I love the idea of inclusion shown in this video. Anyone can dance, anyone can be included. This is one of my favorite youtube videos.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
This is Eternal Life
We just had a beautiful experience in the temple. We had a family member who was getting married. Just as he was starting his new marriage, his brother was ending his. After about 15 years of marriage he is divorced. Four kids, a temple sealing and it is all gone. He is not to blame, and maybe no one is. The point is that he is devastated.
The sealing was beautiful. The sealer talked about how both the bride and groom had sung the song "I Love to See the Temple" as Primary children and how that had gotten them to where they were today. To enter the temple and to make the covenants with Heavenly Father is the epitome of joy and happiness.
As we all left the sealing room and went down the steps the brother was visibly upset and crying. His face was red and he could only hold his face in his hands. As he came to the bottom of the staircase his family surrounded him. They literally made a circle around him as they hugged and comforted him for about five minutes at the bottom of the staircase.
I can only imagine what was going through his head. He misses his kids. He is wondering why his wife left him. Did it have to do with him? Was he not good enough? What will happen to their temple sealing? Then his family surrounded him. I could literally see the sealing power taking effect as I realized that the family unit was still intact. He is sealed to his brothers and sisters and his mother and father.
This is what Satan is trying so hard to get us to forget. The family is the essential, basic unit of society. In whatever form it happens to take. He still has that strength and power. He still has an intact family unit.
This is just like it will be in the Celestial Kingdom. Our loved ones greeting us at the door. Surrounding us, helping us. This is the reward we will get for being righteous. This is joy. This is power. This is eternal life.
The sealing was beautiful. The sealer talked about how both the bride and groom had sung the song "I Love to See the Temple" as Primary children and how that had gotten them to where they were today. To enter the temple and to make the covenants with Heavenly Father is the epitome of joy and happiness.
As we all left the sealing room and went down the steps the brother was visibly upset and crying. His face was red and he could only hold his face in his hands. As he came to the bottom of the staircase his family surrounded him. They literally made a circle around him as they hugged and comforted him for about five minutes at the bottom of the staircase.
I can only imagine what was going through his head. He misses his kids. He is wondering why his wife left him. Did it have to do with him? Was he not good enough? What will happen to their temple sealing? Then his family surrounded him. I could literally see the sealing power taking effect as I realized that the family unit was still intact. He is sealed to his brothers and sisters and his mother and father.
This is what Satan is trying so hard to get us to forget. The family is the essential, basic unit of society. In whatever form it happens to take. He still has that strength and power. He still has an intact family unit.
This is just like it will be in the Celestial Kingdom. Our loved ones greeting us at the door. Surrounding us, helping us. This is the reward we will get for being righteous. This is joy. This is power. This is eternal life.
Friday, February 26, 2010
My Little Prayer....
Life is busy, and it's really late so I'll keep this short. I have a dear friend who has cancer. His dear wife posts daily updates on his condition, and he's in a lot of pain. He is a member of a stake presidency and stake conference is this weekend. All he wants to do is to talk in stake conference. Please, if my little prayer means anything at all, let him do it. He can uplift people like no one else I've seen. The people at stake conference need to hear from him. Let him have his miracle.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
How Bad My Life Isn't
I just got an email from a dear friend. We met almost a year ago. She told me about some problems she's had with her husband. He's been unfaithful among other things. This may sound like a depressing way to start a blog entry, but I can't stop thinking about it. She's amazing! She reads her scriptures, goes to church, attends the temple, does everything she's supposed to do and she gets stuck with a problem like this. Why? My patent answer of, "That which does not kill you makes you stronger," really doesn't seem to apply here. The only thing I can come up with is that she is there to get that man to heaven, even if he goes kicking and screaming. She's the only chance he's got!
This brings me to the real reason for writing this entry. I'm so glad for my life!! Sure, there's some bumpy parts, and some parts I don't want other people to see, but for the most part my life is good. Maybe that's one of the reasons my friend is going through this, to show me how bad my life isn't.
Yesterday I had this great idea: we would have a picnic at the park for FHE. I decided to make peanut butter noodle salad. (My kids love peanut butter noodle salad) I got it all ready and took it out to the porch to load into the car and dumped the whole think right over onto the cement. My desire to go to the park vanished along with any excitement I had. Had I gotten that email from my friend yesterday I wouldn't have reacted that way. I wouldn't have cried over spilt "salad." I would have kept perspective.
I loved the General Conference talk where I was reminded I'm nobody and the minute I forget that Heavenly Father will remind me and it won't be pleasant. I'm glad I could learn this lesson, again, through my friend instead of having to learn it myself.
This brings me to the real reason for writing this entry. I'm so glad for my life!! Sure, there's some bumpy parts, and some parts I don't want other people to see, but for the most part my life is good. Maybe that's one of the reasons my friend is going through this, to show me how bad my life isn't.
Yesterday I had this great idea: we would have a picnic at the park for FHE. I decided to make peanut butter noodle salad. (My kids love peanut butter noodle salad) I got it all ready and took it out to the porch to load into the car and dumped the whole think right over onto the cement. My desire to go to the park vanished along with any excitement I had. Had I gotten that email from my friend yesterday I wouldn't have reacted that way. I wouldn't have cried over spilt "salad." I would have kept perspective.
I loved the General Conference talk where I was reminded I'm nobody and the minute I forget that Heavenly Father will remind me and it won't be pleasant. I'm glad I could learn this lesson, again, through my friend instead of having to learn it myself.
Friday, March 27, 2009
What It's Like Being Married to the Bishop--A Cautionary Tale
I can't believe how many times I hear someone allude to the fact that they want to be the bishop. Of course, no one comes right out and says it, but you can tell they're thinking it. I am not an expert, but I can shed a little light on how it effects the family of said bishop.
My husband has been the bishop for almost four years. Where I live that means he is almost finished. I remember the day that he was called. The former bishop and his wife couldn't stop smiling. At first I thought it was because they were so happy for my husband, but now I know the truth. Those smiles were masking a sinister secret.
I'll start with the obvious: When your married to the bishop you do not have any help getting kids ready for church on Sunday. This is already apparent because many of you have been the Relief Society President or in PEC and have met with your bishop before church. Our goal when we started this adventure was to have him be in charge of laundry on Saturday night. In theory, he would find all the clothes for the kids and iron them lovingly and hang them in their closets or drape them over the banister waiting anxiously for Sunday morning. This has happened twice in the last four years. My typical Sunday morning goes something like this:
9:00 Everyone gets up and starts the shower routine. I bathe the little girls and everyone else showers.
10:00 I tell one of the boys to shower for the tenth time. One of the little girls can't find her dress and is standing, crying in only her panties and tights.
10:30 The teenager deigns to grace us with her presence and asks, very politely, if she can shower. (The politeness is just a ruse. What she's really saying is that if I don't let her shower, late, then she will pout and tell me that she doesn't have time to help with the younger kids.)
11:00 The youngest is ready and wanting breakfast but neither boy has found his shoes or socks and both of their shirts are filthy with last Sunday's playing. I tell the boys to look hard for some socks and clean shirts and then leave for a meeting.
12:00 I come back from my meeting and find most of the children ready, except that one. (There's one like her in every family) She still hasn't found her dress and has put on a big t-shirt while she looks. She, of course, stopped looking the minute I walked out of the house and has been playing ever since. We have exactly 10 minutes to scramble around to find something. We usually make it, but she's in tennis shoes.
The second thing I learned is that on Bishop night I can't count on him to be home for dinner. The kids have taken to asking, "Is daddy eating with us today?" The former bishop's wife told me that she never waited for him. I thought that was horrible, until I walked a mile in her shoes. I do still wait dinner, but not often.
The third thing is cell phones. In the four years he's been bishop he has become adept, as all bishops do, at sleeping with his eyes open and with a thoughtful expression on his face. The kids and I sit on the front row so that he can, "See the kids." (I'll go into that later) When we see him starting in on the thoughtful expression out comes the cell phone and we laugh as he startles awake to see who's calling.
The last thing is that he is still a dad. During sacrament meeting last week I was thoroughly enjoying the speakers. I reached for my phone to see something and I had a text. It said, "Separate the boys." I looked over and saw my two boys wrestling on the bench. This situation was quickly resolved. Others are harder. One time I was asked substitute for the chorister in Sacrament. While I was on the stand the boys got rowdy. My husband has become quite adept at what we lovingly call the "evil eye". It will stop any misbehavior cold, even from a distance. Unfortunately, it was defective on this day and had no effect. He got down off the stand and took the boys out in the hall. During the next hour the Sunday School teacher said that he was glad he wasn't misbehaving, or he might have gotten the same treatment.
Don't let this happen to you. Invest in caller ID and avoid calls from the stake clerk. Block your number from appearing in any publication and only give it out to very trustworthy people. If you don't this could be your fate as well. Good luck.
My husband has been the bishop for almost four years. Where I live that means he is almost finished. I remember the day that he was called. The former bishop and his wife couldn't stop smiling. At first I thought it was because they were so happy for my husband, but now I know the truth. Those smiles were masking a sinister secret.
I'll start with the obvious: When your married to the bishop you do not have any help getting kids ready for church on Sunday. This is already apparent because many of you have been the Relief Society President or in PEC and have met with your bishop before church. Our goal when we started this adventure was to have him be in charge of laundry on Saturday night. In theory, he would find all the clothes for the kids and iron them lovingly and hang them in their closets or drape them over the banister waiting anxiously for Sunday morning. This has happened twice in the last four years. My typical Sunday morning goes something like this:
9:00 Everyone gets up and starts the shower routine. I bathe the little girls and everyone else showers.
10:00 I tell one of the boys to shower for the tenth time. One of the little girls can't find her dress and is standing, crying in only her panties and tights.
10:30 The teenager deigns to grace us with her presence and asks, very politely, if she can shower. (The politeness is just a ruse. What she's really saying is that if I don't let her shower, late, then she will pout and tell me that she doesn't have time to help with the younger kids.)
11:00 The youngest is ready and wanting breakfast but neither boy has found his shoes or socks and both of their shirts are filthy with last Sunday's playing. I tell the boys to look hard for some socks and clean shirts and then leave for a meeting.
12:00 I come back from my meeting and find most of the children ready, except that one. (There's one like her in every family) She still hasn't found her dress and has put on a big t-shirt while she looks. She, of course, stopped looking the minute I walked out of the house and has been playing ever since. We have exactly 10 minutes to scramble around to find something. We usually make it, but she's in tennis shoes.
The second thing I learned is that on Bishop night I can't count on him to be home for dinner. The kids have taken to asking, "Is daddy eating with us today?" The former bishop's wife told me that she never waited for him. I thought that was horrible, until I walked a mile in her shoes. I do still wait dinner, but not often.
The third thing is cell phones. In the four years he's been bishop he has become adept, as all bishops do, at sleeping with his eyes open and with a thoughtful expression on his face. The kids and I sit on the front row so that he can, "See the kids." (I'll go into that later) When we see him starting in on the thoughtful expression out comes the cell phone and we laugh as he startles awake to see who's calling.
The last thing is that he is still a dad. During sacrament meeting last week I was thoroughly enjoying the speakers. I reached for my phone to see something and I had a text. It said, "Separate the boys." I looked over and saw my two boys wrestling on the bench. This situation was quickly resolved. Others are harder. One time I was asked substitute for the chorister in Sacrament. While I was on the stand the boys got rowdy. My husband has become quite adept at what we lovingly call the "evil eye". It will stop any misbehavior cold, even from a distance. Unfortunately, it was defective on this day and had no effect. He got down off the stand and took the boys out in the hall. During the next hour the Sunday School teacher said that he was glad he wasn't misbehaving, or he might have gotten the same treatment.
Don't let this happen to you. Invest in caller ID and avoid calls from the stake clerk. Block your number from appearing in any publication and only give it out to very trustworthy people. If you don't this could be your fate as well. Good luck.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
True friendship isn't being inseperable, it's being seperated and nothing changes. I love quotes and I thought I would start my first blog with this one. Friends make life worth living. I have been touched in so many ways by the people in my life. I've learned and grown and I hope to continue to learn and grow. So, to all my friends, I hope this blog makes you laugh and sometimes cry. I hope to get to know myself better, and I hope to know all of you better.
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