A Month of Love

With the focus on Valentines Day during the month of February, we are reminded of one of the greatest commandments, to love one another as the Savior loves us. How can we truly understand the love the Savior has for each of us? We must learn about the Savior in order to love Him.

“What does Jesus look like?” my children have often asked. Like most “LDS homes” we have various pictures of the Savior on our walls. Popular LDS artists depict him in a similar fashion—with those warm brown eyes, the sculpted, yet soft jaw-line, the kindness and understanding emulating from the picture . . .

We might have pictures of the Savior in our homes, as well as His words in scripture on our end tables, but do we truly see him, and have we found Him inside our hearts?

At the age of sixteen, my family moved from Orem, Utah, to Jerusalem, Israel. My father had been given an assignment to teach in the BYU Jerusalem Center. We lived in a three bedroom apartment near the Mount of Olives and each day my younger brother and sister and I took a city bus to school.

Over the course of a year, we got to know the bus driver. He spoke some English and would make the effort to chat with us, the American kids. It didn’t take him long to figure out that we were Mormons. The year was 1987 and the Jerusalem Center had undergone some controversy by the local Jewish community when it was being built—including staged protesting. Some of the leftover evidence came in the form of bumper stickers that we saw on cars that read: Mormons Go Home.

Despite the negative feelings of some Israeli citizens towards the Mormons, it seemed the bus driver was curious and open-minded. Some months into our stay in Israel, he started asking us about our Church. We, of course, could not proselyte, so our answers were very sterile. Then he asked about the Book of Mormon, and regrettably we could tell him nothing and we could not even give him one. Still, he was amiable and friendly, even waiting for us when we late and sprinting for the bus.

Now, many years later, I think of that bus driver who wanted to know more about the Savior, but there were obstacles preventing him from learning, and from me teaching. As Christmas approaches this year, I think of the obstacles that may prevent me from drawing closer to my Savior. Or even the obstacles that may prevent me from teaching those around me, specifically my children, more about the Savior.

One of my greatest challenges in life is managing my time. Like many of you, I am balancing many things, including writing, editing, family, church, and community responsibilities. Where can I fit in yet another relationship? One with Heavenly Father, and His Son, Jesus Christ? Yes, I have reminders on the walls of my home, and in the pages of the scriptures that I read on a regular basis. But am I really seeing Him?

Because of the opportunity to live in Israel, I have walked where the Savior walked. I have visited the Garden tomb, surrounded by milling tourists, and tried to imagine the place in Christ’s day. I have looked at the stone slab where his body was laid out and thought about the coldness of the cave and the hardness of the stone.

I have wandered among the olive trees in the Garden of Gethsemane—those ancient trees that the Savior Himself had walked among, before falling to the ground and taking upon Him the sins of the world.

I have stood above the Central Bus Station on Golgotha—the site of the Crucifixion, surrounded by the modern sounds of living, and thought back to a time of quiet, a time when one innocent man gave up his life for the salvation of all men.

Yet, it does not matter whether I’ve visited the physical places where the Savior spent the moments leading up to the Atonement. Regardless of whether or not I am in my Utah home looking at a picture of the Savior or standing in front of the Garden Tomb, I must come to see who the Savior truly is.

With all the surrounding busyness of life, the Savior needs to become my anchor, but there is only one way to do that. Learn of Him. And this takes time and effort. As we are reminded to show our love for others this February, let us push aside the obstacles that prevent us from truly seeing our Savior. Let us pause and ponder. Look beyond the artist depiction of a man, but into the heart of the Savior, and the love He has for each of us.

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Gratitude for Fasting

Fasting is painful. Literally. It wears you out, makes you cranky, and might even give you a pretty big headache. That is if you go the whole twenty-four hours, or even the two-meal deal. When I was sixteen, I fasted for twenty-four hours—for the first time ever. It was the day I received my patriarchal blessing. It was also the day that I felt the Spirit flood my body for the first time. Coincidence? No.

Since then, I’ve tried to be prayerful when fasting. The powerful experience that I received at sixteen hasn’t repeated itself, but I’ve had other, smaller, faith-building incidents along the way.

When I married and started having children, followed by nursing, it seemed that the years stretched on with little opportunity to fast. Either I was pregnant, or nursing, or dealing with some illness that was passed back and forth between myself and the kids. One Fast Sunday, when I was pregnant with my third child, a woman stood up in Relief Society to bear her testimony. You know those last three minutes of the meeting when the Presidency turns the time over for testimonies. This sister said something I’ll never forget. “Today I’m fasting even though I really have nothing to fast for.”

My eyes immediately filled with tears. I couldn’t fast, yet I had several things I wished I could be fasting for. “Fast for me,” I wanted to say. And then she did say it: “But I’m fasting because I know I’m supposed to, and maybe someone’s prayer will be answered.”

That day, my prayers were answered because someone else was fasting for me. Through the blessings of the fast, I was able to partake because of someone else’s obedience.

The LDS religion is not the only faith to incorporate the principle of fasting. Almost from the beginning of man’s existence, fasting has been the key to communicating with God. In the Old Testament, the people of Ezra sought protection of the Lord: “We fasted and besought our God” (Ezra 8:21–23, 31). Also, Nehemiah fasted and prayed for the people in Jerusalem: “I fasted and prayed before the God of heaven” (Neh. 1:4). Even Jesus Christ found it necessary to fast: “he had fasted forty days and forty nights” (Matt. 4:2).

Some of the most poignant examples of fasting are recorded in the Book of Mormon. When Alma the Younger was going about to destroy the kingdom of God, an angel intervened and rebuked him. Alma the Younger was struck by the power of God and lost the power of speech and all of his strength. His father, Alma the Elder, rejoiced that his son had been called to repentance by the Lord, yet he called the people of the church together to “fast, and to pray to the Lord their God,” so that his son might recover his strength and share his experience with others (Mosiah 27:22).

It is a difficult task for a parent to instill a desire to fast in their children. It continues to be an on-going process in my family. Through studying Alma the Younger’s story in the scriptures, we can help our children understand that fasting is a key component in developing and strengthening their testimony. Alma the Younger credits fasting as a part of his complete conversion: “And how do ye suppose that I know of their surety? Behold, I say unto you they are made known unto me by the Holy Spirit of God. Behold, I have fasted and prayed many days that I might know these things of myself” (Alma 5:45–46).

God has commanded His people to fast often, “I give unto you a commandment that ye shall continue in prayer and fasting from this time forth” (D&C 88:76, emphasis added).

In our Church today, each month one Sabbath day is reserved for fasting. The purpose of fasting is two-fold. First, to develop greater spiritual strength. During Fast Sunday we are expected to go without food or water, then contribute the money we would have spent on meals in the form of a fast offering. This fast offering is then distributed through the ward and/or stake to “assist the poor and needy” (see Topical Guide).

Yet, the “poor and needy” has taken on a whole new meaning over the past year with the volatility of the economy, both nation-wide and internationally. On the news, we hear that the economy is finally rebounding and the DOW is on an upward swing. But the fact remains that the unemployment rate was 9.8% in September, 2009 (the highest since 1983).

The law of the fast is more important than ever. We must continue to fast, for ourselves, for others, and for the Church. We must put our faith in Him and contribute when and where we can to His kingdom to bless our neighbors—to bless those who cannot fast for themselves. I am grateful that I’m healthy enough right now so that I can fast. And I’m grateful for the times when I haven’t been, that others have fasted in faith—blessing me through their obedience.

Farewell to Elder Wirthlin

A great man, a great leader. I first met Elder Wirthlin and his wife about 15 years ago in beautiful Hawaii. He was gracious and when he came to my in-law's home for dinner, he proclaimed that spaghetti was his favorite meal. I remember his wife as being spunky and sweet.

I will miss his wisdom and his patient advice in his talks around the world.

Serving for Life

Do you feel like you’ve served in your calling forever? Do you say to yourself, “She has a new calling, what about me?” Some callings are more difficult than others. Your challenge might be nursery, my challenge might be teaching the 12-14 year old Sunday School class.

In recent General Conference sessions I’ve noticed an emphasis on “It’s not where you serve, but how you serve.” That’s easy to agree with. But when you’re in the trenches and an expectation isn’t met, someone complains, or you don’t have the response you hoped for after a great deal of time investment . . . you start to forget.

Even Alma wished that he could do something else: “O THAT I were an angel, and could have the wish of mine heart, that I might go forth and speak with the trump of God, with a voice to shake the earth, and cry repentance unto every people! . . . But behold, I am a man, and do sin in my wish; for I ought to be content with the things which the Lord hath allotted unto me” (Alma 29:1-3).

Most of us have to settle for quite ordinary callings on ward levels, reaching perhaps a few dozen people. We aren’t angels (yet) in the sense that we can travel far and wide, speaking with the “trump of God”—so we must be “content with the things which the Lord hath allotted unto [us].”

This past year while serving in the third year of a leadership calling and thinking “Maybe it’s someone else’s turn now,” I realized something. I’m serving for life. Whether it’s Primary, Relief Society, Visiting Teaching, etc . . . I’m a lifer. It doesn’t matter where I serve, just so long as I do. It doesn’t matter how long I serve in a particular calling, just so long as I am serving with my whole heart.

Elder Henry B. Eyring reminds us, “Your call has eternal consequences for others and for you. In the world to come, thousands may call your name blessed, even more than the people you serve here. They will be the ancestors and the descendants of those who chose eternal life because of something you said or did, or even what you were . . . You see, there are no small callings to represent the Lord.” (“Rise to Your Call,” Ensign, Nov 2002)

Anytime I start to feel restless in my calling, I just have to look at the prophet of our church, President Thomas S. Monson. He was called to be an Apostle in 1963 at the age of thirty-six. In February, 2008, he became the President of the Church. He has served in these immensely demanding callings for forty-five years.

Everyone is familiar with Nephi’s words found in 1 Nephi 3:7. “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them . . .”

You’ve probably discussed this many times in Gospel Doctrine. But let’s look at it in greater context. Lehi has just been commanded by the Lord to return to Jerusalem and retrieve the brass plates from Laban. First of all, Lehi is a wanted man in Jerusalem. He was commanded to take his family and flee for his life. This means that if his sons return to the city, their lives could very well be put in danger too. Second, the family had just traveled about fourteen days to get to their first camp locations. Now the sons of Lehi would have to make a roundtrip journey that would take them the better part of a month—through a hot, windy, uncomfortable climate.

Third, in the ancient Hebrew culture, the men were primarily responsible for hunting. The women did the cooking and set up tents, etc. These brothers would have to fare for themselves for several weeks. Fourth, Laban is not exactly on friendly terms with men of God such as Lehi. Meeting with Laban and making such a request is something that the sons of Lehi don’t relish.

Now when we read Nephi’s response, “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded,” we understand that his willingness to serve encompasses much more than just a willing heart. It includes physical and spiritual hardships, being away from the safe confines of home and family, managing relationships with his brethren, relying on the Lord for his physical well-being, and allowing himself to be guided by the spirit in all things.

Yes, we may feel like we’ve served in our callings forever. But that’s all right—because we are lifers.

New Year’s Resolutions—It’s Never Too Late

January has come and gone, and perhaps your New Year’s Resolutions went out with the dried Christmas Tree. At the beginning of the year, many of us heard the familiar buzz about “New Year’s Resolutions” on the radio, television, or even read about nifty ways to set goals in newspaper articles and magazines.

You might find yourself wondering, like I am, exactly what were your New Year’s Resolutions? They must have been noble at the time, but now that you are in the full swing of work, kids in school, homework, basketball season . . . they are but a distant memory.

And if you’re like me, more often than not, your New Year’s Resolutions fizzled before January even came to an end. So what to do? Is it even possible to set goals after the initial buzz has died down? Perhaps it’s time to look at the type of goals we set over the years.

None of mine have been spectacular, or noticeable to anyone else. Most of them have been quite boring, in fact. For example, I’ve set many goals and achieved them, but they have been the “same” goals, year in and year out. Goals that I set and reset often are daily scripture study or exercising three times a week. I think I’ve been setting these goals for twenty years. Although they are great and important goals, they have become my lifestyle—not really necessary to set goals for them anymore. More recent goals include being more patient with my children; or work-oriented ones like writing 1,000 words a day, finishing a manuscript in a certain time-frame, updating my website . . .

Some failed goals that I set each year include: catching up on those scrapbooks, cooking more than one and two course meals, keeping my office organized, cleaning out the bookcases . . . oh well.

It’s not too late to try something new. And not just because it’s still early in 2008, but because I have been stuck in a rut. I’m not looking for exciting, fast-paced, thrilling achievements. Although I’ll take those, too. It would actually be nice to slow down a little, savor more out of life, and enjoy what is right in front of me. Spiritually, physically, and mentally.

Spiritual:
Instead of reaching upward, I want to reach outward. Instead of reading a chapter of the Book of Mormon a day, I want to study everything I can about the prophet Abinadi. Artists depict the prophet Abinadi as an elderly man preaching to the people of King Noah. But what if he was a young man of thirty, with a wife and small children? What do the scholars say about his life? How would it be to know that you are going to be put to death for preaching the word of God, yet you continue to prophesy anyway—leaving behind all your earthly possessions?

Physical:
Instead of stringent exercising three times a week, I want to take my children on more adventures . . . ones that include a little work and perspiration. Not long ago, I purchased The Utah Mama’s Handbook. It has hundreds of suggestions for fun activities, outings, and vacations with your children throughout the state of Utah. I can’t remember the last time that I woke up, threw all other responsibilities aside, and said, “Children, let’s go have some fun.”

Mental:
In the place of focusing on how I can be more patient as a parent, I want to find more things in common with my children—that we can enjoy doing together. My ten-year-old daughter loves to sew, and so do I. But it’s been a long time since I’ve had time to do any sewing. And my thirteen-year-old son is fascinated with history, as I am. Why not make a list of historical sites and local museums, and then take the odd afternoon to visit them? My seven-year old loves to draw and create, and I, too, have enjoyed that in the past when I’ve had “time.” It’s time to sit down with her and discover what a beautiful world we really live in. Finally, my three-year old is obsessed with horses, though I know little about them. It would be fun to find a place where she can ride them and I might learn something too!

Trying something new might take a little more conscious effort. Reaching outward instead of making lists and compiling stats will definitely be a change. But it will be worth it if my belated New Year’s Resolutions turn from achieving a few goals to creating a lot of great memories. How about it? Are you in?

How the Priesthood Nurtures Women

“The priesthood is the power and authority to represent God.”
—David O. McKay

Although the authority of the priesthood is bestowed only on worthy male members of the Church, the blessings of the priesthood are available to everyone. The priesthood was restored on earth so that "the immortality and eternal life of man" (Moses 1:39) could be brought to Heavenly Father’s children. Priesthood holders serve in their offices to bring salvation to each of us, His children.

Growing up, my father was an exemplary patriarch. I seemed to coast through life with blessings and safe-guards that I didn’t fully appreciate until I was married with my own children. Then life took a fragile turn, and I made the passage from childhood into adulthood.

In 2006, on a cold November day, my son received the Aaronic Priesthood. Although his journey of holding the priesthood has just begun, his life has been touched by the power of the priesthood since before birth. The night before I checked into the hospital, my husband gave me a priesthood blessing. I was petrified, to say the least, to wade through the unknown process of childbirth, something that Elder Holland had referred to as the “valley of death.”

A couple of months later, a circle of men gathered inside a chapel and my son received his second priesthood blessing. Time passed and after a vacation, my ten-month old became violently ill. When I called the doctor’s office, the nurse told me the “bug” was going around and to keep him hydrated. Five days crept by, and my already thin son became completely lethargic. To some, the answer might have been immediate, but for me, it took an act of faith to ask for a priesthood blessing. When my husband administered the blessing to my son, I felt the easing of anxiety. And by the next morning, my son had made great improvement.

But what if we don’t have children or we are single? Or our husbands do not hold the priesthood, or for some reason, they cannot officiate? What blessings are we entitled to through the priesthood? As women, we receive the blessings of the priesthood through many ordinances, including Baptism, the Gift of the Holy Ghost, Patriarchal Blessings, the Setting-Apart for a Calling, Temple Covenants, Blessings of Comfort and Healing, and the Sacrament.

In 1999, while living in California, I checked out the VHS tapes of BYU Women’s Conference from the stake library. I was busy sewing and half-listening to the talks. When Truman G. Madsen spoke on “The Savior, the Sacrament, and Self-Worth,” I paused in my work. The entire talk was excellent, but one statement changed my outlook forever on the administration of the sacrament and the priesthood power behind the weekly ordinance.

Brother Madsen said, “You faithful sisters, married or unmarried, who move daily (and hardly with a break) from the garden plot to the crucial minutia of food labels to the cups and measures of cookery; you, who struggle and preside in the kitchen and keep vigil; you, who reach out to the perennial needs of your family and loved ones; you, who with artistry gather flowers and turn an ordinary table into an altar that summons prayer and thanksgiving; you, who by your very presence, turn eating into a feast—into dining in the name of the Lord, and who, therefore, bring a bountiful measure of grace to your table, lend your faith to boys and sometimes inept men who officiate at the sacrament table. Let the tables turn on your serving. Lend your faith to our trying to act as you do in Christ-like dignity. For this is as close as we may ever come to your divine calling to give and to nurture life itself . . . Come to a foretaste of the marriage supper of the Lamb.”

“Come unto me,” rang through my mind, over and over. As we accept His sacrament, we are accepting His service, His Atonement, and His offering of salvation. In essence, we come unto Christ through the priesthood. The priesthood is an offering for everyone. It serves all mankind—men, women, and children alike. How can women share in the blessings of the priesthood? By accepting the blessings that are right in front of us. By living to be worthy of the priesthood blessings that are so readily ours. By accepting opportunities to serve. By supporting the priesthood in our homes. And by accepting God’s love, His sacrifice, and embracing our own Redemption.

The Passing of a Great Man--A Prophet of the Ages

There have been many tributes to President Gordon B. Hinckley over the past week. He passed away on January 27, 2008. As with any major event in a person's life, I remember where I was and what I was doing when I heard the news. My kids and I like to watch Extreme Makeover on Sunday nights. The news cut into the program and I learned from the newscaster that President Hinckley had passed away about an hour before.

I was surprised, but then again I wasn't surprised. I thought, "He's finally been released from his earthly calling--at the age of 97." He was an amazing man. Tireless. Someone that I can only hope to emulate a glimmer of what he was.

What else can I say that hasn't been said by countless others? I remember re-reading the Book of Mormon one year--although I thought I was on overload for doing it. But I firmly believe that when a prophet issues a challenge, it should be followed.

I met the Hinckleys on numerous occasions--at the Polynesian Cultural Center when I lived in Hawaii with my husband. When my father-in-law (former PCC President) "retired" from his position, we had a dinner in his honor at the Joseph Smith building. I think almost every apostle was there, including President Hinckley. I met him and his wife, shook hands, and we posed for a picture. My grandmother kept that picture on her fridge for many years.

When I wrote Volume Two of my Out of Jerusalem series (A Light in the Wilderness), Marjorie Hinckley had recently passed away. I remembered the raw grief that President Hinckley had shown at her funeral. I wanted to try to identify with Ishmael's wife as she was forced to bury her husband in the middle of the wilderness--and walk away from his grave and leave him in a foreign land. I re-read through President Hinckley's words of utter loss and loneliness, and tried to capture the same devastation for the family of Ishmael.

The advice that President Hinckley has given over the years is truly priceless and close to my heart. Counsel about children, church service, scripture reading, tithing, staying out of debt, marriage . . . have all profoundly affected me. I think the one thing that always stands out in my mind was his counsel to "Do your best."

What more can we do if we are doing our best?

Many times I feel overwhelmed and wish that I had no cares, no worries, more time to relax . . . If I just commit to do my best, it will all work out.

This morning my husband and I went to President Hinckley's funeral. After weeks of snow storms, today dawned bright, cold and clear. The sky was a brilliant blue, the clouds fluffy and white. We sat in the enormous conference center and waited for the funeral to begin. On the big screens we saw the funeral procession heading for the building. Then we watched the families approach the underground door, and gather to watch the casket transported on a moveable platform. The apostles lined up at the entrance into the auditorium and the casket was wheeled past them.

Even with all of this formality and grand setting, I was struck by the simple nature of the proceedings. Here was a quiet, unassuming man who had touched literally millions of lives.

The general authorities took their usual places, except for the seat between President Monson and President Eyring was empty.

The speakers spoke in loving, hushed tones of his legacy of service and love for others. They heralded his sense of humor, his affection for youth, his tireless work. They identified that he, like us, grieved deeply for his wife. But he put on his shoes and went back to work.

A few days ago, I watched the Glen Beck segment in which he pays tribute to President Hinckley. Beck said he passed up on an opportunity to meet President Hinckley and shake his hand for fear of coming across as a "fan." Now he regrets that decision. "I" was able to shake his hand. But whether or not anyone of us have met him in person, his goodness and influence reaches deep into our hearts, wherever we are.