This is my dad and his family as they sent him off on a mission. I’m not sure what’s going on behind those stoic faces. Dread? Sadness? Bewilderment? Not ready for the camera?
My dad joined the Church when he was 17 years old. His family was not religious, but he had a few friends who were instrumental in his conversion. There was the neighbor who gave the family a Book of Mormon which sat on a shelf for years until my dad read it clandestinely in his room while throwing a basketball against the wall to avoid suspicion. There were some darling girls who invited him to early morning seminary, which he attended faithfully, learning the Old Testament. And then there was the Oakland Temple Pageant. His friends took him there and when the choir of 500 youth voices sang The Spirit of God, his heart was deeply touched. He had found the source of peace in a time of real upheaval. It was the late 1960’s in the Bay Area.
My dad’s story of hearing all of those young men and young women singing is best heard in person, and I am sure I am leaving out details. However, I believe that it was one of the sacred events that changed the course of his life.
It’s my dad’s story, but it’s also a part of my story. If those kids hadn’t shared their love of the gospel…if they hadn’t sung their hearts out… if he hadn’t had the Book of Mormon in his home… if he hadn’t been courageous and decided to be baptized, he wouldn’t have met my mom and I wouldn’t be here.
I believe in the miracles of music and the courage of youth.
As I sing in this choir with 300 kids ages 12-18, I am having a powerful experience.There are songs that I still cannot sing the whole way through without stopping for tears.
I hope someone in the audience will be touched by this music. I know that music can change lives.
Timothy had his first band concert this week. Bravo! He and his band did an excellent job. I am so proud of Timothy, but not enough to let him keep my black music stand in his room where he practices. This week I carefully reclaimed my stand and left my old silver one in its place. Someday you’ll get a nice black stand, Timothy. But we’ve got to pay for that trombone first.
This next week I’ll probably see our older kids wearing concert black every day. Recently, the orchestra director for Les Miserables had a moment of panic when he realized that they had only two pianists for the show when they really needed three. Paige was recruited to play. When the kids practice their songs on the piano, I sing along. One minute I’m Eponine and the next I’m Enjolras. Ha!
With all of the show business going on with the church musical and Les Miserables, I’m taking this day to do a super amount of laundry, shop, and prepare mentally for what’s ahead next week.
I asked a friend to give me some photos that he took at Youth Conference last June. I took hundreds of photos that week but had few pictures of Paige and nothing of myself. I was hoping that someone had taken a picture of us when we were riding horses, but there weren’t any.
As I went through hundreds of pictures, I found a pattern in where I can be found in big groups. I am usually on the perimeter, watching silently. I started to feel pity for that woman who never seemed to be in the middle of things, but I caught myself as I entered this trap that would make me feel of less value.
I have good relationships with the youth, but it’s through individual conversations, teaching Sunday lessons, and writing that these relationships have been made. From the perimeter, I see many things that people in the middle of the action can miss. There is a place for each kind of personality. And I can join in the middle of things, too. It’s just not where I spend most of my time.
Fun on the Perimeter with both youth and leaders. Just after this photo was taken, I joined in the line dancing we were watching.
Hooray for the introverts of the world. (I’m not saying that the above people are introverts.) We seek to know people on a deep level, we think before we speak, and we watch before we join in a group or a conversation. When we talk to people, you can be sure that we are investing our hearts and a lot of energy to the conversation. These are all great attributes.
Paige and I are singing in the musical, From Cumorah’s Hill later this month. Paige is also being featured in a video section of this production. We invite you to attend on Thursday, November 20 or Saturday, November 22! It’s a big production with a gorgeous set, powerful music, and my favorite: the youth share their love for the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Daniel is attending rehearsals for this, but he won’t be able to perform because he is playing piano for Les Miserables at his high school on those evenings. We invite you to come see Les Miserables on Friday, November 21.
Eight years ago my dad and mom began their missionary journey. They were asked to come to the Church office building in Salt Lake City for several interviews before being called as a mission president and companion and there was a lot of training which began 6 months before they went to the missionary training center. My mom learned Spanish. My dad revisited his Spanish speaking skills. He shaved his mustache.
They moved out of their home and said goodbye to the grandchildren. It was a big deal in our family to see this happen.
They served for 3 years in the California San Bernardino mission. My mom taught, cooked, entertained, cooked, taught, loved, and spent a lot of time on the phone dealing with the health issues of their missionaries while my dad presided over the mission. There isn’t time to list all the things a mission president does for the missionaries, the people who are being taught by the missionaries, the members, and the community. I saw both my parents shine as they did the work. It was a busy, busy time.
Just a few months after they came home they were called to serve in the Provo Missionary Training Center. My dad served in branch presidencies and as a Branch President for Spanish speaking missionaries. This meant they would be at the MTC usually 2 nights a week and all day on Sundays. It meant my dad would read and respond to letters from his missionaries on another evening each week. My family was able to attend a sacrament meeting at the MTC on Christmas Day a few years ago. The missionaries spoke Spanish at whatever level they could. I saw how they loved my parents and how parents loved them. My dad has a great zeal for the gospel and my mom has a quiet wisdom that the missionaries love.
They were released on Sunday morning, which means that their service was accepted and they are no longer serving as missionaries. My heart broke a little bit for them, especially my dad. I am so proud of my parents. It’s been a marathon… an 8-year marathon, and they have touched so many lives.
Here are some links to articles that have given me something to think about this month.
“Fundamental to looking after someone is finding where they came from and what they need.” This service to displaced women in Iraq really touched me.
Some of the benefits of writing are shared in this article. For the first two links, I thank Catherine.
This piece describes what it’s like to be a high school student, and it’s not about peer pressure and drugs. It’s about teacher-student relationships and restricted movement.
Mark and I needed these graphics a few weeks ago to show relative sizes of objects in the solar system.
Stephanie led me to this article that turned my heart. Go ahead and give those tall boys some candy on Halloween.
If you need a smile, here are some monsters for your Halloween delight, drawn by second graders and embellished by high school students. Brilliant! This one was from Russ.
Today these two boys spoke in church. It was Timothy’s last Primary program. How did that happen? We really enjoyed hearing all of the children speak and sing for us, but there is something special about being able to claim a few of them as our own.
Each boy carefully wrote and memorized his part. They were confident and prepared.
Here is a small quote from each boy today:
In our pre-mortal life we had free agency. Before we were born we chose to follow the Savior.
Satan had a different plan. He wanted everyone to follow him and be forced to obey. This is a bad plan because we wouldn’t be able to choose for ourselves.
The earth was made so we could gain bodies and be tested. It’s important to make our own choices on earth because it tests our faith. If we make good choices, we can be with Heavenly Father and our families in heaven.
-Mark, age 8
Part of the plan was that the Savior would die for us. This helps us all the time, at school, at home, and everywhere. We can repent and always have a good example to follow in Jesus Christ.
Part of the plan is to be baptized and receive the Holy Ghost. The Holy Ghost has helped me in my life. I have learned that I can pray before tests and things I have to do at school and other places. When I do this, I am reassured that I will do well. Every time I have done this, I have passed the test. When we are sad, the Holy Ghost can comfort us. I know that the Savior understands what we are going through and helps us return to Heavenly Father.
Just a smattering of thoughts today, readers.These super hero prints were a gift to the kids from the artist, Josh Talbot. We bought my new violin from his wife.I love pumpkins, and pumpkins from a friend are especially nice.Welcome to our house!Photo is from Halloween 2006
There are fewer costumes to get ready for Halloween this year. When I think back to the years when we coordinated costumes for the kids, I feel thankful that we made those memories. Super Heroes, The Wizard of Oz, and Star Wars were my favorite themes. I spent a little time sewing Halloween bunting over the fall break. Mark has been my helper to decorate the house. One day he spent an hour wrapping little skeletons in t.p. so they would look like mummies. He emphasized to me that the mummies are NOT for the house, but special for his room. Mark and I found this to be a mutually agreeable use for the mummies.
Mark told us that he didn’t need help with his tie. Okay.
The kids had a piano recital this weekend. Paige played the Mendelssohn Concerto in g minor op. 25, 1st movement. Daniel played Maple Leaf Rag by Joplin and a nice contemporary concerto called Concerto Bravo by Olsen. Timothy played Bach’s Solfeggietto and a piece called Frenzy. Mark surprised us again with very expressive dynamics in Spy Bot (He’s a real showman!) and amazed us with his speed at playing Cinnamon Popcorn. The older kids who played concertos were accompanied by their teacher, who spent a lot of extra time working with them on their pieces. She’s in the photo with the kids.
Mark’s measurement robot. I can’t tell you how many times this robot comes to my mind when I am working in the kitchen.
Home school with Mark is comfortable, sweet, and a joy. I’m savoring the time with him. Our studies follow a familiar path through ancient history, math facts, science, and writing. With each child, however, there is zeal for different favorite subjects and I enjoy seeing Mark’s personality and strengths emerge as we work on projects. Mark is good company, and we have the best conversations, and by that I mean we talk through a depth and breadth of his thoughts about super heroes, Star Wars, planets, Calvin and Hobbes, and Harry Potter. I write down some of the things he says as a keepsake of this time together.
On another front…
I find sharing my faith on Facebook to be very tricky. I admire people who can share concise, genuine statements about their testimonies. One thing I am thinking about is how to convey my testimony more effectively (online, among friends) without sounding like a Puritan or shaking so much in my boots. I posted the following paragraph on Facebook, but didn’t get any “LIKES” from my friends of other faiths. Does this mean I sounded like a Puritan to them? Who knows.
The LDS missionaries in our area needed some teaching practice so they picked our family. I loved how they taught and shared their love for the gospel of Jesus Christ. I wish I had invited someone to join us. Next time you see the missionaries, consider listening to their message with an open heart and mind. It will make your day. Their message is the most important part of my life.
Do you have thoughts about sharing your faith online?
I write this as the missionaries sit outside with Richard at a correlation meeting. They are around our house a lot. I am NEVER prepared when they come. One day I walked into the kitchen after showering, looking for a hair brush in my purse. It wasn’t until I had loaded the dishwasher while sporting wet, messy hair that I noticed that the missionaries were in the next room watching me make a fool of myself. Today they have to sit outside because every living area in the house is full of toys and friends. I just never know when they are going to show up.
This is probably one reason people respond well to online missionary work. I just need to learn how to do it better. Really, do you have suggestions?
We hosted another Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner party last week. This time there were 21 people at our house. I set 3 lovely tables in autumn colors but didn’t take pictures. We served pasta and played “Heads Up” on my mom’s iPad. If you haven’t tried this game, you should.
They sat on the back row of the chapel, feet crossed neatly in the aisle where people walked into sacrament meeting in my parents’ ward. They were a long line of widows and a few elderly couples. Their well-set hair and brightly-colored tailored jackets were predictable parts of the scenery at church. They may have sat at the back of the chapel to distance themselves from perfumes, infants throwing Cheerios, or just because that is where they always sat. I think they sat there for the view.
Every week I knew that they were watching me and everyone else who walked into church. They were the silent cheerleaders in my life, and a smile was their greeting. I was surprised at how they knew my name or occasionally singled me out to talk about something, even years later when I would visit my parents’ ward during college or after I was married and living out of state. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course they knew me! They had watched me walk into church my whole life. They were my in-town grandmothers that I saw every week, unlike my own grandmothers that I would see only a few times a year.
My parents live in the same house they bought when I was two. They haven’t been to church in their ward in seven years because of missionary assignments. Eventually when their missionary service is over, they will go back to a ward that no longer has a long line of elderly women on the back row. I think that will be difficult for them. Their mentors and friends are almost all gone now.
We lost another of our grandmothers from the back row last week. Her name was Pat and instead of working on my “to do list” today, I decided to attend her funeral. She is one of the last of a beautiful group of friends who raised children together, served in the Relief Society together, and grew old together. I just had to go today so I could see a few of their faces again.
It was the right thing to do. I wanted to honor the steady influence she and the others have had in my life. Although this sister was unwell and unable to attend the temple for years, she renewed her temple recommend faithfully. The last temple recommend interview was just a few weeks before her death and she asked that they place her recommend in her hand before her burial.
This is the caliber of women with whom I attended church in my childhood. I was influenced by them when I was young, and memories of them make me want to be a better person now. They are angels to me because they watched over me… Sister Dunford, Sister Axelgard, Sister Asay, Sister Christensen, Sister Whittle, Sister Carter, Sister Hanna, Sister Stone, Sister Holcomb, Sister Davies, Sister Peterson, and more… (Only one from this list is still living.) Thank you for being my in-town grandmothers, steady, beautiful, and true to the faith.
