What may be required

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Sunday Morning Session of the October 2002 Conference.

It was strange to read Elder Christofferson's talk from 2002, "That They May Be One in Us," because I had just been reading his talk called "One in Christ" from April 2023! At first I thought maybe I'd gotten mixed up and was reading the same talk again. He quotes several of the same scriptures (maybe he actually just adapted his old talk! Is me noticing this his worst nightmare? Was he up all night before conference worrying about it, with his wife reassuring him, "No one will ever notice, dear"? Haha!). You can tell his thinking has expanded and deepened over the years, though, and he's incorporated more recent revelation from President Nelson into his thinking. It's cool to think that he's been studying this principle of unity for (over) twenty years now and still finds new insights worth speaking about! And I like it when apostles have long-running themes.

The part that struck me most from his talk (this was from the old one) was this:

Surely we will not be one with God and Christ until we make Their will and interest our greatest desire. Such submissiveness is not reached in a day, but through the Holy Spirit, the Lord will tutor us if we are willing until, in process of time, it may accurately be said that He is in us as the Father is in Him. At times I tremble to consider what may be required, but I know that it is only in this perfect union that a fulness of joy can be found. I am grateful beyond expression that I am invited to be one with those holy beings I revere and worship as my Heavenly Father and Redeemer.

I was just thinking about what has been required of him. He was a member of the Seventy at the time of the first talk. Now he's an apostle and will die in God's service. Who knows what has happened in the twenty years between now and then—what trials his children have had, what challenges he's faced and overcome. Heartaches maybe no one else knows about. I'm willing to bet there are a lot of them. And yet, here he is, still striving for unity with Jesus and the Father—still desiring that above all. 

I "tremble to consider" the cost of discipleship sometimes too. But I really do want to be tutored in that submissiveness "in process of time," as Elder Christofferson says. I hope I can weather trials and keep progressing in my faith and knowledge as he has!

Other posts in this series:

A Woman of Faith—by Rozy

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Sunflower year

There are always sunflowers at this time of year (and how was this three years ago?!). But this year I think there are more than I've ever seen! WAY more! Could that be? Maybe something to do with the wet spring/long winter we had? I don't know, but for whatever reason, every empty field, every stretch of shoulder along the roadside, every half-cleared construction site, is covered with golden yellow sunflowers right now. When you drive along Mountain View Corridor it's like gliding through a yellow ocean! I love it!

I went out with the kids one evening to take some pictures. This looks like such a nice field of waving grasses, doesn't it? It was knee deep with puncture weeds and tumbleweeds and spiky thorn-weeds! I don't even know their names! They don't deserve names! They were malevolent! We hiked through them anyway, though, so we could get in among the flowers. Poor Junie was in shorts and got scraped all over. We carried Gus and Clementine. 

It was worth a few scraped ankles, though, because the flowers were so thick and pretty! And because we'd had to endanger life and limb to get there, it felt kind of wild even though we were quite near the road.

Gus's attempt at a smile. ??

Better.

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Not a passive power

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Priesthood Session of the October 2002 Conference.

We had an interesting discussion in ward council about ministering. The bishop was saying how a lot of ministering is happening organically among ward members—people are loving and serving and helping each other—but ministering assignments are not necessarily getting done. Then someone else brought up how he's talked to a lot of people who feel guilty all the time because even though they are doing so many good things—giving rides to a neighbor's kids', delivering a meal, sending an encouraging text message—they feel like it doesn't "count" somehow if they aren't ministering to the people they're "supposed" to minister to.

I can relate to that feeling a little bit, because ministering is something you always feel like you can do better, and it's easy to focus on what more you should (always!) be doing and forget the good you ARE doing. And I also know that so many people are good and do good. So many people serve quietly, without assignment and without notice. And obviously that kind of service does count with God; it is so important to Him! He sees it and appreciates it.

But. I've also been thinking about that "ministering gap" Elder Gong talked about, where people think they're doing enough ministering, but those they "minister" to aren't actually feeling it. And I've been thinking about how many times lately I've heard leaders tell us to do more ministering—not less. More. And to do it face to face, in people's homes. And I've been reflecting on how, despite my own desires to "be good and do good," life just gets so busy and so pressing that unless I have an assignment and feel a sense of duty, I often just don't manage to find time for spontaneous service and involvement with others' lives.

So, I don't know. I don't know if, as a church, we're pressing too hard or doing too much or doing too little. I don't know if, as a church, we're managing "higher and holier" in our ministering—or not. But I do think I am personally more aware of the importance of ministering than I used to be—more committed to it—and I have more of a desire than I used to. Of course I make an effort partly because I "should." But mostly because I want to…and the concepts of should and want to don't seem as far apart as they used to, either. 

Furthermore, I love the way our church handles ministering. To me, ministering assignments distill my vague feeling of "desire to serve" down into an easy channel for action! They give me a way to serve others that's manageable and personal. They help me reach out to women I might not naturally have been drawn to, and they help me learn to love those women. In my last two wards, I can think of at least 16 women I have awkwardly reached out to, served, laughed and cried with, and eventually felt a true connection with—purely through ministering. There is no possible way I would have just spontaneously, out of my good desires, found and befriended all these women on my own. It's miraculous! Of course I try to minister to others in my path too—neighbors, friends, people I have stewardship over, people I work with in my calling. But it really comforts me to know that because I have a ministering assignment (and so does everyone else), no one ought to be overlooked.

That was a very long preface to two quotes I liked from President Faust's talk to the Priesthood brethren. This whole session was so good—just a classic, wonderful, old Priesthood Session (I miss those!). Elder Ballard gave the "Raise the Bar" talk about missionary work. President Hinckley gave one of his awesome, hard-hitting "rise up and be men!" talks. And President Faust, quoting David O. McKay, said this:

“The very essence of Priesthood is eternal. As it finds expression in life it manifests power. We can conceive of the power of Priesthood as being potentially existent as an impounded reservoir of water. Such power becomes dynamic and productive of good only when the liberated force becomes active in valleys, fields, gardens and happy homes; so the principle of power is manifested only as it becomes active in the lives of men, turning their hearts and desires toward God, and prompting service to their fellow men.” 

If we aren’t serving others, then the priesthood really doesn’t benefit us because it is not a passive power. Brethren, be generous with the power of blessing which comes through the priesthood, especially to members of your own family. Remember that the Lord has said, “Whomsoever you bless I will bless.”

That's what I feel about the ministering assignments I've been given. They help unlock the power I ought to be using all the time to serve others. My calling does the same thing, and so does my role as a mother, of course. All those divinely-given roles give me a place to keep my covenants and a way to demonstrate my commitment to God. Obviously I don't always live up to those covenants, but I'm so grateful for at least the chance to put them into action! Then I loved what President Faust said to sum it all up:

The Master taught us that “whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain.” Some of the most rewarding times of our lives are those “extra mile” hours given in service when the body says it wants to relax, but our better self emerges and says, “Here am I; send me.”

I've found that to be true! Of course I fall short of the mother, wife, friend, and ministering sister I want to be. But it's rewarding to even make the effort!

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Part VII: Creatures of the sea

I was talking to my niece one time and she said something like "I'm not really a 'beach person.'" I was thinking about that while we were in Puerto Rico. Am I a beach person? What is a beach person? If it's someone who likes to sunbathe in a swimming suit—no, I am not one either. Good at surfing? No. Tan, with windswept, salt-water tousled hair? No. Likes to eat sand, as some of my babies seem to have? No. But I love the beach. I've loved it all this time even before I knew the water could be warm! I love watching the waves. I love just…I don't know, looking at the endless expanse of ocean, and listening to it. I love picking up tiny, pathetic pieces of shells or polished pebbles of agate and becoming attached to them, as if they were beautiful museum-quality specimens. So the other reason, besides the biobay, that I was excited about Vieques was that I read it had "some of the best beaches in the world." I don't know how one would even choose a "best beach." You'd rank them based on being beautiful, I guess, or peaceful or unspoiled. But who decides?

I still don't know, but whoever they are I think I agree with them. The main reason the beaches here felt "best" to me was that it felt like we were the only ones in the world to ever visit them! Of all the beaches we visited in a few days on Vieques (and we went to lots!)—there were other people on two of them. Maybe three. And even those times, it was maybe one other little group, way down at the other end of the sand, who left a half hour later. So it almost felt like Sam, Sebastian, and I were alone on some enchanted isle, enjoying the endless sky and the warm, calm, turquoise water.

The other "best," I guess, was the snorkeling! I haven't ever snorkeled much, but I was amazed at how many beautiful and colorful fish were even on the (comparatively) crowded beach we went to in Rincon, just swimming right around by the people! And here where there was no one around—I felt like we were in a nature documentary. Being able to swim and see under the water opens up a whole new dimension to the beach. It gives you something to do when you get tired of gazing at the ocean from the top side. It effectively doubles the beach's space, so you feel you're getting to see twice as much! The terrain underwater is always quite different than I would have imagined it, with trenches and hills and huge fields of water grasses you didn't even guess at from above. And underwater it's so quiet and strange. Even the filtered light is alien. I always came out with a sense of unreality, disoriented, as if I were returning to earth from another planet.

Another reason I think I'm a "beach person" is that I love seeing the water in different lights. I love how it changes all through the day, starting before sunrise when it might be pale and grey—under the marine layer in California and Oregon, misty and chilly—or, here in Puerto Rico, lavender as the sky starts to lighten. 

Even after sunset when you think it must have already passed its prettiest time, the ocean suddenly seems to turn into a huge silver mirror, as if it has collected all the light that just faded from the sky and spread it out paper-thin over its surface.

Sam and I went down to the beach early one morning. It was already hot, of course. The sun was peeking out through the cloud layer in the distance.

Looks like the beginning of a solar eclipse!

Ah, there's the full sun.

If there's one thing we like, it's crabs. Especially tiny hermit crabs.

The morning water looks so shimmery!

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Part VI. Blue Stars

This last place we stayed came about because I was looking up things to do in Puerto Rico, and I started reading about the bioluminescent bays there. I feel like we have learned a dozen different times about bioluminescence in homeschool; I'm not sure exactly why or in which units. (Electricity? Light? Animal kingdom? Insects? Oceans?) Anyway, I've always thought it would be cool to see it in the ocean, and one of the bays in Puerto Rico is supposedly the best and brightest one in the world. It's on a little island (off the island of Puerto Rico itself) called Vieques. First I had to look up how to say that (it's almost like V-A-K's) and then I started to get really interested in this tiny island. It costs a lot to fly there from San Juan airport. But then I learned you can drive to a different city and take a ferry, or fly a small independent airline from a smaller airport, and it's lots cheaper. The ferry is like $3 a person! People online were complaining a lot about the ferry (it's unreliable, weather is fickle, non-residents can get bumped off if there are residents who need to ride, etc.) so I almost gave up on the idea, but then I found a few threads where people talked about how the ferry had been privatized in the last couple years and was now way better. So I thought maybe we would risk it!

We got ferry tickets online a month in advance, but even though we had them of course I was nervous the whole time that we'd miss our time or go to the wrong place or there would be a storm or something. (That was the one trouble with going to this whole separate island…it added another ticket/schedule/timetable variable which could possibly go wrong.) But we got there in plenty of time and the only trouble was having to wait around in the heat for a half hour…it almost made me wish we'd been later!

The ferry itself was super nice, though. Air conditioned, with comfortable seats like a train. And the ride over to Vieques is quite fast, only 40 minutes or so.

It was fun to go up on the top deck or the back deck and watch us speed through the water!

Here we are coming up on Vieques. It's a long, thin island. On the map it's so small I didn't know if we'd be able to just walk around the whole thing or what! Ha! But it's not THAT small. We did need a car to drive around. (You can't take rental cars on the ferry, so we rented another car on the island.) And it takes quite a while to get to the far beaches on either end. Maybe an hour to drive the island lengthwise.

The water was so pretty!

When we got off the ferry, we saw these two missionaries coming to get on it! Of course we said hi enthusiastically. They were coming on to the mainland for Mission President Interviews, but their area was here on Vieques. It just so happened that before the missionaries came along, we had met some fellow members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints by the ferry (I don't remember how we figured that connection out, but maybe because of a BYU shirt or something? And you can often just tell…) who were coming to stay with the husband's former mission companion, a man had left the church years ago and was now living here on Vieques working as a bartender. So…our new friends gave the missionaries their old friend's contact information and invited them to visit him soon! :) Kind of fun to be part of that whole interaction.

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Part V: Existential Gardening Questions and an Ideal Birthday

We loved the place we stayed in Luquillo. The guy who owned the rental house lived in another house on the property, which can be awkward, but it was fine and we didn't feel that "barely-sanctioned intruder" feeling you sometimes get. He was the epitome of the expat high-powered corporate lawyer who left it all behind to live on a mountain top and do organic micro-farming. (I don't know what his real story is, but I'd put money on it being something like that.) When he showed us around, he had a sort of proud-but-also-laid-back vibe: "So here's the passion fruit vine; it's kinda taking over the place, ha ha." It made me wonder how one even has a yard in the middle of the rainforest. What IS a yard, really? How do you "plant" a garden when everything just grows? Does gardening consist mainly of fighting off the plants you don't want? How many months can you go before the rainforest starts encroaching on you with its own ideas? 

I have so many questions.

We had bananas, papayas, passion fruit, star fruit, and pineapple in our yard—those were just the things that were ripe. There may have been more. And speaking of strange gardening issues, I learned that a banana tree CAN ONLY GROW ONE BUNCH OF BANANAS. In its lifetime! That's it! Then it dies! But a new banana tree (and technically speaking they aren't even called trees) can sprout up from the side, out of the roots, and grow next to the old one. So, does a banana orchard just…migrate over time? If you want to plant bananas do you have to clear a whole row for the your one tree to proceed down over the years? If your neighbor plants a banana tree will it eventually be in your yard?

Also, do you feel bad that the tree which produced your bunch of breakfast bananas is now deceased, never to bear fruit again? Tropical fruits are so weird.

That's the passion fruit vine, growing up the tree

Star fruit tree

Close up

Baby pineapple

Our host said we could pick whatever fruit we wanted, and when we arrived at the house there was already a bowlful of fresh fruit there, so we got to try everything. There were also some flowers from the yard in vases. What would it be like to just go out and assemble a bouquet like this from your own yard??

Fruit cut up for breakfast. The star fruit is really good—I had it in Hawaii too but I thought it was better here. It reminds me of kiwi, a little. The passion fruit you think is going to be weird because you can eat the seeds, but they are just nice and lightly crisp, like poppyseeds or something. And the pulp around them is good and sweet. I like papaya but Seb thought it tasted deeply "wrong" somehow—not spoiled or anything, just strange to him. And of course the tiny bananas are so delicious. I wish we could grow them here! (One tree at a time.)

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A season of unanswered questions

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Afternoon Session of the October 2002 Conference.

I've often read Elder Scott (and others, I'm sure) reminding us that it's not helpful to ask "why me?" or "why did this happen?" sorts of questions when we are enduring trials. But I liked the elaboration Elder Lance B. Wickman gave on how that mindset helps us:

Still, we mortals quite naturally want to know the why. Yet, in pressing too earnestly for the answer, we may forget that mortality was designed, in a manner of speaking, as the season of unanswered questions. Mortality has a different, more narrowly defined purpose: It is a proving ground, a probationary state, a time to walk by faith, a time to prepare to meet God. It is in nurturing humility and submissiveness that we may comprehend a fulness of the intended mortal experience and put ourselves in a frame of mind and heart to receive the promptings of the Spirit. Reduced to their essence, humility and submissiveness are an expression of complete willingness to let the “why” questions go unanswered for now, or perhaps even to ask, “Why not?” It is in enduring well to the end that we achieve this life’s purposes. I believe that mortality’s supreme test is to face the “why” and then let it go, trusting humbly in the Lord’s promise that “all things must come to pass in their time.”

Other posts in this series:

Blessed are the Peacemakers—by Rozy 

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Part IV: Rainforest views and waterfalls

I didn't want to stretch this trip report over weeks and weeks. I didn't want to break it up into a zillion parts either, but would one post with 5000 pictures have been better? I don't know. At any rate, we are pressing on. I love the rainforest! Love it! It seems like it must be the most beautiful place in the world! I suppose this is, amazingly, the third rainforest I've been to…although temperate rainforest (the Redwoods) doesn't quite seem to count. 

What surprised me is that the rainforest in Puerto Rico looked/felt different from the rainforest in Hawaii! It makes me wonder if the rainforest in Brazil, or Peru, or Africa is different still? I suppose it must be. That makes me wish I could visit all of them. (When I die and become a being of light and spirit…I will!)

After we got to our rainforest house, we spent the next few days either in the National Forest rainforest—El Yunque, it's called—or just outside it, in what was still the same rainforest, but not National Park land. I was actually quite worried about this, because you have to have tickets/reservations to get into El Yunque, and I had read lots of people online saying they hadn't been able to get them. You used to be able to get tickets 30 days in advance online, but in July of this year they changed the policy so you could ONLY get tickets 24 hours before you wanted to enter. (And now, as I'm writing this post, I read that as of the end of August, you don't need a reservation at all anymore! Make up your minds, people!) Anyway, I was so afraid we wouldn't get any tickets! And then we would never get to see it!

But, once we were actually in the town of Luquillo, I saw that the actual National Park was not ALL the rainforest. The actual forest extends outside of the boundaries of the Park, so if you can't get El Yunque tickets—there is still a lot of rainforest to see! Especially if you are staying right there as we were!

Then we actually DID manage to get tickets too, for both days we wanted them. I just logged on to the Recreation.gov website right at 8 am when the tickets opened up and we were lucky! I'm so glad, because I loved El Yunque…but if we hadn't gotten tickets, I think we still would have been okay.

Anyway, the pictures in this post are of actual El Yunque. There is a nice visitor's center with a walkway over the trees, some outdoor exhibits, and then a small "discovery trail" where some of the plants are labeled. It was cool, but probably the least cool part of the forest we saw.

The ocean looks so far away in this picture. It felt close in real life. Like you could just hop over the trees and be there.

It was worth going to the visitor's center just for these parrots. They are Puerto Rican Parrots native to this rainforest. I think they are endangered, but making a comeback. Anyway, we were happy to see the "Green Caws" (as we all thought of them) and excited to show the pictures to Gus. :)

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Part III: Missing roofs, a calm sea, and foolish and blind guides

Our next house in Puerto Rico was back on the east side of the island. At first I was trying to find us a place on the south side, down near Ponce. And there were some cool houses down there! But the place I finally settled on was up farther north, so we decided to drive the southern route on the way so we could at least see what it was like!  We left Aguadilla and drove down the west coast. I had hoped we might go all the way to the southwestern point at Cabo Rojo. But when the time came it didn't seem worth going so far out of our way, so we just angled down on the main highway, following roughly the yellow line on the map above.

There were so many interesting things to see along the way. Everything was green and jungle-y, though there didn't seem to be the same sort of bumpy hills we'd seen on the top of the island. We went through a few heavy rainstorms that would turn the road into a river for a few minutes and then move just as suddenly away. We saw a lot of the roadside food truck/restaurant areas we'd started to notice everywhere. 

Even just looking at the houses was interesting. I noticed that almost every house had iron grates over the windows and doors and garages. In San Juan I'd thought it might be for crime prevention, but even the country houses had them, so I think it was just the style. The iron work was often quite intricate and decorative!

It was beautiful to look up at the green hills and see colorful houses tumbling down the hillsides. We were so intrigued by this little town that we drove in to get a closer look. I don't even know what it was called!

But it was cool. The painting on this part had obviously been coordinated—by whom? the city?—and there was a little street fair going on.

It was so hilly! I liked this colorful set of stairs.

You can see all the iron gates and grates across porches and windows, and more of those crazy tangled electrical wires! I like these colorful houses here, less over-the-top than the other spot.

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