Power and Trust

 This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Morning Session of the October 1995 Conference.

Man, there was a lot of powerful doctrine taught in this conference! I don't even know which talk to choose. I loved Sister Beckham's talk, Elder Scott's talk, and President Packer's talk, but I guess I'll just highlight a couple quotes from the first two because they're about things I've been studying.

First, Sister Beckham had so many interesting things to say about power. She talked about bullies and fear and power in elementary school, and then told about how when her handicapped brother was born, she discovered a new kind of power:

A force that was just the opposite of my outside world started to be felt inside. There seemed to develop a new dimension of love, tenderness, compassion. I watched my mother and dad make adjustments in lifestyle to lovingly care for a child who in his five-and-one-half years never learned to sit or speak but who warmed an entire room with his smile. The whole town seemed more gentle, interested, concerned. My outside fears were diminished. I felt securely attached because my mother and brother were there. My parents were home at night. Our home seemed more warm, full. There was a different power. It seemed to grow from the inside. It felt more permanent, unlike the temporary power I felt with my friends. It was calm and peaceful—the power of goodness, the power of love.

Then she relates the story of a girl whose mother had multiple sclerosis and was bedridden. The girl told of the blessings of having her mother close by and available, even though the mother couldn't do many of the usual household tasks. After the mother died, the daughter said,

“One of the hardest moments in my young life was the day I returned home from school to an empty house and walked down that long hallway to her bedroom. My built-in counselor and confidante was no longer there, but she had given me those eternal, intangible gifts of love, wisdom, and acceptance. I will be forever grateful for her goodness.”

Then Sister Beckham explains: 

This strong woman, though physically helpless, had the power to love, to motivate, to inspire, to perpetuate righteousness, to do good. 

I'm so interested in the ways we can gain true power through righteousness and through the priesthood and our temple covenants. I've pondered those words from Doctrine and Covenants 121 a million times—"without compulsory means." It becomes clearer to me every day that "compulsory means" will never work to bind my children to Jesus Christ. Obviously only their own choices can do that—and yet where is my role? What can I do? What power or influence can I summon when their own choices are hasty or foolish or ill-informed? I want so much that power Sister Beckham describes—to love, motivate, inspire, perpetuate righteousness. Elder Eyring has talked about it recently (and me too)—how a righteous mother can "mold living clay to the shape of her hopes." I pray every day for that kind of influence, and though I'm always afraid I'm not righteous enough to truly call such power down, I have to remember that Jesus Christ, from whom the power comes, IS good enough.

That goes along with the part I liked from Elder Scott's talk on trusting the Lord. I've talked before how trusting the Lord involves some component of trusting ourselves—in that we trust Him to work through our imperfections. But I like how Elder Scott phrases it here, that trusting God means almost forgetting about our own feelings in some ways:

This life is an experience in profound trust—trust in Jesus Christ, trust in His teachings, trust in our capacity as led by the Holy Spirit to obey those teachings for happiness now and for a purposeful, supremely happy eternal existence. To trust means to obey willingly without knowing the end from the beginning. To produce fruit, your trust in the Lord must be more powerful and enduring than your confidence in your own personal feelings and experience.

In other words, it doesn't matter if I think I'm not good enough/strong enough/patient enough to have the influence I want to on my children. I have to say to myself, "I trust the Lord MORE THAN I trust my feelings that I'm not going to succeed at this. He has said that He will help parents trying to teach their children. So even though my personal experience and feelings tell me Your children won't listen to a single word you say (ha ha, but I mean it—sometimes I really think that)—or You've tried and tried to teach this and nothing makes any difference—I have to trust God who sets forth the contrary view: they will listen, it will make a difference.

Elder Scott continues:

To exercise faith is to trust that the Lord knows what He is doing with you and that He can accomplish it for your eternal good even though you cannot understand how He can possibly do it. We are like infants in our understanding of eternal matters and their impact on us here in mortality. Yet at times we act as if we knew it all. When you pass through trials for His purposes, as you trust Him, exercise faith in Him, He will help you. That support will generally come step by step, a portion at a time. While you are passing through each phase, the pain and difficulty that comes from being enlarged will continue. If all matters were immediately resolved at your first petition, you could not grow.

I don't need to see HOW on earth someone like me can possibly have enough power to help change people, hearts, and minds. I don't even need to see continual proof that it is happening! I just have to be patient and trust that God knows what He's doing, and that He put me where I am precisely because I can have an influence there. It seems incomprehensible, but that's what God has promised! Then Elder Scott says this, which I love so much:

Your Father in Heaven and His Beloved Son love you perfectly. They would not require you to experience a moment more of difficulty than is absolutely needed for your personal benefit or for that of those you love.

Trusting God, I think, means I internalize this truth—feel it—hold onto it when things feel hard. Priesthood power is real. It's real in that Jesus has the power to save ME and bring me through hard times. And it's real in that He also lends His power to me, through covenants—granting me a real and literal ability to draw those in my circles, those I love, back toward Heavenly Father. Trust in Him, not my own merits, unlocks the power only He can give.

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Infuse my spirit with the Spirit

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Young Women's Session of the April 1995 Conference.

Good quotes from this session:

Sister Bonnie D. Parkin, on scripture study:

It’s not always easy, and there are things I still don’t understand. But when I look past all that, craving the Lord’s companionship, the scriptures infuse my spirit with the Spirit. They will do the same for you. They will enlighten you, lift you, comfort you, strengthen you. They will envelop you in a warm blanket of heavenly love. How do I know? Because they do that for me. It is Heavenly Father’s promise to us. It is eating at the Lord’s table.

And I love President Hinckley's matter-of-fact refusal to allow any sort of self-pity:

Some of you may feel that you are not as attractive and beautiful and glamorous as you would like to be. Rise above any such feelings, cultivate the light you have within you, and it will shine through as a radiant expression that will be seen by others.

 

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Races, Bubbles, Missions

I posted before about the end of cross-country season, but it was not, in fact, the end. Or else I'm out of order somewhere, but at this point, who can remember? Malachi and Daisy had some beautiful races at the end of their season; the type of races cross-country runners SHOULD run, with dirt paths and hills and rivers and little gullies to run through. It's especially fun when Sam and/or the older boys can come with me, so I don't feel like I have to watch the little ones nonstop, and I get to wander around and enjoy the outdoors a little. Although I also like sitting and watching the kids play on playgrounds. They are so funny, and the things they choose to do on the playgrounds change so much over the years—from Gus toddling up and falling down the stairs a thousand times and inching backwards onto on the tiny slide, to Ziggy bravely climbing walls and sliding down the tall slide with no hesitation, to Teddy climbing up and sliding down fireman poles and hanging from the first monkey bar hopefully, to Goldie and Junie racing across monkey bars and even climbing up on top of them. I love watching it all.

We did some other things in October/November too…

This was a fun race because it was on Halloween—well—the day before Halloween, but Teddy wore his costume and there was a Halloweeny feeling in the air. :)

• Paper airplanes we made for Family Home Evening  • Clementine is a breadstick  • Another creative way to read the same book at the same time.

Another family home evening, blowing bubbles this time. We used everything we could scrounge up to be bubble blowers, and some of the kitchen utensils (slotted spoon, strainers) actually worked quite well! I love those four sympathetic bubble-blowing faces watching Daisy blow her "square bubble" in the last picture (click to enlarge).

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Covenants keep us new

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Sunday Afternoon Session of the April 1995 Conference.

I like little babies so much. And sometimes I get a bit discouraged thinking about how after coming from heaven and being so sweet and pure and trusting and innocent, they basically just…go downhill for the rest of their lives. I include myself in that number. I was quite a good and sweet and cute little girl! A less good and sweet teenager. And NOW I am hardly good and sweet at all! Ha!

I'm…mostly…joking, obviously, because I know we have to go through some growing pains as we learn to think and act and choose for ourselves. I know Heavenly Father designed His plan perfectly for our good. I'm not really doubting that…I just find it hard to see, sometimes, our progression—when it feels like we are mostly regressing from our childhood innocence. So I liked this quote from Sister Bonnie D. Parkin's talk about covenants:

The sacrament enables us to renew our covenants. Thus, if we keep those covenants with honor and exactness, we can feel as fresh and as pure as we did when we were first baptized. We can feel as committed to a temple sealing as we did as a new bride or groom. We can feel as loved of God as our sweet little Jordan did when she received her name and blessing. Covenants keep us new.

I know I probably can't ever go back to being as uncomplicated-ly sweet as baby Clementine! (If I ever WAS that sweet. Which seems unlikely.) But I like the idea that our covenants help us renew those parts of ourselves us that are good and that want to be good—while helping us grow out of and leave behind the bad kinds of childishness and selfishness.

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Sweet relief from the concerns of this world

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Sunday Morning Session of the April 1995 Conference.

This session was Elder Eyring's first as an apostle, and Elder Maxwell described him as "a special blend of brightness and sweetness." I thought that was cute. Elder Eyring really is very sweet! He reminds me of my dad that way.

President James E. Faust gave a really good talk about the unity we should feel as followers of Christ even as the church expands worldwide. I thought this was a really interesting quote to think about in the context of some of the church's choices even today:

As the humble servants of God…travel throughout the world, we are compelled to ask: What can we do for the peoples of the earth? What can we give that no one else can? What can justify the great expenditure of effort, time, and means to “go … into all the world,” as the Savior commanded? We cannot change the economy of countries. We do not seek to change governments. The answer is simple. We can offer the hope promised by the Savior: “Peace in this world, and eternal life in the world to come.”

It was just a good reminder about the true mission of the church, the purpose that is more important than any political or governmental considerations—that of bringing hope in Christ, and leading others toward eternal life. I've had to remind myself multiple times lately that it is not the purpose of the church to speak out/agree with me regarding whatever social ill I'm currently worrying about (even really important ones). It's the purpose of the church to gather Israel and prepare for the Second Coming, and that might mean speaking out, or remaining silent, on different issues than I'd think! It's hard to get in that mindset, but it is so FREEING when I can do it—to stop worrying about the "economy of countries" or trying to "change governments" (not that those things are bad to try to do, of course!!)—and instead just feel the peace that comes from focusing on Jesus Christ and what He most wants His children to know!

President Faust quotes President Hunter saying “The key to a unified church is a unified soul, one that is at peace with itself and not given to inner conflicts and tensions” (I loved that talk too and wrote about it here.) I take that to mean that through true (not self-righteous) righteousness and trust in God, our souls can be at peace, at which point we'll be ready to simply love others rather than judge/compete with/be defensive toward them. And that's where President Faust takes the thought too:

Only as we seek to be purged of selfishness and of concern for recognition and wealth can we find some sweet relief from the anxieties, hurts, pains, miseries, and concerns of this world.

I love the idea that leaving selfishness behind is not merely a sacrificial act, but one that brings "sweet relief" for our OWN "anxieties, hurts, pains, miseries, and concerns"! And, our own burdens lightened, I assume we then have more strength to help bear those that others carry.

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A book, a book, we have a book, and we need no more book

I guess most kids who really love to read think they'll write a book someday. I had a few fits of inspiration as a grade-schooler, where I'd start writing about orphans or some such, and dream of writing the best book ever. I could get them (the orphans) into some dire situations. But no matter how much I tried, I couldn't ever get them out again. And thus I discovered that I was not meant to be an author of books.

In high school I started to get serious about poetry, and I found that lots easier. Shorter, at any rate, and less thorny! My dad would say, "But what's it about?" and I would sigh and roll my eyes and say if he didn't get it I couldn't explain. (Sorry, Dad. Wish I had another chance at that. Not that I'd still be able to explain much, but I could be nicer about it.) I had a few poems published and it was cool—satisfying, you know? Just to know I wrote something and then someone else liked it. But who really reads poetry? No one, that's who.

I had some essays published too—things I'd polished and crafted, not utter drivel like half the things I write here on this blog—but I was still pretty sure I'd never have the patience and/or fortitude (remember those orphans?) to write a real book. And that's about how things stood several years ago when one of my very best friends emailed me and said, "Hey, want to write a book together?" And because she is one of my very best friends, and we grew up together and she tends to make me reach for my Best Self, I said what I would have said to NO ONE else. I said, "Well…okay."

I really only agreed to make Rachael (perhaps you know Rachael…lucky you, if you do, and I've also mentioned her from time to time on this very blog) happy. But there were various other factors which helped me not back immediately out of the idea. She had written a book already herself, which I'd helped her edit, so I had great faith in HER writing skills. And she let me read a manuscript two other friends of hers were writing together, and I thought…"Well. Maybe we could do that." And then she was just the right amount of encouraging and low-pressure. "Let's just try it for fun. If nothing comes of it, that's fine. We don't ever have to show it to anyone." Yep, I was pretty sure I'd never want to show it to anyone.

We brainstormed a bunch of ideas. We like fairy tale retellings (who doesn't?). We like Robin McKinley and Diana Wynne Jones and Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. We've probably read, oh, 80% of the same books as each other. At any rate, I don't know who thought of it, but we had the idea of making an adaptation of one of our favorite Dickens books, Our Mutual Friend. (You should read it! And then see this wonderful miniseries.) And then we thought of adding in magic…because, why not? So we made an outline, sort of, and then we just started writing a scene here and a scene there. We wrote on a google document so we could edit each other's stuff, which we did so much that soon we didn't know which was which and whose was whose. Sometimes we'd both be on the doc together late at night, and we'd see each other's cursors typing along of their own ghostly accord, and we'd type silly messages to each other and then start laughing so hard that our husbands would wake up to ask us what on earth was going on.

It was just over three years ago we started. We wrote fairly furiously for about 5 months, in stolen snatches of time, usually late at night but sometimes impatiently through dinner and interruptions or in early-morning quiet. And we not only wrote the book, but we finished it, amazingly. It changed so much from the original version that we couldn't fully rely on Dickens to get us out of the trouble we got our characters into—but somehow with each other as inspirer and editor and cheerleader and occasionally stern taskmaster—we eventually got them all out and into their happy endings where they belonged. 

And then we revised it, we sent it off to publishers, we waited, and we lived the rest of our lives. We had children. We sent children on missions. We visited each other across country borders. We were prevented from visiting each other across country borders. Rachael wrote a whole-nother (is that just a Utah-ism? or do other people say that?) book, our book got rejected by a couple publishers, we lost interest and re-gained interest, we gave it to readers, we gave it to our writing group, and we revised and revised and revised again. We were "practically done" for 6 more months of checking details, editing, SO many more details…

And now finally here we are. With a real book that we wrote with our own four hands. We love it. And you can buy it and read it yourself! If you want to, of course.

But I haven't told you the best part! The best part is that Sam, who we had hoped might maaaaybe have a tiny bit of time to just do the simplest quick drawing for our cover, or at least recommend one of his students to do it for us…Sam came through like the hero of every story, and painted us the most amazing and beautiful cover ever, AND did six interior illustrations which capture the Dickens mood perfectly. I'll post about them in a couple days. (And he also did our about-the-author portraits in the same style.) But they increase the value of our book a thousand-fold (and we would never in a million years have been able to afford him, in the usual way of things, so we are pathetically grateful that he wanted to be part of this project!).

Here is the link on Amazon. Just in time for Christmas. :) There is a paperback and even a hardcover version! We're so happy with how it turned out. And we hope some people will read it, and like it.

https://www.amazon.com/Complementary-Magic-Marilyn-Nielson/dp/1777138752/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1638558725&sr=8-3

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