Even miracles, if necessary

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Priesthood Session of the October 1981 Conference.

Lately (actually, I see that it's not only lately) I've been thinking about "power in the priesthood"—a phrase we hear often—and what it means. How much power do we have to change things in our lives? How much power is in our desires, if they are righteous? How does submission to God's will affect our power to have what we desire, or what He desires for us?

Two of the talks in this session referred to "power in the priesthood," and both emphasized how small acts of obedience increase this power. Elder Boyd K. Packer said:

Power in the priesthood comes from doing your duty in ordinary things: attending meetings, accepting assignments, reading the scriptures, keeping the Word of Wisdom.

and Elder H. Burke Peterson said:

I’ve found out that power in the priesthood comes to those who keep a few simple rules. Power doesn’t automatically come from the priesthood unless we live for it.

But my favorite part was this story Elder Peterson told:

Now, every boy listening really can be an instrument in the hands of the Lord to perform all sorts of sacred priesthood responsibilities—even miracles, if necessary…. Let me close my [talk] by sharing an experience:

Some years ago, when I was serving as a bishop in a ward in Arizona, we had an unusual group of teenagers. Most of them had the courage to do what was right. They stayed close to each other and helped each other when things got tough. Most of them went to a high school close by. In numbers, they were really only a handful of the total student body. They met a girl at the school who was not a member of the Church. Her circumstances were unusual, for she was deaf. She also had a defective heart. The only way she could know what you were saying was to watch your lips and read them. She sat in the front of each class so she could see the teachers speak. She was a good student, but when you can’t hear and can’t be active, it’s hard for you to be a part of what is going on. You’re sort of a spectator rather than a participant. She was a spectator watching from the sidelines. 

The young people from the ward were friendly to her and invited her into their circle. She responded to their kindness. One step led to another, and with her parents’ permission she was finally invited to receive the missionary lessons in one of the homes. She was taught by two nineteen-year-old elders not much older than she. She liked what she heard; she believed what she heard; she felt good inside. The day was set for her baptism. We were all invited to go. Dressed in white, she and one of the missionaries entered the water, and she was baptized as he said, calling her by name, “Having been commissioned of Jesus Christ, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”

The next step was for her to be confirmed. Some of us stood in the circle as priesthood hands were placed on her head. I was aware that she couldn’t see the lips of the one confirming her. And she wouldn’t be able to hear the blessing he might give. I listened carefully because I wanted to invite her into my office later, where she could see me talk, and tell her what had been said. 

A nineteen-year-old elder was the voice as she was confirmed a member of the Church. He then continued with a blessing. As he spoke, he began to make her promises that I thought were unusual. In fact, I became a little uneasy at his words. He continued the blessing, and I began to feel a calm spirit of peace as he spoke. Later, I sat in front of her and said, “I want to tell you of the blessing the elder gave you. It was tremendous.” 

She paused, and with moistened eyes said, “Bishop, I heard the blessing.” 

She had been healed. She could now hear, and her heart was beating normally. She could now participate more fully in the gospel and in the blessings of life. 

There are many lessons to learn from this story. The one I would like you Aaronic Priesthood bearers to remember is this: Here was a nineteen-year-old missionary, an elder holding the holy Melchizedek Priesthood. He had prepared himself for a mission. He had made himself worthy to be an instrument in the hands of the Lord to perform a miracle. So, as he stood with his hands on her head, he felt an impression—a heavenly message, if you please—telling him there was a special blessing for this young woman and he had been chosen to deliver it. 

He listened. He obeyed. And through the authority and power of the priesthood, a young life was made whole.

I guess I don't know what application this story has for my own attempts to gain "power in the priesthood" (which every person who has made temple covenants has access to)—except that it reminds me that sometimes, God's will for us is that a miracle will happen. It's so easy to assume that submitting to His will necessarily entails sacrifice and heartache (though also, of course, eventual blessings). And often, sacrifice and heartache is exactly what we get! I know we have to be prepared to be stretched and made uncomfortable as we follow God's plan. But in this story, the blessing of healing was there for the girl, waiting for her, already God's will. And the priesthood, in the hands of a young and inexperienced boy, had the power to unlock that blessing and make it a reality!

It gives me hope that there are blessings I have yet to access in my life as well; miracles waiting for me or for the people I love. And the power of the priesthood—whether through a formal blessing, a prayer, or some other exercise of this gift—can call those blessings down when we are ready for them.

Other posts in this series:

• The Complexity of Our Era and the Power of Agency by Nathaniel Givens
• Is Priesthood Power Being Used in Your Relief Society? by Jan Tolman

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Running the rivertrail

Abe and I drove down to Provo one Saturday morning so I could take him running on my favorite trail by the Provo River. It was so beautiful even before the sun came up—

but once the sun started reaching the treetops it became even more stunning!

It made me so happy to be running there with my boy (who used to be the tiny baby I took for walks on this very trail)!

This was another day, when we went up the canyon to sit and read. It was very peaceful.

The prettiest part was where the leaves had all gathered in this pool of water. Like liquid gold!

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Are you tired, Elder Hales?

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Afternoon Session of the October 1981 Conference.

Sometimes I amuse myself by imagining what someone would write about me if they were describing me briefly for a newspaper article or something. "Mrs. Nielson, a ____ woman with _____ eyes and an unremarkable demeanor, said…"

And for the last decade or so, I have had the sinking feeling that the most accurate adjective for such a description would be TIRED. Not that that is the descriptor I would want! But it's so consistently true, I'm afraid it will start to define me. So it was with interest that I read the following story from Elder Robert D. Hales:

During the planning and preparation for the Mexico, Central and South America area conferences in February 1977, we were scheduled to hold meetings in La Paz, Bolivia, which is twelve thousand feet above sea level. Dr. Ernest L. Wilkinson and Dr. Russell M. Nelson advised us that President Kimball should have four to six hours’ rest to acclimate his heart and blood pressure to the high altitude…  

I talked with President Tanner and President Romney to seek their assistance in getting President Kimball to rest in La Paz before the start of the area conference. They only smiled and said, “You can try.” 

Detailed plans were presented to the First Presidency for area conferences in Mexico, Central and South America. I saw President Kimball make two small red check marks next to La Paz, Bolivia, where there were two meetings that he was not scheduled to attend. “What are these meetings? Why am I not attending?” he asked. There was a pause; then I replied, “That’s a rest period, President Kimball.” And he remarked, “Are you tired, Elder Hales?” 

We arrived in La Paz, and the first meeting was a cultural event. He would not rest. My head ached; it felt as though it would explode in adjusting to the altitude, and we breathed oxygen to attempt to speed up our being acclimated to the twelve-thousand-foot altitude; but President Kimball took no oxygen. He greeted, embraced, and shook hands with two thousand Saints…

Dr. Wilkinson was concerned with the President’s vigorous activity at twelve thousand feet and approached him. He asked President Kimball if it would be possible for him to stop soon. President Kimball said, “If you knew what I knew, you wouldn’t ask me that question.”…] 

President Kimball told the General Authorities, “I am not afraid of death. What I am afraid of is that I will meet the Savior and he will say, ‘You could have done better.’”
Can you feel the dedication and urgency of a prophet’s voice to move the kingdom forward? “Are you tired, Elder Hales?” has a way of ringing in my ears when I rest for a moment. If we knew what President Kimball knows, then we, too, would work with all our heart, might, mind, and strength.

Now that I've read this, I'm afraid that semi-accusatory "Are you tired, Elder Hales?" is going to be ringing in my ears too! Of course I'm sure President Kimball didn't mean for it to be accusatory. And I know there is supposed to be a balance between work and rest, for all of us. We can't do everything. But honestly, every time I think about President Nelson, it makes me feel the same way! Watching his energy and his enthusiasm, with all he has to do and all he has to worry about, how I can say I'm too tired for my small services in the kingdom of God?

Yes. I'm tired. Always tired. But I can't be too tired to work! I have to just trust that Heavenly Father will give me enough strength for the things He wants me to do.

Other posts in this series:

• Three of the Great Tests Each One of us Will Face by Nathaniel Givens
• What is Pain When I Want to Be Exalted? by Jan Tolman

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Sundance and these dear people

This has been an extra busy school year so far, with Abe running cross-country at the high school, and all the kids in more extracurriculars than we've ever done. I think it's all about to get a lot better (the end of the cross-country season corresponding with Abe's birthday and him having his driver's license now, hallelujah!) but it's been an intense few months of driving to and fro, deadlines, double-booked schedules, gulping down meals on the way somewhere else, and hardly having a minute to take a breath between it all.

So, bless my brother Philip and his wife for coming from California, all the way to Utah with three busy boys plus two new baby twins in tow. We got to be present for Philip's priesthood blessing of the babies, and we even got to take our traditional trip with them up to the Sundance ski lift! It was wonderful to be outside in the Fall sunshine, breathing in the mountain air and watching the cousins play—or examine ski lift mechanisms—together. As I've been looking through these pictures I've been thinking about how so many of these connections, all these people I love, weren't even in my wildest imaginings thirty, or even twenty, years ago. How could Philip and I, lying in our red and blue bunk beds giggling as we tried to pretend to be asleep when our parents came in to check on us—how could we, riding our bikes over to the church parking lot or playing "ewoks" in our backyard tree fort—how could we have possibly imagined these 13 wiggling, chattering, poking-each-other, independent little PEOPLE that would become our whole worlds? It fills me with wonder to think about it.

Abe and my mom

Teddy, Seb, and Ky in a rare moment of happy conspiracy (which must certainly be memorialized, blurry or not)!

Ah, my favorite—every color together on a hillside! 

Everyone is so bundled up, it looks like it must have been freezing on top of this mountain! Some years it has been, and Philip always conscientiously puts hats and gloves on us if we don't bring them ourselves! :) But it wasn't cold at all this year. It was a beautiful, warm Fall day! In fact, everyone was getting hot and gradually discarding all their coats and outerwear (and wanting me to carry it all, of course—which I of course refused to do! If there's one thing I have less and less tolerance for over the years, it's this idea that I am the children's pack mule.)

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Certainty

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Morning Session of the October 1981 Conference.

President Hinckley gave a great talk in this session about faith and certainty. I can't do it justice, but it was bold and stirring and inspiring—an impassioned rebuttal to someone's statement that "certitude is the enemy of religion." On the contrary, President Hinckley shows how faith and certitude and conviction unleash power in our lives and in our church.

But, since I can't adequately sum up that talk, I will instead share a (somewhat related) story I liked from President Marion G. Romney's talk, about his wife:

My wife was reared in a home where they had prayer night and morning; where, almost daily, they discussed gospel principles around the family hearth. She loved education and wanted to go to college. Her father, however, thought college was for boys. In her struggle for an education, she developed an attitude of awe toward people who had been through college. As a member of a stake Sunday School board in Idaho Falls, she taught a class. There came to the class a nonmember of the Church, the wife of one of the brethren on the board. This woman had received a college degree from the University of Idaho. My wife, having not yet received her degree, was a little timid in the presence of this woman. 

One of the lessons in the course dealt with the First Vision of the Prophet Joseph Smith. As she made her preparation for the lesson, there came into her mind the realization that this nonmember would be present in the class. This realization was followed by the question, “What will she think of me, an ignorant girl, saying that the Father and the Son actually came down from heaven and appeared before a fourteen-year-old boy?” The thought terrified her, and she concluded that she couldn’t do it. She went to her mother, crying, and said, “Mother, I can’t teach this lesson. I don’t know that Joseph Smith saw the Father and the Son. I know I have been taught it all through my life by you and Father. I have believed you, but personally I don’t know it. This woman will ridicule me. I just can’t stand up before the class with this woman present and teach this lesson.” 

Now, her mother had not been to school very much. She was not an educated person by the world’s standards, but she had faith in God the Eternal Father and in Jesus Christ, his Son, and she said to her daughter, “What did Joseph Smith do to get that vision?” 

“Well,” she answered, “he prayed.” 

“Why don’t you do that?” she said to her daughter. 

This young girl returned to her room and there, for the first time in her life in fact, she went to the Almighty with a sincere desire to know whether he lived and whether he and the Savior actually appeared to the Prophet Joseph. Coming out of that room, she went to her Sunday School class and taught that lesson with joy, with knowledge, with conviction. She had been born of the Spirit. She knew.

There are some things I know, too. And even though I feel (pretty much all the time, especially with my children) as if I don't and can't know ANYTHING very certainly—this is a good reminder to hang on to what I DO know. Much of that has to do with God and His love for and interest in me. And as I start with my certainty in those areas, I can grow toward a knowledge of all the other things that unsettle me as well.

Other posts in this series:

• Conference Talks and Home Teaching by Jan Tolman
• A place for both certainty and doubt in the search for truth by Nathaniel Givens
• Grace for Everything by G

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Random Conference Thoughts

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week we take a break from older sessions to cover the just-finished October 2018 Conference.

I haven't read any other reactions to last week's General Conference, so I don't know if what I felt was what everyone else felt too. I am still processing, and don't feel like I can really summarize or organize my impressions yet, nor am I ready to talk about them. So, in no particular order, here are just some random observations that came to me as I watched the October 2018 General Conference:

• President Nelson is a powerful, powerful speaker. I can feel his energy every time he speaks. Sam said President Nelson's talk about the name of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints reminded him of Mormon's discourse on infant baptism. Fiery, reasoned, and bold!

• There was a lot said about making our homes into sanctuaries of peace and love and learning. Obviously I would love to do this, and I am always trying. And I know I can have a strong influence. But I wish I had more influence! As my children get older, they do so much to set the tone in our home—and I can't control whether they do it for good or ill! Each family member can make such a difference. I wish I could get them ALL to feel the desire I feel to keep it a place of peace and kindness.

• In that vein, though, President Eyring promised we could have the Spirit "at any family gathering, if you pray and plan for it." I would like to believe it (though I don't know if I can…see above…). But, did he mean even Family Home Evening?!? 😁

• Elder Oaks is so…forthright! I like him. Always have. And he is FUNNY, when he wants to be. He came to our stake conference once and we were laughing our heads off during the Saturday night session!

• Elder Ballard's talk was probably my favorite he's ever given. I loved hearing the background story on Joseph F. Smith's vision of the Spirit World. The quotes from JFS's journal and letters were so raw and emotional! And though Elder Ballard remained straight-faced and composed as he always is, I could detect the strong emotion behind his words, too, in a way I haven't in the past. I came out of that talk seeing and loving both men (Joseph F. Smith and Elder Ballard) in a new way.

• Two people that I remember (Elder Soares and Sister Franco) mentioned how we need to make sure we are greeting and befriending and ministering to other people at church—"regardless of other concerns or assignments." I need to do better at this. After sacrament meeting I am always SO focused on just doing the next thing: gathering up the toys, throwing out the zillion tiny paper airplanes Malachi has made, helping Junie remember her scripture case, making sure the kids take their tithing up to the bishop, taking Teddy to the bathroom, checking Ziggy's diaper, quizzing Marigold on her scripture for Primary, taking bags out to the car, etc. I feel like I have NOT ONE PARTICLE of energy to spare for looking for new faces, I'm so intent on these tasks. But that's silly. The bags can wait for a second. As can all the rest of it. And I'm missing the whole point of church (or, one of the main points) if I ignore all these neighbors and (potential) friends!

• Elder Bednar's rope animations must have really spoken to my kids. A bunch of them said his was their favorite talk.

• I liked it when Elder Andersen said, "Return to the Lord's house with your wounded heart and your family names as often as possible." Family names? Check! Wounded heart? Check! Ha ha.

• My favorite talk was Elder Rasband's, on Fear. It spoke to many of my questions and feelings.

• The whole First Presidency spoke at the Women's Session! Yaaaay!

• I don't really love dogs, but I loved the dog in Elder Stevenson's story. A faithful, noble dog! Like poor Hashiko.

• This phrase from Elder Renlund: "God gives us the dignity of choosing." I'm pondering how this can help my parenting.

• I loved the story Dean M. Davies told of President Hinckley and the Vancouver Temple, and President Hinckley's cheerful response after they told him he couldn't have chosen a more difficult site to acquire: "Well, do your best!" Ha ha. President Hinckley and President Nelson are cut from the same cloth.

• My conference notebook is just a composition book with tabs for each apostle, plus a tab for each auxiliary and the Presiding Bishopric, and then a tab for "Other Speakers." Here is the page I just finished in "Other Speakers":

…and I can't honestly say that poor Jack N. Gerard didn't get short shrift. Anyway, the pages in the other tabs aren't full yet, so NOW what do I do? Try to tape in some more pages in the back? Not take notes on any of the seventies next conference?

Other posts in this series:

• General Conference: Four Challenges by Jan Tolman

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(Mostly just a bunch of pictures of people swimming in) San Diego

The week in August when everyone else was posting back-to-school pictures of their kids heading off with backpacks and lunch bags…but Sam still had a week before classes started at BYU…we took off for a quick trip to San Diego.

Sam and I went to San Diego on our honeymoon, but we haven't been back with the family because whenever we go to California, we always want to visit my brother's family up in Irvine instead! But seeing as they just had their second set of twins…it seemed like a good time NOT to invade their house with the 10 of us. So we got a rental house in San Diego!

When I was looking for places to stay, I started by looking at a lot of condos by the beach, since that's what I always hear about people doing. But then I saw this place up on Mount Helix, and it had a pool! And I realized…the beach isn't really much fun for babies anyway! There is sand in everything and you never can keep it out of their mouths and noses and diapers. And you worry about them getting swept off by waves. But pools! Pools are great (especially pools that come with beds and cribs for naps nearby)!

And it DID turn out great! We loved it so much. We have never had our own pool before, and there were all kinds of fun things about it…like not constantly having to worry that the kids were bothering someone (except each other, of course)…not having to all go swimming at once…swimming multiple times a day…swimming at night…even jumping in the pool for a quick swim after getting all hot and sweaty on an early-morning run. It was magical.

And the view was magical too.

We probably could have spent our whole four days swimming in the pool and sitting outside on the patio in the perfect 78-degree temperatures. We did fit in a visit to Sea World, and the Wild Animal Park, and the San Diego Temple. And we had a great time. But I would say the relaxed, unstructured time in the pool was hands-down everyone's favorite. And I took a million pictures because it was just so beautiful!

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Because of who we are

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Welfare Session of the April 1981 Conference.

There was an incident in our family this week where one of my children professed to be deeply offended by the fact that some other members of the family were cringing away from him in fear every time he walked by. "They're just being oversensitive!" this child proclaimed piously. "Why do they assume I will do something bad to them? I wasn't even planning to do anything to them!" (He was brandishing a nerf gun at the time, I might add for context.) When I gave him what was no doubt a skeptical look, he looked even more wounded and said that no one ever gave him the benefit of the doubt.

I thought of this when I read Elder H. Burke Peterson's statement that

…perhaps a supreme form of charity may be exhibited by one who withholds judgment of another’s acts or conduct, remembering that there is only one who can look into the heart and know the intent—and know the honest desires found therein. There is only one whose right it is to judge the success of another’s journey through life. Uncalled-for judgments or prejudiced feelings keep many from displaying a truly charitable attitude or a willingness to help those in need, even those in our own family circle.

Are not our own family members entitled to every consideration…? Too often, charity is extended to another when his actions or conduct are acceptable to us. The exhibition of charity to another must not be dependent on his performance. It should be given because of who we are—not because of how we behave.

I suppose Elder Peterson might have been talking of adult family members, or siblings; people who don't have any stewardship over each other and thus no excuse for judgement. I feel like I am always saying something like this to my children about each other: "I'm sorry, but you still have to be nice even if she isn't being nice back!" "It doesn't matter if he's doing that, you still have to treat him with respect!"

And I know that as parents, we do have more of a responsibility to try to "look into the heart and know the intent" (and I can say quite honestly that I do sometimes know exactly what is going through my childen's heads!). But I still had a moment of understanding and sympathy with my boy, as I thought about how deflating it is when someone assumes ill intent when you don't mean any. It made me resolve to try to do better at showing even my most perpetually offending children—the ones that have established such bad track records that really they don't deserve much benefit of the doubt—a little more consideration. I know they still need discipline. And I know it's possible to give firm consequences without being uncharitable. But it is sometimes hard for me, with these perpetual offenders, to do all of that in quite the spirit of love and charity that one would hope for.

Yet, perpetual offenders or not, family members or not, under our stewardship or not—everyone likes to be thought well of. All of us like to have other people assume that our motivations are good and we're trying our hardest. All of us like the chance for a fresh start, without our past mistakes constantly being brought up. It's true for my poor maligned nerf-gun-toting paragon of innocent brotherhood. And it's also true for other people that seem really undeserving. It's just a good reminder for me in general, so I'll quote it again: "Too often, charity is extended to another when his actions or conduct are acceptable to us. The exhibition of charity to another must not be dependent on his performance. It should be given because of who we are."

Other posts in this series:

• Conference Talks and Home Teaching by Jan Tolman
• The importance of our childish childlike prayers by Nathaniel Givens

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