We Each Could Use a Bit More of that Love

Sometimes the hatred I see around me just makes me hurt. I see Clinton supporters pointing fingers at Berny supporters, pointing fingers at Trump who is pointing fingers at everyone. I just saw a shirt that said, roughly, "when people complain about the current generation I want to tell them to think about who raised that generation." It seems as if people keep pointing fingers because no one dares slow down enough to really think about what is at stake and what is really going on. If you keep people on edge long enough they'll forget how to slow down, start listening, realize there are commonalities with the people around them and start building bridges not burn them.

I was at a local rodeo the other day and felt my heart start to race just a little bit as I saw the flag flapping in the wind as an attendant came galloping in on her horse. My heart raced again as I heard the music singing for our veterans. There has been much talk of late about lying, deceit, poor reasons, hatred and bigotry concerning the wars the U.S has fought, it seems like every time I turn around I see someone logically trying to point out why I am wrong, narrow minded, full of hate or just plain stupid for living my faith.

Life is too short and overwhelming to spend our lives trying to point out the negative and the different. It's interesting how we humans can help a random person on the street and then go and typecast that person as part of a group that you can never see eye to eye with. Perhaps as humans we need to take the time to realize that each person is an individual with their own heartaches, frustrations, joys and triumphs. Each of us on this earth were sent here to learn, grow and progress, that will look different for everyone. Each of us sat down in a personal interview with our Heavenly Father, we talked about what we would face here and what we would need to to do to return to Him. We realized there were no guarantees, but that we would have help along the way. Because we don't know the path we each agreed to we cannot judge others whether they have left their path or not. We cannot pass judgement nor even think about it, because we have our own role and purpose here on this earth. Hopefully part of that path and role involves sharing the love of our Savior Jesus Christ and our dear Father in Heaven, because we each could use a bit more of that love.

There are many times I have forgotten that, I've forgotten that the path I have chosen isn't for everyone and more importantly isn't perfect, is not without flaw or hurt sometimes, but that is what humanity is all about, sometimes we fumble, sometimes we hurt, sometimes we speak without thinking, but we ask for forgiveness and we give forgiveness and we just just keep trying.

We are so Very Loved

On this beautiful Sunday morning I was pondering on Father's day and the importance of fathers. My dad taught me how to love studying the gospel. My mom taught me faith and how to believe in a loving Heavenly Father. My dad taught me to enjoy searching out the things of God and making them a part of my life. He's probably one of the reasons I took so many of the institute classes I did, I wanted to learn what he has learned throughout his life. Many Sundays we would gather as a family and he would pull out a book from his ample collection of early church history and we would read and discuss the doctrine. As he has grown and matured he has taught me what it means to sacrifice what we want now for what really matters later, as well as always putting your family first. My dad always worked so hard, in his career, his church calling and around our house. He has taught me a work ethic that continues to bless my life.

If my earthly father, with all the imperfections we mortals have has taught me all of this, what has my Heavenly Father taught and done for me? As I pondered this morning I thought about my Heavenly Father who offered his son as a sacrifice for sin, He allowed Jesus Christ to suffer mockery, isolation, pain and fear so that we could be saved and returned to Him. He loves us so much He left his son alone in a garden to undergo the Atonement so that our Savior would know how to succor us in that isolation. Our sinless Savior understands what it is to feel separated from God because in His darkest hour His father, our Father in Heaven in pain and mourning left our Savior to face the agony of sin and mortality alone. Our Father in heaven created this earth that we might come here to face the extremities of mortality and learn to choose Him even when we can't see Him. He knew that some would not be able to make it back, but He knew we were halted in our progress if we stayed safe and sound with Him. So he sent us here to prove us herewith and give us the keys to eternal life.
 

Our mortal fathers are much the same way, they realize at some point that we each must leave the nest and try our wings. I'm grateful for the role of all the fathers in my life. Men and gods who have given up so much to see me happy, healthy and well taken care of. The role of father is so imperative in the life of a child. I'm so very thankful for so many men who step forward to live that role courageously, for their many sleepless nights wondering how they will provide for their families and so many long hours making sure they do. Sometimes I wonder how many sleepless nights the Lord has seen us through and our Father in Heaven still metaphorically goes through with each of us. No matter our situation or circumstance we are so very loved.

What are we holding onto?

 I've been dealing with some inner turmoil the last week or two, turmoil that most people in the middle of transitions face. I'm just really struggling with loving my body in its current state and loving my purpose, because right now I'm feeling very stuck. Each time I bring something new to the Lord he tells me to wait. With the summer half over (ish) and trying to figure out which future I am to build I'm feeling very much at loose ends. I'd so love to go on and get my masters and eventually do my PHD. I'd love to do research to my hearts content, late evening discussions about religion, education, toleration, perceptions of others and class. If not that then perhaps a phlebotomist or a job coach. Yet each new thought is met with a "just wait". My response to that just wait is, "what then"? You'd think about waiting nine months for a mission call, two years and 4 months for a wedding and seven years to graduate with a bachelors you'd think I'd be better with waiting. When I pause long enough between jumping from idea to idea I realize that Heavenly Father already has my future in motion. I think back to every job I've had so far in my life and somehow each time I have found myself in need of employment, the right opportunity always presented itself right when I needed. I need to have that same sort of faith now. Heavenly Father has a way of making all things right, but we need to give him the time to do so.

The other part of my mind that is causing me pain is seeing the wickedness in the world and feeling so powerless to stop or fix it. Every time I turn on the computer I am bombarded by wicked intent. Whether the news and hearing about a shooting or hate crime, or youtube and having nudity on adds when I'm trying to watch Studio C. In a world that seems full of chaos Satan would have us feel that we are powerless, that we are suffering bystanders that must simply watch as our world goes crazy. I don't know that any number of petitions or facebook posts with change minds. Though doing those things shows the Lord we will stand for truth and righteousness in all things and places and is an important part of us remaining un-spotted from the world. Just as important as those things is to realize that us holding that what is sacred dear to ourselves and keeping the faith and cultivating hope that this chaos and wickedness is just a small moment is also so important for our spiritual stamina. I so love these lines from Return of the King that remind us there are good things to hold onto.

FRODO: I can’t do this, Sam.
SAM: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy. How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened.
But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t. Because they were holding on to something.
FRODO: What are we holding on to, Sam?
SAM: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.

In a world of hatred, confusion, fear, name calling and subliminal messaging what are we holding onto? We are holding onto a God in heaven who loves us, a Savior who atoned for us, a plan we supported before coming to this earth and a purpose we've covenanted to fulfill. The darkness may seem overpowering, but there is a light shining, it is filling the whole earth and the Lord's kingdom will come off conqueror. What are we holding onto? We are holding onto faith that there will be a brighter tomorrow, that God is in his heaven and all is well in the world. We are known, we are loved and we are never left alone.

The Race

Today has been a very powerful day for me as I have begun to realize just how important family truly is. I have always loved Memorial Day, wandering through the cemetery and learning the stories of my ancestors, those coming from across the sea for love of the Gospel, some almost losing their children for it. Yet after attending the funeral of my great uncle on Friday and reading the life story of my own grandpa today I'm realizing these aren't just stories of men and women from long ago that are interesting to pass down, no these are the stories of great men who sacrificed much for their country and the gospel and who have faced so much tribulation with a smile on their face. 

I have some very amazing great aunts who wanted to make sure that I knew who their brother (my grandfather) was even though he died when I was too young to remember him. Today I learned about his dedication to his callings, his love of farming and his desire to remain out of debt. I learned about a man who suffered through multiple bouts of cancer and lymphoma, who almost missed his youngest sons wedding due to radiation treatments, but because of the love and effort of so many, especially his wife that he made it to the sealing. I learned of a husband and wife who dedicated themselves completely to each other, who worked and served whole-heartedly in the hopes of somehow lightening the burden of the other. I learned of giving everything you have to overcome obstacles and to keep laughing, even when you fall and break your back.

Reading this story I saw quite a few parallels with my own life, perhaps not the exact experiences, but relatable feelings and even I have a back with its own set of special issues. We all have trials and tribulations, things that make us hurt, things that seem tax us, things that can overwhelm us. Reading how my dear grandparents handled it and how their siblings and my parents and aunts and uncles helped, gave me a whole new perspective on my family legacy, I am so grateful for that legacy of faith and endurance, humor, love and sacrifice.

The veil is so thin, the more we learn of those who have gone before us, the more we will recognize their presence still in our lives. Those taken from us on this side of the veil are still there encouraging us and aiding us in our time of need. They might have graduated from their education in mortality, but they are still connected to us and perhaps more aware of us now that they are no longer distracted by temporal things. Our dear Savior Jesus Christ, who has suffered our pain and sorrow and has seen our joy and hope provides his love and tender mercies through families. He who knows our every need has provided a plan that we will always be taken care of in our time of need. There truly are "angels among us sent down to us from somewhere up above" (Alabama). There may come a time when we will be even more aware of their love and efforts in our lives. 

This is a poem my great aunts found, they say this is my grandfather to a tee. I'm grateful for their love and the opportunity to learn more of this man who gave me so much, an example of how to just keep going with a smile. I love you grandpa

The Race

 

Whenever I start to hang my head in front of failure’s face,
    my downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.
A children’s race, young boys, young men; how I remember well,
    excitement sure, but also fear, it wasn’t hard to tell.
They all lined up so full of hope, each thought to win that race
    or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.
Their parents watched from off the side, each cheering for their son,
    and each boy hoped to show his folks that he would be the one.

The whistle blew and off they flew, like chariots of fire,
    to win, to be the hero there, was each young boy’s desire.
One boy in particular, whose dad was in the crowd,
    was running in the lead and thought “My dad will be so proud.”
But as he speeded down the field and crossed a shallow dip,
    the little boy who thought he’d win, lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself, his arms flew everyplace,
    and midst the laughter of the crowd he fell flat on his face.
As he fell, his hope fell too; he couldn’t win it now.
    Humiliated, he just wished to disappear somehow.

But as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face,
    which to the boy so clearly said, “Get up and win that race!”
He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit that’s all,
    and ran with all his mind and might to make up for his fall.
So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,
    his mind went faster than his legs. He slipped and fell again.
He wished that he had quit before with only one disgrace.
    “I’m hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn’t try to race.”

But through the laughing crowd he searched and found his father’s face
    with a steady look that said again, “Get up and win that race!”
So he jumped up to try again, ten yards behind the last.
    “If I’m to gain those yards,” he thought, “I’ve got to run real fast!”
Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight, then ten...
    but trying hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again.
Defeat! He lay there silently. A tear dropped from his eye.
    “There’s no sense running anymore! Three strikes I’m out! Why try?
I’ve lost, so what’s the use?” he thought. “I’ll live with my disgrace.”
    But then he thought about his dad, who soon he’d have to face.

“Get up,” an echo sounded low, “you haven’t lost at all,
    for all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
Get up!” the echo urged him on, “Get up and take your place!
    You were not meant for failure here! Get up and win that race!”
So, up he rose to run once more, refusing to forfeit,
    and he resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn’t quit.
So far behind the others now, the most he’d ever been,
    still he gave it all he had and ran like he could win.
Three times he’d fallen stumbling, three times he rose again.
    Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.

They cheered another boy who crossed the line and won first place,
    head high and proud and happy -- no falling, no disgrace.
But, when the fallen youngster crossed the line, in last place,
    the crowd gave him a greater cheer for finishing the race.
And even though he came in last with head bowed low, unproud,
    you would have thought he’d won the race, to listen to the crowd.
And to his dad he sadly said, “I didn’t do so well.”
    “To me, you won,” his father said. “You rose each time you fell.”

And now when things seem dark and bleak and difficult to face,
    the memory of that little boy helps me in my own race.
For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all.
    And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
And when depression and despair shout loudly in my face,
    another voice within me says, “Get up and win that race!”

D.H. Groberg