Linger

My friend posted this on her Facebook page. She and her husband served a mission in Spain and they now serve in a singles ward, where Grant serves as the Bishop. (Update - they now serve as mission leaders in the Philippines)

"16 days of spontaneous, non-stop worship happened at the Asbury revival in Kentucky last month. It started with a group of 20 students who stayed after a weekly service to pray, sing and worship.

It’s estimated that over 50,000 people came to participate in this gathering (auditorium capacity 1,500) from around the country and world. It all started with a few who stayed…

I’ve thought about staying, the lingering, and why it matters. In our church, we have what’s called a “linger longer” for our young adults (age 18-30) It gives us time to stay a little longer and get to know others in our congregation.

Back in the early 70’s when I was a young girl, I attended a linger longer with my Aunt Gloria after church. For me it was all about the cupcakes and the sandwiches. I still remember the adults busily setting out food. Then sitting around tables, talking, laughing and listening to each other.

I read this quote in an article and it has been replaying in my mind “Asbury Revivals give permission to the world saying, "it's okay to go beyond the limits of expectations and time. For those who are hungry, there's more. You don't need to shut down the building and close the doors when the church service is over. It's okay to linger, and look what might happen when you do...”

This quote refers more to the spiritual side of why we linger. Whether that’s in the hallway or parking lot or around a table with a plate of food, it’s given me something to think about.

I believe many are looking for Jesus Christ and that’s what happened in Wilmore Kentucky last month. Instead of rushing out of church today let’s look for ways to linger just a little longer "

I responded that  love this ... we don't linger enough! I am a lingerer! When I was young in Canada we used to linger between our church sessions which were held in the morning and at night and when it was District (Stake Conference) we would linger with food between sessions as people came quite a distance for church. We grew to know each other and to love each other. Great memories!

Life is often Hard It is Probably Supposed to Be

  I have recently come to understand the atonement in my life more fully. I know it is about being lifted up. I know it is about forgiveness. I know it is about my Savior and what he can and must do for me after all I have done, but I have come to understand it is more. It is personal on a daily basis. Intellectually I have taught and talked about the Atonement of Jesus Christ. It can take aways sorrow and pain and anguish but I didn't think of it personally. I didn't think I was there, but I am and I am learning daily how much I am there. For me it has taken away that same sorry and pain and anguish, but it has taken away embarrassment, and hurt and inadequacies and things I think aren't fair .... As I have asked for it it has lifted burdens and given me peace and confidence or at least some confidence. When I feel the atonement it gives me worth. I do need it on a daily basis, but then again maybe I do and it is I who has to realize those moments.

 In my phone I keep lists and one of my compilations notes, those things I have come to notice the atonement covers; fear, embarrassment, rejection, shame. self blame. self hatred, loneliness, anguish, sickness, weakness, regrets, remorse, emotional distress .... a beginning and important partial list!

"And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind, and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people. And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death, which bind his people

The Errand of Angels is Given to Women ...

The lyrics to a song in my hymnbook are,

As sisters in Zion, we'll all work together; The blessings of God on our labors we'll seek. We'll build up his kingdom with earnest endeavor; We'll comfort the weary and strengthen the weak.

The errand of angels is given to women; And this is a gift that, as sisters we claim: To do what-so-ever is gentle and human, To cheer and to bless in humanity's nake

How vast is our purpose, how broad is our mission, If we but fulfill it in spirit and deed. Oh, naught but the Spirit's divinest tuition Can give us the wisdom to truly succeed.

I belong to one of the oldest and largest women's organizations in the world. I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and I am a member of the Relief Society organization. Someone has said, "Relief Society isn't where we go, it is who we are!" I love that! I AM Relief Society. The three-fold purpose of Relief Society is to strengthen faith and personal righteousness, strengthen family and provide relief by seeking out and helping those in need. Can you think of any greater purposes of any organizations. Today at my church I was deeply moved by a number of things. First,  a beautiful woman, Ruth,  told the story of her mother, in fact, the spouse of my blog, A Giant in My Neighborhood. She too is a giant in her own right, but today her status in my eyes grew by leaps and bounds. The daughter touched my soul ... she testified with such strength and humility. She and her mother are angels. She said that when she was a child, living in Japan, she learned from her mother's service. At least twice a week her mother would make meals for those in her church who needed food or support. The boundaries of their congregation or ward were large and her mother did not drive, so after the meals were made she would put her son on her back or in the stroller and they, four children and one mother, would either walk or take public transportation to deliver these meals to those who were in need. Twice a week ... walk or take a bus ... Not only did she care for her own young family she sought out and took care of many, many others. In that single act she fulfilled all three purposes of Relief Society and what should be purposes of our lives; she strengthened her faith and her family's faith and sought out and helped those in need. I think she accomplished much more ... because her acts were magnificient teaching moments, as evidenced in the lives of her family. Our world concerns itself with the the acrument of awards and fame and things. This woman would not be found in the halls of fame, and she seeks neither reward or recognition. She knows what is important to herself, her family and to her Father in Heaven ... that is where she puts her time. A giant, a giant wife and a giant daughter ... I love them all and I am so grateful they are my neighbors and sisters ... they are so humble, yet so powerful; so quiet, yet so loud, so unassuming, yet so assumed; so loving and so loved ...

The Daffodil Principle

This is the time of year for daffodils. Mine are trying to survive the daily onslaught of different forms of weather rain, sleet, snow and occasionally sun. The daffodil is often associated with "the resurrection of Jesus Christ and the hope of a new life. Hopefully it says spring and summer are just around the corner, so this story has many implications.

Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, “Mother, you must come and see the daffodils before they are over.” I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead. Going and coming took most of a day–and I honestly did not have a free day until the following week.

“I will come next Tuesday, ” I promised, a little reluctantly, on her third call. 

Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and so I drove the length of Route 91, continued on I-215, and finally turned onto Route 18 and began to drive up the mountain highway. The tops of the mountains were sheathed in clouds, and I had gone only a few miles when the road was completely covered with a wet, gray blanket of fog. I slowed to a crawl, my heart pounding. The road becomes narrow and winding toward the top of the mountain. 

As I executed the hazardous turns at a snail’s pace, I was praying to reach the turnoff at Blue Jay that would signify I had arrived. When I finally walked into Carolyn’s house and hugged and greeted my grandchildren I said, “Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in the clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these darling children that I want to see bad enough to drive another inch!”

My daughter smiled calmly,” We drive in this all the time, Mother.”

“Well, you won’t get me back on the road until it clears–and then I’m heading for home!” I assured her.

“I was hoping you’d take me over to the garage to pick up my car. The mechanic just called, and they’ve finished repairing the engine,” she answered.

“How far will we have to drive?” I asked cautiously.

“Just a few blocks,” Carolyn said cheerfully.

So we buckled up the children and went out to my car. “I’ll drive,” Carolyn offered. “I’m used to this.” We got into the car, and she began driving.

In a few minutes, I was aware that we were back on the Rim-of-the-World Road heading over the top of the mountain. “Where are we going?” I exclaimed, distressed to be back on the mountain road in the fog. “This isn’t the way to the garage!”

“We’re going to my garage the long way,” Carolyn smiled, “by way of the daffodils.”

“Carolyn,” I said sternly, trying to sound as if I was still the mother and in charge of the situation, “please turn around. There is nothing in the world that I want to see enough to drive on this road in this weather.”

“It’s all right, Mother,” She replied with a knowing grin. “I know what I’m doing. I promise you will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience.”

And so my sweet, darling daughter who had never given me a minute of difficulty in her whole life was suddenly in charge — and she was kidnapping me! I couldn’t believe it. Like it or not, I was on the way to see some ridiculous daffodils — driving through the thick, gray silence of the mist-wrapped mountaintop at what I thought was a risk to life and limb.

I muttered all the way. After about twenty minutes we turned onto a small gravel road that branched down into an oak-filled hollow on the side of the mountain. The Fog had lifted a little, but the sky was lowering, gray and heavy with clouds. 

We parked in a small parking lot adjoining a little stone church. From our vantage point at the top of the mountain, we could see beyond us, in the mist, the crests of the San Bernardino range like the dark, humped backs of a herd of elephants. Far below us the fog-shrouded valleys, hills, and flatlands stretched away to the desert.

On the far side of the church, I saw a pine-needle-covered path, with towering evergreens and manzanita bushes and an inconspicuous, lettered sign “Daffodil Garden.”

We each took a child’s hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path as it wound through the trees. The mountain sloped away from the side of the path in irregular dips, folds, and valleys, like a deeply creased skirt.

Live oaks, mountain laurel, shrubs, and bushes clustered in the folds, and in the gray, drizzling air, the green foliage looked dark and monochromatic. I shivered. Then we turned a corner of the path, and I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight, unexpectedly and completely splendid. It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it down over the mountain peak and slopes where it had run into every crevice and over every rise. Even in the mist-filled air, the mountainside was radiant, clothed in massive drifts and waterfalls of daffodils. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron, and butter yellow.

Each different-colored variety (I learned later that there were more than thirty-five varieties of daffodils in the vast display) was planted as a group so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue.

In the center of this incredible and dazzling display of gold, a great cascade of purple grape hyacinth flowed down like a waterfall of blossoms framed in its own rock-lined basin, weaving through the brilliant daffodils. A charming path wound throughout the garden. There were several resting stations, paved with stone and furnished with Victorian wooden benches and great tubs of coral and carmine tulips. As though this were not magnificence enough, Mother Nature had to add her own grace note — above the daffodils, a bevy of western bluebirds flitted and darted, flashing their brilliance. These charming little birds are the color of sapphires with breasts of magenta red. As they dance in the air, their colors are truly like jewels above the blowing, glowing daffodils. The effect was spectacular.

It did not matter that the sun was not shining. The brilliance of the daffodils was like the glow of the brightest sunlit day. Words, wonderful as they are, simply cannot describe the incredible beauty of that flower-bedecked mountaintop. 

Five acres of flowers! (This too I discovered later when some of my questions were answered.) “But who has done this?” I asked Carolyn. I was overflowing with gratitude that she brought me — even against my will. This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

“Who?” I asked again, almost speechless with wonder, “And how, and why, and when?” 

“It’s just one woman,” Carolyn answered. “She lives on the property. That’s her home.” Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house that looked small and modest in the midst of all that glory.

We walked up to the house, my mind buzzing with questions. On the patio, we saw a poster. ” Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking” was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. “50,000 bulbs,” it read. The second answer was, “One at a time, by one woman, two hands, two feet, and very little brain.” The third answer was, “Began in 1958.”

There it was. The Daffodil Principle.

For me that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than thirty-five years before, had begun — one bulb at a time — to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. One bulb at a time.

There was no other way to do it. One bulb at a time. No shortcuts — simply loving the slow process of planting. Loving the work as it unfolded.

Loving an achievement that grew so slowly and that bloomed for only three weeks of each year. Still, just planting one bulb at a time, year after year had changed the world.

This unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. She had created something of ineffable magnificence, beauty, and inspiration.

The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration: learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time — often just one baby-step at a time — learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time.

When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world.

“Carolyn,” I said that morning on the top of the mountain as we left the haven of daffodils, our minds and hearts still bathed and bemused by the splendors we had seen, “it’s as though that remarkable woman has needle-pointed the earth! Decorated it. Just think of it, she planted every single bulb for more than thirty years. One bulb at a time! And that’s the only way this garden could be created. Every individual bulb had to be planted. There was no way of short-circuiting that process. Five acres of blooms. That magnificent cascade of hyacinth!

All, just one bulb at a time.”

The thought of it filled my mind. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the implications of what I had seen. “It makes me sad in a way,” I admitted to Carolyn. “What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five years ago and had worked away at it ‘one bulb at a time’ through all those years. Just think what I might have been able to achieve!”

My wise daughter put the car into gear and summed up the message of the day in her direct way. “Start today,” she said with the same knowing smile she had worn for most of the morning. Oh, profound wisdom!

It is pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson a celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask, “How can I put this to use today?”

Over thirty five years ago I had many goals. One was raising a healthy, happy eternal family centered on the Gospel of Jesus Christ. With God's help and the help of many, many others I knew it could be done and set about to put all I was and had into that incredible journey. I did not doubt but I also did not take into account the eternal principle of agency. It has been mostly a joyful journey but it is not without it's "bumps." I still know the Lord is in charge. He's got it!

Over thirty-five years ago I also began my search for ancestors and my desire that they be gathered. I can't believe it has been that long and is still going mostly strong. I have met and loved many people on this road and it has been such a blessing in my life and I hope in the lives of others, both here and there.  I can say I know my ancestors and they bring me great joy!

Now, are there other "daffodil principle" goals still to be accomplished in whatever time I have left in mortality. I need to consider more goals, but at this point I am wasting time. I believe this to be a full life, but only a prelude to the fullness to come. There is still much to see and feel! There are more bulbs to plant one at a time and that is how it is done one at a time! Oh, I would love to see those fields!

Look In Your Pocket!

Every month Martín’s parents took a trip to see Grandma and came home on the same train the next day.

One day the child said to his parents: ′′I'm already grown up.

Can I go to my grandma's alone?"

After a brief discussion, his parents accepted.

They stood with him as he waited for the train to exit.

They said goodbye to their son and gave him some tips through the window.

Martin repeated to them:

′′I know. I've been told this more than a thousand times."

As the train was about to leave, his father murmured in his ear:

′′Son if you feel bad or insecure, this is for you!"

And he put something in his pocket.

Now Martin was alone,

sitting on the train as he had wanted,

without his parents for the first time.

He was admiring the landscape out the window.

Around him some unknowns pushed themselves in.

They made a lot of noise.

They got in and out of the train car.

The conductor made some comments about him being alone.

One person looked at him with eyes of sadness.

Martin was feeling more uneasy with

every minute that passed.

And now he was scared.

He felt cornered and alone.

He put his head down, and

with tears in his eyes,

He remembered his dad had

Put something in his pocket.

Trembling, he searched for what his father had given him.

Upon finding the piece of paper he read it:

′′Son, I'm in the last train car!".

That's how life is,

We must let our kids go

We must let them try new things.

But we always like to be

In the last car, watching,

in case they are afraid

or in case they find obstacles and don’t know what to do.

We want to be close to them.

as long as we are still alive.

(Adapted from Unknown author)

I wish I could say that I am no longer in the last car, but I am! I don't really want to be. I didn't expect to be. It is exhausting most days, but I can't help but feel that our Father In Heaven is also exhausted because he is there with me and for me and for all my concerns. I believe he doesn't give up on me ... how can one person do all that for everyone? How can he endure that much pain and grief and sorrow and yes, hopefully JOY! So for my children and grandchildren look in your pocket ... He and I are in the last car and angels are seated around and beside you. This I believe!

I might add that I grew up in Canada and often would ride the train to my Grandparents farm near Saskatoon, Saskatchewan and to my cousins in Dryden, Ontario and other places. I love train stations and old glamourous train hotels and trains and cars. I have never before thought of who is in the last car!

"They Have Taken Away My Lord"

What must it have been like for Mary to witness an empty grave? Kelly Minter puts it beautifully in her article “Follow the Women at the Tomb:”

“Mary sat with her tears long enough to peer into the tomb and see something the men hadn’t seen. Angels. They asked her why she was crying. She gave the most telling answer: ‘They have taken away my Lord.’" (John 20:13)

But legends aside, one thing is certain. This woman held a special place in the story of Christianity and she was placed there by God. 

Through her eyes, we learn a little more about who Jesus was. He found her in her darkest place and healed her miraculously. She was one of His friends and a faithful follower. Mary’s actions perhaps spoke the loudest, supporting Jesus’ ministry with all she had to give. To what she thought was the bitter end, she gave her life to follow Him and care for Him. The sweetest note of her story is not knowing that her Savior stood before her in that empty grave. She was so side-swept by her grief that she didn’t realize He was standing before her.

https://www.biblestudytools.com/bible-study/topical-studies/who-was-mary-magdalene.html

Mary Magdalene, the one who had demons. Who was she! She was definitely a follower. Some, as noted above, say friend and confident of the Savior, the sister of Martha who "chose the better part," some even allude to a more intimate relationship with Jesus of Nazareth, maybe even bride to the bridegroom!

The point is, that Her Lord chose to first visit a woman, this woman and then as who she thought was a gardener " revealed himself to her as Jesus and he did so by simply calling her name." She came in haste, prepared to serve and to sanctify, she halted and looked inside the tomb ... she gave him time ... and then she was about her errand, a woman's errand to teach, to testify. 

This begs the questions; Am I prepared? Do I listen? Do I wait? Do I halt to receive a witness and Do I "Hear Him" as President Russell M. Nelson has encouraged us to do. Will I hear... Mary/Sharon?  And then do I run, go quickly, hasten to testify. Probably I am more Martha than Mary but I want to be both!

I do not and have not paid the price to Hear Him. It is something that I am constantly aware of and never coming closer to what I know I should do. A lifelong struggle! I know Jesus Christ is my Savior, my Redeemer, my Lord! I have a sign that I display at Christmas and Easter with all His names. I have a large statue of the resurrected Savior that is a part of all my holiday decorating. I know he was born of Mary and Joseph, such a tender man and father. I know he died on the cross to redeem me and the rest of humanity for our sins and to provide a way that I can return to my Father in Heaven, his Father. I don't know how but I know that he is leading us and the world to His glorious return. I know I need to prepare and Hear Him and I need to keep covenants and to teach and testify. This I believe!

You've got to swim faster!

I am very concerned with the fact that I no longer know or have the strength to swim, to save myself in water if needs be. I am heavy and actually feel panic when I try to swim. I water walk at the local recreation center at least twice a week and I think about it all the time. Sometimes I try to swim, but I end up flailing my arms and legs and reaching for the bottom of the pool with my feet. I have thought of getting a belt that I see others wear for buoyancy, but that wouldn't help if I was thrown over a ship or a boat I was in capsized.

I don't think I was ever a strong swimmer, even

Caddy Lake, Whiteshell, Manitoba

though as a high school student I taught "Small Fry" Swimming" at our local YMCA behind our school. I took swimming lessons at the pool on Sherbrooke Street in Winnipeg. I remember getting on the bus, even in freezing weather and walking the distance from Portage Avenue to the pool. It may have not been a long training period but I did earn a number of Red Cross swimming badges. We would have never had the money to pay for lessons so it was probably a Girl Guide experience. I went to Girl Guide Camp for a number of years at Caddy Lake in the Whiteshell, but I was never confident. I could jump off the dock and swim back
but I would never attempt a long distance swim. We went canoeing at camp and I was a little unsure of myself even then. I wanted to be a good swimmer but never felt I had the lung capacity or the breathing technique to be a good swimmer. Our province, Manitoba, prided itself as being the land of 100,000 lakes. How can you not swim when you have 100,000 lakes to chose from, most of them crystal clear and very cold. Just as a sidenote, my experience has been if there is a cute boy on the rocks whose family owns a cabin nearby, you can look like a very good swimmer and hopefully he can rescue you. My Auntie Letty would take me to Caddy Lake with her, where she kept a trailer and boat. It was an ideal summer when I was at the lake! My experience, but I have just digressed from a more important message.

As an adult, even in the lasts few years I have thought about getting a teacher and even talked to my neighbor Merlyn who is a swimming instructor. When I am riding the bike at the Rec Center I watch people, even heavy people, swimming in the pool. I am very aware of my inability to save myself or anyone else. I have said our youngest child Ashlyn charmed her way through swimming lessons and have even offered to pay for swimming lessons for her. She tells me that she knows how to swim, but I don't believe her and because of my life's experiences and my own anxiety I want all my children to be able to swim.

Last night I had a dream that I don't want to forget. That is why is is about 5:45 a.m. and I am up writing for the first time in a long, long time. It was about saving someone and my inability to swim. I was on an old ship and sitting near the front or the bow (In think). As I was sitting enjoying the horizon I saw a head of a young boy appear over the front edge of the ship. I am not sure where he came from, but he climbed up and eventually dropped into the boat. He was safe! I still feel a little of the anxiety I felt during the dream. It wasn't long after that a much younger boy's head also appeared over the edge. He was grasping the edge but he lost his grip before anyone could or would get to him and slipped all the way down the front of the ship and into the cold water below. I briefly looked around to see who was going to jump overboard and save the young boy, but realizing that no one was either there or no one was able or willing to go after him I dove over the side into the water below. The young boy was sinking. I was swimming as hard as I could, but I wasn't making much progress. I could also feel my fear of water taking hold of my body, but I just kept saying, " You've got to swim faster and deeper" and I tried to propel my body towards the little boy. I knew I couldn't do this on my own and knew that a higher power was helping me. I was in a state of panic,  but it was serving as a motivational force. I could feel my sheer determination to reach the little boy and save him and my sheer relief and joy as I reached for and pulled him up with me. I could also feel my need for breath. I remember the ascent to the surface with my one arm around his body and my desire to get something to elevate his temperature; a warm bath or towel or a change of clothes. I do not remember my need to warm myself. My only thought was for this tiny soul. There was no bath as we were on an old ship, but I could wrap him and hold him tightly and heat some water for at least a sponge bath ... and then I awoke, still feeling intense concern and that raised awareness that I really can't swim and shouldn't have been the one to plunge into the deep. I could have drowned if it hadn't been for the urgency and strength that I was given in this situation. I still feel my heart racing!

On a personal note, before I was married I went on a river rafting trip at Flaming Gorge, Utah and I fell over the front of the boat. The rope wrapped around my thigh and I couldn't get to the surface and we were headed towards rapids. I believed I would drown. A short time later I felt a hand reach down for me. I haven't thought about this for a long time but I insert it here as I have felt that saving power in my physical life and my spiritual life.

From the dream, I also realized that I would have done the same for any of my children who were physically or spiritually drowning. The anxiety would still be there, but I trust the Lord would provide me with the ability to go overboard and save each and every one that needed me. I also awoke with the awareness that I need to learn how to swim better, to prepare myself if I am called to the rescue. That is what we were called to do on our mission,go out and rescue. When I do family history I am literally rescuing, but what I am doing for my own family. Do I know how to save them. Yes, some might say, "They have to save themselves," but I still need to be able to swim and try and reach them, they need to be warm ...

If you feel like you are sinking and you need help know that the Lord has a plan for you. He knows you, he is right there to help. If you do not understand this plan someone from my church, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints can tell you about it.  https://www.comeuntochrist.org/ You are here on this earth as a reward for your righteous choices in the premortal world.  Your body and this life are His gift to you! Here is something to watch if maybe you have fallen overboard and are on the verge of drowning https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/media-library/video/2018-01-0060-reach-up-to-him-in-faith?lang=eng As I venture into the water, because no one else may or could, I have to swim faster and maybe deeper to help. Jumping overboard fills me with panic, but I would not hesitate and if I lost my life , so be it. THIS I BELIEVE! "And the king shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, in as much as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." This is the literal gathering of Israel. Who can I save!