He will whip you back again

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Sunday Afternoon Session of the April 1984 Conference.

Here is something I thought was interesting. President Hinckley quoted Thomas B. Marsh, who as you probably know, was the President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles when Joseph Smith was alive, but then left the church and fought against it for a time. This quote is from when Brother Marsh, later in life, came to the Salt Lake Tabernacle and spoke to a congregation there:

My voice never was very strong, but it has been very much weakened of late years by the afflicting rod of Jehovah. He loved me too much to let me go without whipping. I have seen the hand of the Lord in the chastisement which I have received. I have seen and known that it has proved he loved me; for if he had not cared anything about me, he would not have taken me by the arm and given me such a shaking. 

If there are any among this people who should ever apostatize and do as I have done, prepare your backs for a good whipping, if you are such as the Lord loves. But if you will take my advice, you will stand by the authorities; but if you go away and the Lord loves you as much as he did me, he will whip you back again.

I just thought it was interesting thatA. He recognized that his trials were from God, and
B. He saw them as a sign of God's love for him.

That seems like very profound knowledge for one who had rejected the church! Did he come to it gradually? Did he see it only in hindsight? I think it would be good for me if I could learn to see all hardship as fundamental proof of God's love!

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To give all I have

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Sunday Morning Session of the April 1984 Conference.

I suppose I've been in a kind of…wistfully nostalgic mood lately. Or "pre-nostalgic," maybe, as I contemplate how fast my my oldest children are hurtling toward adulthood? Okay, let's be honest, this is practically my permanent state of mind—but it only gets worse as time goes on, and it HAS been particularly strong recently. So maybe that led to my finding this talk, President Russell M. Nelson's very first talk in Conference, particularly poignant. I just couldn't stop thinking about it. There he was! New to the apostleship…overwhelmed…probably nervous…never knowing what was to come, where he would end up, what he would be. But _I_ knew, reading it, that someday this man would be the President of the Church. It felt…well, as I said, poignant.

Saturday of April conference of 1984 has been circled on our calendar for many years, for that date was targeted as the first time in my life that our only son would be old enough to attend general priesthood meeting with me. Last night, that long awaited goal became a reality. Brothers and sisters, little did we know that on that day my name would be presented as a member of the Council of the Twelve.

He also (adorably) talks about how the shock of it sent his daughter into labor. His twenty-second grandchild was born the night before he gave this talk! :)

Then he says this:

Feelings of commitment well up from the depths of my soul. My sweetheart, Dantzel, and I first made those covenants in the temple of the Lord over thirty-eight years ago, to consecrate our lives to the service of the Lord. Today, I reaffirm that promise, to give all I have to the building of the kingdom of God on the earth. In accepting this call, knowing that challenges, charges, and keys will be conferred and that buffetings will likewise come, I commit my effort, my energy, and my all. 

I felt such love for our dear prophet, reading these sentiments he expressed thirty-five years ago. And though I can in no way compare my own sacrifices to his, I felt a shock of recognition as he talked about the covenants he'd made years before, and how he reaffirmed them now.

There was a moment of great personal significance recently where I had that same realization: that the choice to give all I have is one I've already made. Of course I have to keep renewing it; keep choosing it—"reaffirming" it, in President Nelson's words. But in that moment of clarity, I suddenly knew that there really wasn't any more question about if I could or should or wanted to promise God my all. That part was done. The only question was, would I keep the commitment I'd already made—to give all I have.

And (though of course I actually carry this out with widely varying degrees of failure), I knew immediately, even as I had the thought, that I DID want to. I really did. With all my heart—even if it meant "challenges and buffetings" would come.

It is cool to think that President Nelson was having those same thoughts during his own moment of personal crisis and testing, and that…what's more…he has DONE what he promised he would do. He has given his all! I love him for it. And I hope I can look back at my life and say the same in thirty-five more years!

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Mother's Day with Marigold

Sharing Mother's Day with Goldie's birthday this year was wonderful! I remember so well the Mother's Day when she was born—rushing to make her arrival after keeping me waiting for a long, long week past when I thought she'd come—a strong little pink bundle with a robust voice: never one of those thin little meowing baby cries for this Goldie-girl! :) I guess her birthday will fall on Mother's Day again every six years (or so?) and I can't believe we've already been through that first cycle. 

It was such a lovely Spring day. The lilacs were gorgeous.

Goldie with her dolly--who is named Lilac, incidentally

She chose popsicles to be her birthday dessert, and I was delighted not to have to make a cake! :)

We had to improvise a "candle" for her to blow out after we sang "Happy Birthday." Ha!

Goldie got an elephant sleeping bag for her birthday present. 

We also took Nutmeg on a walk!

Every year for Mother's Day, Sam makes dinner for me in the style of some restaurant or other. He makes a menu (always beautifully designed and a work of art in itself) and everything. It is the BEST thing, and the only reason I don't usually post about it is that I know people are sensitive about Mother's Day, and I'm afraid it will make everyone else feel that their own celebration is inferior, hee hee. :) But maybe this year enough time has passed that feelings are not quite so raw? Anyway, this year was one of the best. It was a "restaurant" serving all kinds of fancy avocado toast. Such as:

The food was amazing!! My only regret was that I didn't have enough room to try EVERY SINGLE kind of avocado toast suggested on the menu.

And, to finish out this post, a few miscellaneous pictures from May:

Two readers (maybe three, if you count the owner of those toes)

A "flight simulator" Seb whipped up out of cardboard one day (the foot pedals really tilt back and forth, as does the joystick)

Our beautiful temple

I just love walking along this blossom-lined path—it only stays that way for a couple weeks a year!

Same path, with blossoms now replaced with leaves.

And Daisy playing the duet part for Junie at their piano recital. They were darling.

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Feed them we must

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Priesthood Session of the April 1984 Conference.

My favorite part of this Conference was a story shared by Elder Boyd K. Packer. He gave a talk about the Savior's charge to "feed my sheep," which is something I had been thinking about anyway since we studied it recently in our Come Follow Me lessons. Here is the story:

I did not serve a regular mission until we were called to preside in New England. When I was of missionary age, when I was your age, young men could not be called to the mission field. It was World War II, and I spent four years in the military. But I did do missionary work; we did share the gospel. It was my privilege to baptize one of the first two Japanese to join the Church after the mission had been closed twenty-two years earlier. Brother Elliot Richards baptized Tatsui Sato. I baptized his wife, Chio. And the work in Japan was reopened. We baptized them in a swimming pool amid the rubble of a university that had been destroyed by bombs. 

Shortly thereafter I boarded a train in Osaka for Yokohama and a ship that would take me home. Brother and Sister Sato came to the station to say good-bye. Many tears were shed as we bade one another farewell. 

It was a very chilly night. The railroad station, what there was left of it, was very cold. Starving children were sleeping in the corners. That was a common sight in Japan in those days. The fortunate ones had a newspaper or a few old rags to fend off the cold.
On that train, I slept restlessly. The berths were too short anyway. In the bleak, chilly hours of the dawn, the train stopped at a station along the way. I heard a tapping on the window and raised the blind. There on the platform stood a little boy tapping on the window with a tin can. I knew he was an orphan and a beggar; the tin can was the symbol of their suffering. Sometimes they carried a spoon as well, as if to say, “I am hungry; feed me.” 

He might have been six or seven years old. His little body was thin with starvation. He had on a thin, ragged shirt-like kimono, nothing else. His head was shingled with scabs. His one jaw was swollen—perhaps from an abscessed tooth. Around his head he had tied a filthy rag with a knot on top of his head—a pathetic gesture of treatment. 

When I saw him and he saw that I was awake, he waved his can. He was begging. In pity, I thought, “How can I help him?” Then I remembered. I had money, Japanese money. I quickly groped for my clothing and found some yen notes in my pocket. I tried to open the window. But it was stuck. I slipped on my trousers and hurried to the end of the car. He stood outside expectantly. As I pushed at the resistant door, the train pulled away from the station. Through the dirty windows I could see him, holding that rusty tin can, with the dirty rag around his swollen jaw. 

There I stood, an officer from a conquering army, heading home to a family and a future. There I stood, half-dressed, clutching some money which he had seen but which I could not get to him. I wanted to help him, but couldn’t. The only comfort I draw is that I did want to help him. 

That was thirty-eight years ago, but I can see him as clearly as if it were yesterday.
Perhaps I was scarred by that experience. If so, it is a battle scar, a worthy one, for which I bear no shame. It reminds me of my duty! 

Young brethren, I can hear the voice of the Lord saying to each of us just as He said to Peter, “Feed my lambs. … Feed my sheep. … Feed my sheep.”

Elder Packer discusses in his talk how we are surrounded by people who are spiritually hungry. But some of them may not even realize they are starving. He says,

Almost any returned missionary will have a question: “If they are starving spiritually, why do they not accept what we have? Why do they slam the door on us and turn us away?"…

Be patient if some will not eat when first invited. Remember, all who are spiritually hungry will not accept the gospel. Do you remember how reluctant you are to try any new food? Only after your mother urges you will you take a little, tiny portion on the tip of a spoon to taste it to see if you like it first. 

Undernourished children must be carefully fed; so it is with the spiritually underfed. Some are so weakened by mischief and sin that to begin with they reject the rich food we offer. They must be fed carefully and gently. 

Some are so near spiritual death that they must be spoonfed on the broth of fellowship, or nourished carefully on activities and programs. As the scriptures say, they must have milk before meat. But we must take care lest the only nourishment they receive thereafter is that broth. 

But feed them we must.

This made me think about my children and how often what seems to me "bad behavior" may be a symptom of spiritual undernourishment—of a need for more understanding or compassion, or just more love. It's hard to think that way when the children are fighting or hurting each other! But Heavenly Father is able to see ME with that kind of compassion when I'm behaving badly in some way. I would like to learn to see others that way too, and to "feed them" more patiently with God's love!

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The Lord will give us the needed confirmation

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Afternoon Session of the April 1984 Conference.

One thing I worry about fairly often is whether or not I am doing all the things I meant to do, wanted to do, in the premortal life. I know there are so many things I'm blind to now, and I just keep hoping I can somehow get enough light and knowledge to see my way toward fulfilling the mission I was meant to carry out.

I liked these thoughts from Elder Neal A. Maxwell on "the plan"—by which he means Heavenly Father's plan for all of His children—but which also encompasses our own individual plans, of course.

The plan places a striking emphasis on present human freedom to choose. Yet some of our present circumstances may reflect previous agreements, now forgotten, but once freely made. 

The plan always points the way, but does not always smooth the way, since individual development requires an “opposition in all things.”  

The Lord will give us the needed intellectual and spiritual confirmation concerning His plan, but on His terms and in His own way. 

“If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself.” 

Truly, of all the errors mortals could make, God’s plan of salvation is the wrong thing to be wrong about! 

No error could be more enormous or more everlasting in its consequences! 

No wonder this Church and its people go to such great lengths and expense to share the fulness of the gospel concerning this plan. 

No wonder the Lord wants the plan taught plainly and repetitively. 

And why not? It is God’s plan—not ours! And, given the unimpressive outcomes of man’s plans to solve the world’s problems, aren’t we glad!

Yes, I am glad! I'm so glad there is a plan for me. And I'm glad for Elder Maxwell's promise that  Heavenly Father WILL reveal and confirm that plan to us as I need it (but I have to keep being patient as He does it "on His terms and in His own way").

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