The Sacrament, a Celebration

                  It was a tradition in our home every year at Christmas to read a story called “Christmas Every Day.”  It’s the story of a selfish young girl who loved Christmas so much that she begged the fairies to make it Christmas every day.  At first it was wonderful, but as the days, then weeks, then months went by, her dream became a nightmare.  Every day waking to new stockings, full of candy on which to make one ill.  Gifts kept coming and coming, so many that people hurled them across the room, and filled attics and barns with them.  People became poor for all the shopping, except the storekeepers who became very rich.  Having turkey dinner every day, with leftovers piling up, going hoarse from all the caroling, going to bed too late, and waking up cross-- all made a special day not so special anymore.

                Another holiday we love is Easter.  Like Christmas, we celebrate it once a year.  It also has special songs, and food, gifts given and received, and cause for rejoicing in our Savior Jesus Christ.

                Once a year may not be enough; every day may make celebrations mundane and commonplace.  But once a week we can remember these things in a calmer, more serene way as we participate in the ordinance of the Sacrament. It is a time to remember, to commemorate, to celebrate that Christ came to earth, to live and give his life for us.  We gather together as family and friends.  We sing special songs.  We give gifts, our gifts of a broken heart, a contrite spirit, repentance and obedience.  We receive gifts of mercy, forgiveness, healing and hope.  We eat special food, sacred and blessed, as we partake of the bread and water or wine, as we remember the Living Water and the Living Bread.  We are surrounded by love: God’s love for us, and ours for Him and for our brothers and sisters.  And we have cause to Rejoice in the Glad Tidings:  that Jesus has come! That He yet lives! That He brings to us Salvation, and Peace, and Joy.  

                On December 25^th, and on Easter, and every Sabbath Day 

we can celebrate and be glad--

we can gather and sing and eat, and have Hope. 

Thanks be to God for His Infinite, Unspeakable gift!

               

2020 Vision

I have a problem with my right eye.
I've been getting shots in my eye for over a year.
At last I had laser surgery on my eye.

I used to have a dark gray cloud covering my vision; now I have a light gray one.
I see better, but my vision is still impaired.

At my last eye exam, they covered my bad eye with a paddle, like a wooden spoon, but this time it wasn't solid but it had holes in it--to refract light. This time, once my eyes focused, I could see perfectly!

Paul taught that we see through a glass darkly.  I know just what that feels like with my physical eyes.  But what about our spiritual eyes?

We once lived as spirit children with our perfect and exalted Parents.  I believe we could see clearly then.  Mortality has covered our vision with a dark cloud, a veil of forgetfulness, a body of clay, with subtlety, carnality and enmity. 

But when light shines on us, we can see more clearly.
Jesus is that Light, the Light of the World, the light that is in and through all things He has created.
Through the Light of Christ given to all men, our vision is clearer.
Through the gift of the Holy Spirit, we see even more clearly.
When we align ourselves with the truth and light in time and space, our vision is even better.

Through faith, prayer, study and obedience, we can refract His light to shine more brightly in us, to help us see more clearly eternal truth.

The Great Physician can heal our blindness and give us sight.

My eyes -- and our spiritual eyes -- are capable of perfect vision.
We just need to clear the clouds.



That which is of God is light;
and he that receiveth light, and continueth in God, receiveth more light; 
and that light groweth brighter and brighter until the perfect day."  D&C 50:24

Feeling Old

I’m suddenly feeling old and dilapidated tonight.  I’m not sure why. 

I just had a birthday.  I didn’t think much of it.  I had a very nice day and felt loved.  End of story.

 

Today our Relief Society lesson was Ezra Taft Benson’s talk on The Elderly.  We divided into groups where we asked an elderly person some questions.  It was fun, but I was the elderly person!  Someone kindly asked why they chose me and how old was I anyway, but I felt old nonetheless.

 

Then I picked up my BYU Magazine to see that they just razed the John A. Widstoe building on the BYU campus.  That building was dedicated the year I graduated from BYU.  How old and dilapidated can a building get in that period of time?  How old and dilapidated can a person get in so few years?

 

Like the Mary Englebreit picture of the old lady who looks in a mirror and sees her young self, I still feel on the young side.  But I got my hair cut short recently and everyone says it makes me look younger.  Younger than what?  Someone else commented that there were too many on our temple shift with the same haircut.  That’s because it’s an old lady’s haircut, I answered.

 

Never mind that my oldest grandchild is starting college, and my granddaughter likes to play with my flabby arms and double chin during church.  And it's my 50th high school reunion next year.

 

Anyway, I didn’t think I felt old, but tonight I do.  I think I’m just tired, but the picture of the JAW demolition did me in.

 

I thought about my sister Pat; she is turning 70 this week.  Happy Birthday, Pat (looking great!), and thanks for the life-long gift of my being younger than you. ;)

ICONOGRAPHY

I am always struck when I enter an LDS chapel at how plain they are.  Beautiful, but plain.  There are no icons or idols, no pictures or artists’ renditions of what they think God looks like.  There are pictures of the Savior in the halls of the church to remind us that it is His house, but not in the chapel, in the place we worship. 

It is the same in the Temple.  There is hardly a place you can stand in the temple where you can’t see a picture of the Savior, except in the rooms where sacred ordinances are performed.

 I appreciate this, that when we come to worship and make sacred covenants, there are no distractions.  Our worship then becomes very personal, internal, as we ponder in our hearts and minds that true and living God that we know.  Unencumbered by history or tradition or art, we ponder that which the Holy Spirit has taught us of eternal truths, of our relationship to and covenants with the true and living God.

Having said that, I also appreciate that we do have art and pictures in the church, for what they teach me.  My favorite might be the picture of Christ Knocking at the Door, as it reflects my experience with Him.  Christ knocks on our door in many ways, each and every day if we listen.  The door knob is on our side, and it is for us to open the door.  It is my experience that every time I open that door He is just right there, always catching me by surprise that He is so near.  I love knowing that He is always knocking on my door, hoping I will answer, and that He will be there when I do.

I also love the picture of Christ as The Good Shepherd carrying the lamb on his shoulders.  It is a very sweet picture.  But when we think of the reality of it, lambs can be heavy, they can be dirty and smelly, and they can be wiggly and try to get away.  I’m grateful that even though I may be unclean, or my burden heavy, or I try to run away, the Good Shepherd will find me and will carry me on his shoulders. 

There is a picture called Christ’s Ascension into Heaven.  It doesn’t show Christ himself, but two angels, made bright by His glory, pointing to heaven where Christ has ascended to His Father in Heaven.  It thrills me to see this picture, to know that Christ yet lives.  I’m grateful that He withheld His glory to come to earth, to show us how to live, to accomplish the great Atonement, and then returned in a fullness of glory to His Father and ours.  His work is not yet done; He continues to labor in our behalf and will until it is finished.  Everything we hope for, the Heaven we dream of, is made possible because of Him. 

The piece of art I have hanging in my home is Christ Overlooking Jerusalem, depicting the scripture that says, “How oft would I have gathered you, as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, but ye would not.”  Prone to wander, how oft would He have gathered me in His arms, and I would not?  It reminds me of His infinite and inclusive love for all people, and His invitation extended to all, to “Come unto me, and I will give you rest”. 

Over my fireplace hangs a picture of an empty tomb.  He is Risen.  Christ the Lord is risen!  --the proof that He was who He said He was, the Promised Messiah, the Savior and Redeemer of the world, with power over death and sin.

This is the Savior that I know, the living, breathing glorified Son of the Father, who came with healing in His wings and power to save, who is ever near and loves with a love that has no end.

That is the picture I have in my mind of Him.

Down Memory Lane: Boats and Lakes

I rode in a boat on a lake this weekend. It's been a while. It made me think of my history with boats and lakes.

I grew up on a lake: Kitsap Lake in Washington state.

The first boat I remember having was a little dinghy, a row boat that we like to paddle around in.
Then we had a 8-foot white boat with a little motor on it. It's the one we were playing on when we weren't supposed to and my little sister fell off and almost drowned.
One day someone delivered a very large box to our driveway. When Dad finally got home we opened it to find a new speedboat! It was about 15', green and white, nothing fancy, but it was the beginning of a water skiing life that lasted for years. We always joked that our boat came in a Cracker Jack box. I drove the boat a lot more than I skiied behind it.
Another boat sometimes joined us. Kennedy's flashy red speedboat came to use our lake and our dock, and we loved that.
For my 8th birthday I got some swim fins, and swam in them for hours. I didn't know I had them on too tight until I got out of the water and saw that I had worn away the skin on the front of my ankles. I had big wet scabs for weeks, and still have scars from it.

We visited other lakes too. We spent a couple of summers on Lake Wilderness where we stayed in a rustic cabin and there were other activities like paddleboats, tennis, horseback riding and a little store--and a pretty girl named April Flowers. Wildcat Lake was not far from our house and we had church and private parties there. We didn't much like mucky Island Lake, but enjoyed Horseshoe Lake, the lake at Girls' Camp, and other lakes and beaches around the sound and the ocean.
Once we went out on Puget Sound on Dr. Almond's yacht. Dad sent us because he didn't want to go; my very active father didn't think sitting around on a boat all day sounded like much fun. It was.

Ferry boats were a large part of our life in Washington, the part I miss the most. We rode from Bremerton to Seattle for football games, shopping, and special occasions including the World's Fair, the Torchlight parade, and watching fireworks over Elliot Bay. From Poulsbo we rode the Kingston-Edmunds ferry for work and to see Mom/Grandma, and the Bainbridge Island ferry to get to Seattle and to the temple. The ferry from Port Orchard was a different experience, as were the runs to Port Townsend, and the ferry to Canada.

Lake Washington in Seattle was where we watched hydroplane races and saw shows including dancing waters and diving from high platforms built over the lake. We crossed the floating bridge over it, enjoyed the zoo nearby, and saw the huge lake from UW's Husky Stadium.
Lake Mead near Boulder City was a favorite in Nevada. Near the magnificent Hoover Dam, it was where we swam, where I did a day trip on the Jolley's boat (friends of my parents), and it was part of the scenery at our last lunch with Grandma Beth.
There were other lakes and reservoirs and boats, but I can't always remember where they were or what they were called. I haven't yet been to Lake Powell.

My favorite boat rides were the two cruises we took, one to Mexico and one to the Caribbean.
One of the highlights of my life was to be pulled by a boat on a parasail over the ocean.


We call the house I grew up in The Lake House. For awhile we lived on the cliffs high over Liberty Bay, and delivered phone books to the Bainbridge Island Marina where some people live on their boats.

I don't think of myself as a water person, but all my life I've had experiences with water, with lakes and oceans and beaches. I have memories of swimming, waterskiing, creeks, ponds, tadpoles, fishing, aquariums, water parks, showboats, docks, seafood, seagulls, herons, ducks, otters, lily pads, frozen lakes, beaches, digging for clams, and, of course, Ivars.


In spite of the itching we endured from the duck mites, I like a lake--and other bodies of water (though I don't need to get in them).

And I like a boat that will take you away from the known shore to another world,
--a cool, windy world of azure peace.

Take me away... It's so refreshing.

Mommy-isms

I love Mommy-isms.

I've often wondered what my own children will remember me saying. What things did I repeat over and over again that revealed my values, or my neuroses?

I haven't yet recorded those ideas that have been guideposts in my life, but I did get to thinking about some cartoons that I've seen over the years that I have never forgotten. Some of them became guideposts. Here's a few:


On cleaning house:
"Cleaning house while children are still growing is like shoveling the walk while it is still snowing."

On leftovers:
"You liked beans on Monday. You liked beans on Tuesday. You liked beans on Wednesday. Now all of a sudden on Thursday you don’t like beans?"

On disciplining kids (a picture of a father spanking a child over his knees):
"This will teach you not to hit!"

On picky eaters:
"Ask your child what he wants for dinner only if he's buying." --Fran Lebowitz

On family relations:
"Men and children are like wet spaghetti: they can't be pushed; they can only be pulled."

On choices:
"Our future is shaped by our past--so be very careful what you do in your past." --Ziggy


It helped to know that--
"If it was going to be easy to raise kids, it wouldn't have started with something called 'labor'."


One last quote that saw me through:

"To get the whole world out of bed
And washed, and dressed, and warmed, and fed,
To work, and back to bed again,
Believe me, Saul, costs worlds of pain." --John Masefield

Easter Baskets

I woke up this morning to an Easter basket—my Easter basket, one just for me! (Thanks, E-Bunny)

I can’t remember ever receiving an Easter basket in my whole life. (I apologize to anyone who may have given me one and I don’t remember.)

My mother didn’t do Easter baskets. I didn’t do Easter baskets for my children. That was a conscious choice made by my husband and me. When our firstborn Jennifer had her first Easter (she was all of 3 or 4 months old) we bought her an Easter basket. Well, really it was a small plastic pail like you use in a sand box, full of candy and toys. That morning as we stood in the dark-paneled family room with red shag carpet, with Jennifer in her high chair and the tacky gift in our hands, we decided we did not want Easter to come from K-Mart. This is not what we wanted Easter to be for our children. We always had lots of Easter candy, and we dyed eggs and had an Easter egg hunt on Saturday, but Easter Sunday was about celebrating the Atonement and Resurrection of the Savior and Redeemer Jesus Christ.

Now, I do not judge nor fault those of you who give your children Easter baskets. It was so fun to get one! And it certainly is more in keeping with the spirit of Easter, of the great gift of salvation that was given, then, say, eating ham during Jewish Passover. But I can’t help but feel some sadness for the children of God who think Easter is just about bunnies and baskets.

“There would be no Christmas if there had not been Easter …the babe Jesus of Bethlehem would be but another baby without the redeeming Christ of Gethsemane and Calvary, and the triumphant fact of the Resurrection.
“Of all the victories in human history, none is so great, none so universal in its effect, so everlasting in its consequences as the victory of the crucified Lord who came forth in the Resurrection that first Easter morning.” --Gordon B. Hinckley

My mother didn’t do baskets, but every Easter we all got a whole new outfit, from our head to our toes. We went to the department store and got dresses and petticoats, socks and underwear, shoes, gloves and even hats. Is that a secular tradition? Does it smack of who has the bigger or better Easter bonnet? Maybe. But for me it made Easter feel special, something worth dressing up for, and reminded me of all things new. Somehow we were transformed into something better than we were.

Last night someone left roses on my doorstep. Did they know? Did they sense that this day about death and resurrection might be especially tender for me? Did they know how grateful I would feel this day for the gift of eternal life and for He who made all things possible?

Christ the Lord is risen today! Hallelujah!

My basket, and my heart, are full.