! I read this poem today by Pablo Neruda and it made me think about my life.  Am I too entrenched in habit? Do I leave room for risk and variance? I had a piano student come to his first lesson today.  He is 14 years-old and learned six notes on the piano.  I was so proud of him for trying something new. It takes a lot of courage for a teenage boy to begin piano lessons.

"Die Slowly" by Pablo Neruda

He who does not travel,

who does not read,

who does not listen to music,

who does not find grace in himself, dies slowly.

 

He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,

who does not allow himself to be helped,

who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck,

about the rain that never stops, dies slowly.

 

He who becomes the slave of habit,

who follows the same routes every day,

who never changes pace,

who does not risk and change the colour of his clothes,

who does not speak and does not experience, dies slowly.

 

He or she who shuns passion,

who prefers black on white,

dotting ones rather than a bundle of emotions,

the kind that make your eyes glimmer,

that turn a yawn into a smile,

that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings, dies slowly.

 

He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,

who is unhappy at work,

who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,

to thus follow a dream,

those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives, die slowly. 

 

He or she who abandon a project before starting it,

who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn’t know,

he or she who don’t reply when they are asked something they do know, die slowly.

 

Let’s try and avoid death in small doses,

always reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort by far

greater than the simple fact of breathing.

Only a burning patience will lead to the attainment of a splendid happiness.

 Here are three religious books I have recently read and would recommend:

The Spirit is breathing new life into Christ’s church.  You can feel it.  It’s time to lower the drawbridge, open the shutters, and let the air in.  It’s time to take the precious gifts that God has entrusted us with, and that we have been carefully stewarding for two centuries, and use them to bless the world.  It’s time to let the Restoration do its work not just for the church but for the world. The Restoration is God’s ongoing invitation to modern humanity to come to Christ and be healed.  The Restoration is the work of a loving Father and Mother who are pained that their children needlessly suffer and who have already prepared the banquet for their beloved prodigals.  The Restoration is today’s fulfillment of an age-old promise to a worldwide family (pg. 8).

 

 

God, as the Supreme Power in the universe, invites His people to enter into a covenant.  They are agents unto themselves.  He does not force them.  He gives them choice.  The covenant is conditional.  If they keep the commandments and divine statutes that He reveals, they will be blessed with a fullness of the promises made to Abraham.  Those who fail to show devoted loyalty to God lose their access to the blessings of Abraham (pg. 72). God will not force us to accept the promises He made to Abraham.  God will not compel us to make covenants.  God will not require us to live in His promised lands.  God loves and invites.  He makes the covenants available. He has prophetic writers preserve the stories of faithful individuals who trusted God and reaped the covenantal rewards so that we as readers will be encouraged to also trust the god of covenants.  The purpose of this life is for us to choose to be on the covenant path (pg. 261). 

 

This is the God we believe in.  The God of rams in thickets.  The shipbuilder, the well giver, the prison breaker.  A God who opens up seas and dries up mud.  The One who wins battles with broken pitchers and single stones, who stands in fiery furnaces and closes the mouths of lions.  Every story is different, but the outcome is the same.  Unexpected deliverance (pg. 6).