All play just one part of the symphony, but together we make really great music.
We had such a fun family activity recently. The whole group of us went cross country skiing. I have come to the ominous conclusion that I am not twenty years old anymore. Yes. It's shocking, I know, but definitely unsettling to me the most, I am sure.
Difficult, yes. Graceful, no. Nevertheless, I had fun and support and help and compassion and good examples all around me. Perhaps the best realization of all is that I am not alone and those that surround me everyday are the very people that I would choose from all the world.
I don't really expect to attain the musical superiority of Beethoven or the artistic prowess of Michelangelo in this life, but that's OK. Their talents are different than mine.
A refreshing perspective—perhaps a helpful point-of-view—is that rather than a final appraisal these obstacles are really just opportunities for improvement.
DON'T ONLY PRACTICE YOUR ART,
BUT FORCE YOUR WAY INTO ITS SECRETS,
FOR IT AND KNOWLEDGE CAN
RAISE MEN TO THE DIVINE.
--Ludwig van Beethoven
My talent, my blessing, is the best family ever. And we're just getting started.
There can be no genuine happiness separate and apart from the home, and every effort made to sanctify and preserve its influence is uplifting to those who toil and sacrifice for its establishment.
Those aren't my words but rather Joseph F. Smith expressed these sentiments, and they remain just as true today as when they were spoken.
We can learn many things from our predecessors. For a period of time following the appearance of Christ to the New World, both the Lamanites and the Nephites lived in perfect harmony. The book 4 Nephi contains the secret. Verse 15 in Chapter 1 tells us why. See if you can pick it out...
And it came to pass that there was no contention in the land, because of the love of God which did dwell in the hearts of the people.
That's right. Our love for God can be a great influence for good. Grandpa recounted why appreciation for the Savior should be central in our lives:
"When we can take a thankless, demanding calling; give up something we wanted greatly, so we can pay our tithing; or help out someone who has badly hurt us ... and say "I wouldn't do that for anyone, except I'll do it for Christ!" ... then the power for good He can have in our lives is becoming a reality. He must be the foundation of our lives."
So to take this message full circle, our true happiness can be found in following the Savior every day and focusing on lifting those around us.
Pay attention to the divine things that matter most.
We have been enlightened this week with the family Christmas Party, Grandpa's account of finding Castle Valley, and a recent letter from Saren.
Saren shared a beautiful experience in her letter this week. She said that one of the sisters was talking last week about the Holy Ghost. She was saying she had a hard time knowing if the Holy Ghost was with her and prompting her or not. Elder Kopischke of the seventy responded "Sister, we live in a rainstorm," meaning that the Spiritreally is always with us pouring out promptings on us like drops in a rainstorm. We have only to recognize them, she wrote. She then confided that she has been paying more attention to those little promptings, and she sees evidence that we really are living in a rainstorm! The Spirit can be ever present in our lives.
I think that is what Grandpa was telling us in his account of finding and starting the adventure in Castle Valley and every day of our lives since.
When Christ departed from his apostles, he promised to leave them a comforter. We should pray for the companionship of the Holy Ghost everyday. We have each been blessed with this gift.
Receive the Holy Ghost and seek the ongoing companionship of the Spirit.
Last year, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas concert celebrated the birth of the Savior Jesus Christ with music and song at the Mormon Tabernacle choir Christmas Concert. But perhaps the most poignant moment was the story of the Candy Bomber, Col. Gail Halvorsen who was specifically recognized as one individual who was influenced by the example and goodness of the Savior.
Halvorsen became accustomed to children throughout the world begging American soldiers for candy throughout his 31 years in the Air Force. But when he was in Berlin in the late 1940s, the children did not beg. A fence divided Halvorsen and a group of German children, and though they did not ask for it, he thought about giving them the gum he had in his pocket. Because he only had two pieces left, he started to walk away.
His conscience stopped him.
He gave the children his two pieces of gum and watched as they shared the pieces, dividing up the wrappers into tiny bits so they could smell the peppermint flavor.
Following that experience, Halvorsen's idea for candy bombs surfaced.
Western nations were dropping in food and coal, but Halvorsen decided to brighten the lives of the children as well. Flying through the Russian blockade of Berlin in his C-54 aircraft, then-Lt. Halvorsen tied together tiny candy-laden parachute bundles to drop for the city's hungry children. His kindness inspired other crews to do the same, and American schoolchildren even made their own parachutes and donated candy for the German children.
Halvorsen said his life, and thousands upon thousands of others, would be "totally" different if he hadn't stopped to give away his gum that day.
"The little decisions in life are the ones
that matter," he said. "The little decisions you make put your footsteps on the path that leads to your final destination."
"His story kind of tempts everyone to be a better person," grandson Boyd Halvorsen said. "And inspires people to be more than what you think is within your grasp or within your bounds."
I have shared stories of Grandpa John with you many times. Certainly, we will discuss his life and experiences many more times. But today, I want to tell you about a maternal ancestor:
Margaret Jane and her children moved five miles away into the woods. They had a cow, some chickens and Mary had a cat named Katy. The little Lanier family dug and planted a garden around their home in the woods. Neighbor, John Gordon, and his family of five children lived three miles away. It was to this home that Margaret Jane and her two children went to hear the Elders preach again. The Elders came so seldom, and the Saints were so eager to hear the gospel preached, that an all night cottage meeting was planned. Again, the children were put to bed on the floor and the older people heard the word of the Lord preached.
When morning came, Margaret Jane and her children began to make their way home. They saw pairs of men sitting along the path every few hundred feet and their suspicions grew. Sure enough, there was a large group of men gathered together at one place waiting for Margaret Jane and her children. Bob, the little boy, sprang out and started to make a dash for their home farther along the path. One of the men drew a gun, pointed it at Bob and told his mother to call him back. He ran to his mother. The leader of the group, Miles Hendricks, lashed out at Margaret Jane with a hickory whip. Mary was holding her mother's hand as she received those blows. She knew angels were between her mother and that whip, for Margaret Jane claimed she never felt a blow. Only two strikes were given, when someone wrenched the whip from the hands of Hendricks, and it was thrown into the thicket. The men roared that she could not enter her house again and that all the Mormons were to get out. Margaret Jane and her two sons made their way back to the home of John Gordon, where they were sheltered. Word was sent to Tom, her son, who lived a few miles away and they made their way back to the little home, unknown to the mob. They packed what was left of Margaret Jane's things. The mob had taken their cow and chickens, flour, cornmeal and everything except their bedding and clothing. Later, word was sent that she could have her cow if someone came and got it. She hesitated and prayed before sending Bob, but he brought the cow and himself back unharmed. Tom welcomed them into his home where they stayed for about a year.
Won't it be great to hear Margaret Jane tell that story. It will be such a treat to look into her eyes and thank her for enduring to the end and making our life in the Church possible. And expressing our gratitude to Tom for his help is long overdue...
Yes. Our celebrations this year and every year include appreciation for our faithful ancestors and thanks be to God for our most precious gift of all.
Everyone has heard the vernacular "You can't teach and old dog new tricks," which means it is difficult to make someone change the way they do something they have been doing the same way for a long time. Or said another way, it is impossible, or almost impossible, to change people's habits or traits or mindset. Yet, we all have things to learn and ways to improve.
Let me see if I can think of an example...
Given the simple job yesterday of replacing a toilet seat, I set to the task. No big deal right? Rhetorically speaking, I have done this a million times. Somehow, the seat was completely broken away from the bowl. So with toolbox in hand, I went to the rescue.
First, I had to remove the broken plastic hinges from the bowl so I could fasten the replacement. So I climbed beside the toilet and set to work on one of two sides. The plastic bolts were secured with plastic wing nuts, but unfortunately they were too tight to loosen with my hands, so I retrieved my trusty set of pliers, and from there it went from bad to worse. Which way do I turn this to loosen? From the top it sounded easier than it turned out, so I tried to position myself below, but the quarters were cramped. Pretty soon, the wings on the wing nut were broken, but I took heart. I can use vice-grips to grip the nut and twist it off. However by that time, turning the nut didn't do anything to loosen it, so the threads must be stripped. Great. Why do they make these things out of plastic anyway? Without belaboring the point, I caught hope in the fact that I got a second chance on the other side, but the result was the same. Aaarrrggghhhhhh was at least what I was feeling.
So I sat back and assessed the situation. What are my options?
1.Maybe the plastic will come in handy after all. I can get a hacksaw and cut these off if necessary. But maybe I could use cutting pliers to remove at least part of the bolt.
2.Next, I can call Gregg. Goodness knows he has got me out of tight situations before. In fact, he is coming up for Thanksgiving... Other than the humiliation I was feeling, this was a great plan.
3.Let's see, what would Dad do? There must be plumbers in this ward up here, but who?
As I contemplated these options, I looked down and saw the new seat lying upside down on the floor still wrapped in plastic. Maybe it has instructions...what have I got to lose? So I turned it over, and sure enough, it showed three steps. It didn't even use words, only pictures. Lift the cap on top, remove the bolt with a screwdriver, and replace the cap. Needless to say, the new seat was in place and secured in minutes. The seemingly overwhelming task was easily completed.
So why have I gone to such great lengths to describe in detail this experience? Because it is not unique. Perhaps none of you have faced the challenge of replacing the toilet seat like I did, or at least you knew what you were doing and followed the directions first. But all of you have faced overwhelming obstacles in life and sought solutions where it seemed there wasn't any. Our challenges are better overcome by following directions of Someone who knows.
We all have a journey to the temple. Mine occurred one late evening in the outskirts of Minneapolis. I was looking for the St Paul Minnesota Temple with minimal guidance. There were tons of roads, intersections, and highways. I had a list of streets, directions if you will, but it was 100% new turf for me. Amid the darkness of night, pale lights, and general traffic congestion, I found it more challenging than I first expected. My cell phone was nearly dead, so GPS wasn't an option. But the minimal directions and some helpful locals eventually provided the guidance I needed. When I entered the ediface—1,300 miles from Utah—I felt comfortable and surprisingly right at home; familiar, peaceful, and secure.
The next session wasn't for about an hour, so I had plenty of time to look around and enjoy the area. Upon my return, I was ushered in. The rest of my colleagues were out eating steak at the Strip Club, supposedly a play on words, but that was all right. I decided on other activities and didn't want to try and explain the charge on my credit card statement anyway, so I made other plans.
After a warm introduction to other patrons, I found it most accommodating. What a relief. When I arrived, I was delighted to meet the temple president and learn of the numerous opportunities inside. I felt right at home. It turned into a wonderful evening. Five sisters and three brothers joined me...that's it, but it was one of the most enlightening sessions of my life. I don't think that was a coincidence. I intend to go back frequently. Perhaps this will begin my new consecutive attendance plan. It's a great way to spend the evening when I go to St. Paul. That's for sure. Why we build temples...
