Matthew 18:3-4 ...Verily I say unto you, except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.
Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
I received a beautiful page a day calendar this year from my son's boyfriend. It's a page of day of great books. I've decided to do some writing each day about great books and scriptural connections. I've always been fascinated by the intertextual connection between scriptures and great literature. Scripture has often been a primary source for settings, plots, characters, imagery and language.
....so, here we go!
Ahab's hunt for the white whale becomes a struggle against God's will...mirroring biblical tales of rebellion and search for meaning.
Ahab, the main character, has a wooden leg because his original leg was bitten off by a whale. He spends his life seeking revenge for this. However, maybe he was always in pursuit of what was lost....like we have a yearning to always return to God.
In the end, he is dragged to the bottom of the ocean to his death. Eeesh! I wonder if Ahab ever realized that he can't actually be the one in charge. There is something much bigger than him. Many of us go searching and searching for amazing wonders to fulfill us - when in fact, we need to turn inward to find fulfillment.
Matthew 6:33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.
Jeremiah 29:13 And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.
I have a friend who is slowly returning to the church. I have met with her a few times. We have talked about what she thinks she needs to do to strengthen her testimony. She has been less active long enough that she feels like she needs to start from the beginning again and thought that maybe she should meet with the missionaries. The next time I met with her, she told me the missionaries had texted her some scriptures and spiritual thoughts. I hadn't asked them to do that.
Georgia O'Keefe: Nobody sees a flower, really. It is so small. We haven't time and to see, takes time. When we pause to see what's around us, I mean really see it, it not only broadens our awareness, it enriches our lives.
-delighted by the details
-slow down and digest the details
How perceptive are you?
Do you mindfully observe your surroundings?
Do you rush through on to your next...whatever?
Could you start to carry a metaphorical sketchpad?
Learn to stop and SEE the roses, in addition to smelling them.
I woke up the other night with an analogy on my mind that stole my sleep. It spoke to me plainly, as though I was having a conversation with someone directly.
I was carrying a big rock. It was heavy and hard to handle. People kept asking me to do things that meant I couldn't put the rock down. I'd smile and do the best I could - but physically, it was almost doing me in. I kept telling myself I was crazy to keep carrying this rock, but the truth was, I had no choice.
I carried it through teaching adults and children. I carried it in meetings where we talked about the rock. I carried it while I was bowling. I carried it while having to talk to crowds about all the great things going on. I would ask if I could put it down every time - but people would smile and shake their heads and tell me I'd figure it out. They'd try to ignore the rock mostly, but now and then would ask how it's going carrying that rock. I asked if I could have some tools to help me with this rock. I asked if I could have some time to figure out how to put it down. All the time, the answer was, "Sorry. You have to figure out how to do more than one thing at a time."
Tonight I finally put down the rock. I'm going to have to figure out how to break this rock into pieces so that my sciatic nerve doesn't rebel against me for a month ever again.
This is a big topic in politics these days with the Republic party banning abortion in many states. I'm opposed to the government making these kinds of decisions for individuals.
While I'm not a supporter of abortion, I believe abortion should be legal. Without it being legal, we couldn't even follow the church handbook, which states that it can be considered as an option after consultation with the right people.
A discussion with someone who totally disagrees with me got me thinking.
If a person has an abortion, what happens to that spirit. Is that it? Is that there one chance at an earthly experience? That doesn't seem like the plan of a loving God.
I think that God's plan is merciful and logical. I don't see how one person's choice could wipe out another's opportunity for an earthly sojourn.
I read a book a while ago called The Motivation Myth. He talked about planning for a day where you accomplish a ton. I decided to take Monster Energy out of the title because the fact is, I don't have a monster amount of energy. However, I can plug away at things. Yesterday was the day. Here's a summary of how it went:
Job #1 was hem the living room curtains. I've had them pinned for a couple months and they needed one more turn. I was going to hand stitch them but then decided that was a crazy idea. I brought the ironing board upstairs, pinned them at the right height and checked to make sure it was right. After that, I took them downstairs and sewed them. I thought it would be a super quick job and scheduled and hour for it and it took the whole hour.
I am happy to say that grade 3 book club has been resurrected and will run this year!
It has got me thinking about all the book banning going on in the world. I read a great J fiction novel called Ban This Book with my Children's Lit Book Club that also got me thinking about book banning.
I have had times where parents have come to me about a book they were concerned about. In every instance, they had not read the book. I listened to their concerns and then asked them to read the book. In every case, they decided they weren't as concerned about it.
Books I have discussed with parents after they share their concerns:
Number the Stars (Lois Lowry)
Skellig (David Almond)
Harry Potter (JK Rowling)
Dogman (Dav Pilkey)
Captain Underpants (Dav Pilkey)
....there are a lot more they would probably do well to have a conversation about - but these are the specific ones I have discussed with parents.
Common Sense Media is a good website to check to see if books are appropriate for the classroom - but I have also had many times where if I had listened to what they had to say, I would have missed some great books.
Examples:
The One and Only Ivan: A beautifully well-written book that will likely become a classic. Common Sense Media says there is violence in it. It is a part where Ivan reflects on leaving Africa.
Who is responsible for most of the book banning in 2023?
When Biden was rumored to be dropping out of the running for president, people started talking about how it was illegal for the Democratic party to replace their candidate without the usual running of multiple candidates, debates and voting.
However, it seems they're wrong, for a few reasons:
1. Biden wasn't yet the official nominee. He was only the presumptive Nominee.
2. Biden's name was not on any ballots yet. Usually, the names are sent to states after the convention, which we know, had not happened yet when Biden stepped down.
3. Legal experts agree: Biden didn't break any laws. Besides, didn't Trump just get a Supreme Court Case saying that presidents are immune from prosecution for official acts?
But what about the voters?
Supreme Court law actually states that parties set the rules on how they choose a leader. There aren't federal laws that dictate what parties can and cannot do.
"The people" don't vote on federal candidates. Electors do.
The primary system that is now in place was adopted in 1972. There weren't party elections like we see today prior to the 20th century.
Resources:
Politifact article on Trump's immunity case
A PennState article that consulted law experts on the nomination process and funding rules.
Library of Congress article on how the nomination process works.
In our church, when boys turn 12, they get to pass the sacrament to the congregation. For one boy in our congregation, this was not a day he looked forward to. He was really nervous about it. To help him out, his dad stood with him. He'd follow him around the chapel and direct him to where he needed to go next. It was so heart-warming to see a dad support his son like that so that he could have the chance to do the things all the boys do.
I often think of this when I have to do things that are uncomfortable. Sometimes I think about it too much. In From Strength to Strength, the author talks about going ziplining as an older adult. He stood on the platform quite scared out of his wits. The young adult working there said to him, "Dude, don't think. Just do it!"
I think that's a good motto for life. It seems like these days with all the concerns about mental health, we often don't push ourselves (or others) to do things that are hard...but we should do hard things! If we do not, we don't grow.
On a day before Christmas in 2018, Jim and I were planning to deliver plates of treats to the closest of our friends that evening and, as I was waking up that morning, into my mind came a scene I had witnessed at our ward party in September. We had a pancake breakfast outside at the Stake Centre pavillion and for a treat I took a jar of chokecherry syrup. Towards the end of the breakfast, I looked to where they were serving and saw Patrick Roach shaking the empty jar trying to get the very last drop of that syrup onto his pancake as if he would like to wring the jar. It made me laugh; I thought he must love chokecherry syrup very much.
We had at that time before Christmas, three very small jars of chokecherry syrup in the pantry. I had intended them to be jelly but they had refused to jell. I asked what he wanted to do with them since he is the one who loves chokecherry and he had asked for jelly. He said he thought I should empty the jars and cook it over. I thought about it, but knew if I was going to do jelly again, I would just start from scratch with chokecherry juice. I understood Jim's opinion since he had syrup already and wanted some jelly. I subsequently made new jelly and those small jars just sat there taking room in the pantry.
As I woke up that December morning with that vision of Patrick Roach in my head, it seemed like a sign. I decided that I could give him those jars to Patrick Roach. So, when I got up, I tied some curly red and green ribbon around the lid of each jar and stuck a Christmas sticker on top. Then I bagged them and added them to the collection of Christmas cookies we were taking out that night. It was dark when I rang the Roach's doorbell. When Tekarra came to the door, I held out the bag and said I had come to give it to Patrick. She called him and then looked into the bag. Her mouth fell open when she saw what was in there. With round eyes, she asked in wonderment, "How did you know?"
She told me that Patrick had lost his job two years before and was having difficulty finding another. In addition, he had a serious helath problem and had just received some troubling news about it. As he and Tekarra drove home from the doctor's appointment, he had said, "For Christmas, all I want is chokecherry syrup." She tried to find some but it is not to be had commercially. She tried at least one friend whom she knew made it at home, but her friend had none. She went ot the grocery store to at least look. The closest thing she found was raspberry syrup, so she bought a jar. Patrick looked at it sadly and thanked her for trying, but raspberry was just not the same.
That was what she meant when she said, "How did you know?" I had to reply to her that I knew nothing about their situation, but God did and He also knew I had those three jars of syrup. He told me Patrick needed that syrup in a way I could understand. I said, "Patrick can be certain that God knows and loves him."
Tekarra has since told this story in Sunday School in our ward, once at a Stake Relief Society event, and at Good Sam's in Raymond when I was there for our Relief Society social this year. The Roaches consider this their Christmas miracle and revisit the story each Christmas. I take no credit at all for my part in it. Christmas is a time of miracles.
The time was Christmas 1968. We were newly married, for only two months. My parents wanted us to come for Christmas dinner; my mother was a marvelous cook and I couldn't miss her special dinner. Jim and I celebrated Christmas morning together opening gifts and remembering God's greatest gift to us. Then we set out for Scandia for dinner, to be about two o'clock.
The weather was terrible, a consistent minus 40, as it had been for three weeks. The heater in our car wasn't working so it was a cold trip from Calgary to Scandia. But we arrived safely and had a wonderful dinner and visit with my parents. We stayed for several days.
My father had had some real financial setbacks that had begun several years before while I was still in high school. There had appeared in the country a new form of blackleg which the vaccines we had given our cattle did not prevent. I remember him coming in from feeding the cattle many mornings dejected and discouraged, having found yet another steer dead in the feedlot, its leg stiffly in the air. In attempting to recover financially, he had purchased a couple of purebred Polled Herefore cows and a bull, no small investment, as purebred cattle were very expensive. His plan was to sell the offspring of these animals for prices sufficient to pay his debts.
Besides the farm where we lived, my dad also owned a quarter section about a mile south. No one lived there but where he had cattle pastured. The next day after breakfast, my brother Herb, who had gone to the other farm to feed the cattle, came running in shouting for us to come and help. Two cows had fallen into the stock pond and he needed everyone. We thought that ice had formed on the pond overnight and, in an effort to get a drink of water, they had strayed onto the ice and fallen through. Herb was a big man, but not big enough to pull a cow out of the water by himself.
My dad, mom, Herb and Jim and I piled into vehicles and raced out. When we got there, we could see that my brother had roped the most valuable cow, the rope still around her neck. We all grabbed onto the rope and together we pulled, like a giant game of tug of water. It soon became obvious that the cow was winning. When we pulled, she just leaned back agains the rope and we were no match. It was so cold, and the water so cold that soon she began to just lie down; she had given up. We knew it was now hopeless. My dad called me to drive back to the house and call a couple of neighbors to see if anyone had a tractor that would start in the extreme cold. It seemed a last resort, and an unlikely one at best, because of the time it would take, even if we were lucky enough to find an operating tractor.
I jumped into the car and started sobbing as I drove. I prayed with all my heart and pleased with Heavenly Father to help my dad. I said how much I loved him, that I had seen him help so many people, and though he didn't attend meetings, his heart was right and he had always done everything he could to support me and others who needed help. I really pleaded with Him to somehow help that cow to safety because only He could.
When I got to the house, I phoned the closest neighbors and did find one with a tractor, but he said itw as so cold they hadn't been able to get it to start. I went to deliver the bad news. When I got to the pond, everyone was standing together in wonder and not saying much. I was astounded to see that both cows were gone from the pond. When I asked what happened, someone explained with great wonder, that suddenly the cow that we had been pulling on had just stood up and climbed out of the water and up the bank of the pond. They still couldn't believe or explain it. After that, they roped the other cow and together, with her trying to help, got out too.
Anyone who has worked with cows knows that once that cow started to lie down in the water, the chances of getting her out were next to nil. Only God could do it. It was truly a Christmas miracle and an answer to my heartfelt cry for help.
Recently, it was announced that our superintendent is retiring. I was excited to hear this news. Then I felt a little guilty about being excited. It wasn't because I delight in our superintendent leaving. I think he's a really great guy actually. One thing I have always appreciated about him is that he actually knows my name! However, I do always really look forward to changes like this though because it's exciting to see the dominoes fall....assuming someone within the organization is chosen as the new superintendent. Time will tell!
How do you respond to change?
Do you get angry and talk about how the changemakers are wrong?
Do you grumble when you have to do things differently?
Could you hold off and give it a try?
When I was 12, I graduated from primary, the children's program at church. Usually, all the girls who had turned 12 then started to volunteer in the nursery. They loved helping adults look after the babies. This was my plan. I was really looking forward to it. However, the powers that be asked if I would be the pianist for the children's singing time. I was not impressed.
I had started taking piano lessons when I was 8. I was not a gifted pianist and I knew that accompanying singing time would require some work and practice. At that time, primary was after school each day so my avoidance strategy was to just not come straight home from school. My mother took umbrage with this and gave me a LONG lecture about how she had paid for piano lessons and I was being disrespectful and no daughter of hers....you know how that goes.
I started playing the piano for primary.
I really don't even remember the experience of playing the piano there. Judging from seeing other people take on this assignment, my guess is I bumbled through a lot of songs and really wasn't very good at it. I'm sure there were plenty of people who could have done the job way better than I did. However, it was something that changed my life.
We moved away from that house to another province when I was 13. I continued to take piano lessons. I continued to accompany for various choirs and congregations at church. Eventually, I even played the organ for sacrament meetings.
Fast forward to today. Accompanying on the piano is something that I can do on a second's notice. I am very comfortable with all the hymns and children's music. I also play the organ. I'm still no gfited pianist. I really don't practice enough and now and then I get asked to play songs that are beyond my skills or the time I have to practice. However, it doesn't make me nervous and I can do it quite easily and readily.
If I hadn't tried when I was 12, I wonder where I'd be now.
If you think something isn't worth your while, consider holding on to your reticence just for a moment. Keeping an open mind can pay off in the long run. Put your trust in God and just give it a try. He certainly has extended my abilities.
“There is a thing that sometimes happens in rowing that is hard to achieve and hard to define. Many crews, even winning crews, never really find it. Others find it but can’t sustain it. It’s called ‘swing.’ It only happens when all eight oarsmen are rowing in such perfect unison that no single action by any one is out of synch with those of all the others….But the closer a crew can come to that ideal — maintaining a good swing while rowing at a high rate — the closer they are to rowing on another plane, the plane on which champions row.”
—Daniel James Brown, The Boys in the Boat
This year my word is "swing". I was reminded of it when we went to see the movie, The Boys In the Boat, on Christmas day. I keep finding quotes that go well with it. It is about unity, mercy, kindness and understanding other people.
The movie is about a rowing team from the University of Washington in the1930s. I read the book years ago and about 'swing', it says:
There is a thing that sometimes happens that is hard to achieve and hard to define. It’s called “swing.” It happens only when all are rowing in such perfect unison that not a single action is out of sync.
Rowers must rein in their fierce independence and at the same time hold true to their individual capabilities. Races are not won by clones. Good crews are good blends—someone to lead the charge, someone to hold something in reserve, someone to fight the fight, someone to make peace. No rower is more valuable than another, all are assets to the boat, but if they are to row well together, each must adjust to the needs and capabilities of the others—the shorter-armed person reaching a little farther, the longer-armed person pulling in just a bit.
Differences can be turned to advantage instead of disadvantage. Only then will it feel as if the boat is moving on its own. Only then does pain entirely give way to exultation. Good “swing” feels like poetry.
As John Coleman explains in the Harvard Business Review, programs like One Network, One Book have significant benefits for large organizations: “The act of reading in community can help you read more deeply and better understand diverse perspectives.” At the same time, Coleman notes, the book discussions themselves empower employees to “build and reinforce relationships” that they otherwise might not form. Simply put, book clubs make an organization stronger.
Here’s what I’ve seen “swing” look like in the highest-performing schools.
First, there’s a sense of unison. Teachers, students, parents, and administrators all share an understanding of what the school is about: what it values, how it plans to meet its goals, the strategies it uses to understand what works well in the building and what doesn’t. In these schools everything—whether instructional time or professional development or PTA fundraising—is organized to support specific, agreed-upon goals for teaching and learning.
Second, there’s a strong social fabric of trust. Everyone has total confidence that the others are pulling their weight. Everyone knows that if something goes wrong, they can count on the others to help fix it. At my sons’ elementary school, I knew that no matter what, my kids would be valued and smart people would find solutions to any challenges.
Third, there’s joy. No amount of strategic planning or performance evaluation or project-based curricula can succeed in a school where kids don’t feel good about themselves, their class, or schoolmates, where their teachers just punch a timesheet rather than inspire in their students a hunger for intellectualism and learning, where parents feel disconnected or unwelcome. I’ve been in both joyful schools and joyless schools; the difference is immediately apparent.
https://heartheboatsing.com/2018/03/08/pulling-against-the-stream-historic-images-of-womens-rowing/
