Blanching Peppers

When Roland and I were on welfare, and we would get food from the bishop’s storehouse, I would bring home several bell peppers as Roland likes to cook with them and Jenna loves to eat them raw. But there were times when I sensed that the peppers might spoil before they were used. 

Our Relief Society president (at that time) was among the best (if not the best) cooks in the ward.  I remember asking her if we could freeze peppers.  She said I needed to cut them into strip and  blanch them first.  There must have been a puzzled look on my face as she continued with a definition of blanching.

I am to place the pieces in boiled water for three minutes and then lay them out singly on top of a paper towel (she lines them onto a cookie sheet) before packing them up for the freezer.

 

So a couple of nights ago, I noticed several small peppers (some honestly so small they may have passed for jalapenos or chilis)  and so I blanched them according to my understanding (the way I had done it before) and ended up with three sandwich bags full which I put into a quart sized freezer bag.

The next morning I noticed another batch of peppers on the machine – as though I hadn’t done anything.  There were probley about the same amount and sizes.  I started boiling water and cutting the peppers.  Jenna asked if she could assist.  Of course.

Jenna started slicing the peppers in round circles.  I explained to her that dad had taught me to cut them the long way.  But she’s got selective hearing and listening – like Tinkerbell does (see the end of this post for further clarification) 

Would you believe that I came home (from picking up Jenna) to find even more peppers?  Are you kidding me?  Jenna asks if she can slice them up.  I remind her to do it the long way.  For the most part the cuts have been made into circles.  I know Roland is going to ask me about it.  Oh, well

 

We still have several green tomatoes.  I had picked many and placed them in a bag.  Only a few have turned.  The majority remains green.  And we still have several green tomatoes on the vine. It's too bad I don't have all the ingredients I need to make a fine salsa.  I once tasted a salsa made from green tomatoes.  It was delicious! Perhaps one of the best salsas I've ever tasted.

Summer’s over. There’s been a chill in the air. It’s my favorite season!

Another Send Off - Returning Home

Before Jenna turned five she was introduced to Isaac – a cousin to Paula – who, at the time, was Biff’s platonic girlfriend. 

Roland asked Isaac how old he would be (or what age he’d just turned – I forget what time of the year it was) We both figured at least nine.  Both of us were quite floored when he answered seven..  He was too tall to be only seven. He was actually quite tall for nine.   Surely Jenna and Isaac were more than just two years apart.

     Isaac’s mom was involved with an Easter tradition.  Every year right after Church, the children would look for the plastic eggs that the adults had hid around the yard – her father’s yard to be exact.  Paula had outgrown the tradition and had asked Biff to bring Jenna so that Isaac and Paula’s brother weren’t hunting for eggs by themselves.  So from 2009 to 2012 Jenna has always done Easter with Isaac and his family.  

 

     Each year the hunt happened at Grandpa’s house – until last year.  Ruth and Nim had moved into a new house – she felt that her yard was ready.  Biff and Paula hadn’t spent much time together, but he was still friends with Isaac’s mom, Ruth.  She had asked him if he would assist with Easter set up.  He took Jenna with him and they spent the night.

Paula had told me that she came from a dysfunctional family.  I didn’t realize how dysfunctional until earlier this year. It’s true that Ruth had been excited to have Easter at her house – but it was not the same as it had been at grandpas.  I think Grandpa himself had been invited, but nobody else in the family had.  There had been a falling out, continuous squabbles – quite strained relationships among Ruth and her siblings.  It sounded horrible.  I feel quite grateful that I couldn’t (nor can) relate.

When Jenna was in first grade, Grandpa’s home was a sanctuary – I told her that if I was ever late picking her up, she was to wait for me at Paula and Isaac’s grandpa’s house. That was before the adult brother moved in and basically pushed his parents into the back room – taking away almost every inch of space from the house to store his worthless belongings and himself.  This year I told her NOT to go to Grandpas.  Even Ruth and Isaac would rather not be there.  I now understand why it takes him so long to cross the field.

Ruth, from what I understand, has always been insecure about her looks.  She has always felt overweight and unhealthy.  Others had made fun of her size and said unkind things that did hurt her emotionally.  But she was very strong willed and never unkind to anyone.  She was a friend to everyone – including those that had put her down. I thought she was beautiful both inside and out.

She did not have the Easter hunt this year.  Her health has been poor.  She was scheduled to have her hernia removed back in May.  But there was the issue with her weight.  She needed to lose several pounds and reschedule.  I don’t know how many times the surgery was postponed.  I had talked with her over the phone only a few times during the summer.  I had been to her house only one time.

Ruth’s home was always in chaos.  She just didn’t seem to have the strength to pick up after her two boys.  She considered them more than a blessing.  She said that Nim and the boys completed her life.   But somehow the boys didn’t appear to give her any help.  I don’t know why.  Isaac is such a sweet and thoughtful boy.  He has been a tremendous friend to Jenna. 

His little brother has a crush on Jenna.  He also looks older than he is – a little replica (well, smaller version – both boys are huge) of Isaac.  He just started kindergarten this year and Isaac will be starting junior high (or middle school) next year.

Ruth’s last surgery was scheduled for Friday, October 11.  She so wanted to lose the weight and get healthy not just for herself but for her boys. She died on the operating table.  I seem to be shedding more tears than with my own mom’s death.  I just feel so bad for Isaac and Marvin.  Marvin was so attached to his mother.  I don’t know if he will fully understand that mommy isn’t coming back or why.  He cannot depend on her anymore the way he used to.

Biff and I attended her funeral this afternoon.   We had gone early to attend the viewing.  I saw Ruth’s brother in the hall.  Her mom was near the casket – but that was all the family I saw.  No grandpa (her father) no Isaac, no Marvin, no Nim.  Ruth was in her casket smiling.  It was small, but still, it appeared as a smile. I don't think I've ever seen a smiling corpse before.

I visited with the principal of the school that both Isaac and Jenna attend.  She was the only person (besides Ruth) that I recognized. (How convenient it was for both of us that the funeral was just next door to the school.)  School let out before the funeral was over. 

You would think a family like that would have seen death before – but the funeral itself seemed to be a very unfamiliar situation for most of the family – at least from my point of view. I would imagine both Ruth and her dad have attended funerals before. 

Somebody escorted the two boys into the chapel.   I went to where they were seated and gave Isaac a hug and asked if he was okay.  He was holding a stack of homemade cards that I'm guessing had been created by his classmates. I started crying before I returned to my seat. I just couldn’t seem to pull myself together.

Nim joined his boys shortly after I sat down.  I’d never met him before and so introduced myself.  He looked broken.  They sat in the chapel with some other of his family members.  I don’t know if they were ever in the same room with the casket

Nim and the boys missed out on the family prayer as it was in the RS room and they were in the chapel.  Perhaps it was easier for them.  I don’t know. When the congregation was told to stand while the family filed in, Nim and his family stood along with the congregation and thus most all of the family members who filed in remained standing also. 

I think it is the first LDS funeral I’ve been to where I have seen the family stand and not take their seats once they had filed in. I know I've taken my seat as a family member while the congregation stood for us.

The services were nice.  Ruth is very well loved.  I enjoyed learning more about the great woman that she was.  I hope Isaac will remember the love and that he will take the advice of the speakers.  She will definitely be missed.

Passion for Parables

Hank and Stewart can look at the same tree and see it in two different ways.  Stewart will see a tree.  You can climb it.  You can sit under its shade when there are leaves.  Hank will visualize what that tree can become – what can be built with it.

Our theme this month is on “becoming more Christ like”.  My first lesson was on parables, why Jesus taught in parables, and perhaps the class could share some of their favorites and why.

Hank let out a sigh.  “I HATE parables!”  he said.  “I just don’t understand them.”

Stewart said he likes them.  Not only are they entertaining, but you can also learn something.

Why did Jesus teach in parables?  The Pharisees had condemned him from teaching.  Threatening him with prisonment, I believe.

But this is the answer he gave to his disciples: “Because it is given unto you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven . . .” – Matt 13:11                   

Those that were in tune to the Spirit found a message in these stories – while those that were hard-hearted (such as the Pharisees) saw him as nothing more than a story teller.  At least he wasn’t trying to profess religion, right.

It wasn’t until I was giving this lesson that it occurred to me that those being taught received the message that they needed to hear – and it may not have been the same message as others may have heard.  They took home the message that was needed in their lives at that given time.

Take “The Prodigal Son” for instance.  There may be one in the audience who finds the story as one of repentance and may see the father in the story as Our Father in Heaven who will always be excited to see us – no matter what mistakes we have made.

Another may see this as a story of forgiveness – that we love our children unconditionally and accept their willingness to return to us.

I had always looked at this story from his brother’s point of view:  “Are you kidding me?  I have worked my fingers to the bone while my brother is out splurging his inheritance and now you are ready to give him a fancy feast as though he has done nothing wrong?  When was the last time you honored me at a party?” 

For me, this has been a story about pride.  I need to change my heart and be as overjoyed as the Father that my brother or my sister is returning.  I should think of others and not dwell on how I was treated unfairly.  Some people compare this scripture to the parable of the lost talent or the parable of the lost sheep.  I compare it to the parable of the laborers in the vineyard who have sweat and labored all day only to have the last shift waltz in at the last hour to get the same exact wages as I do.  It wasn’t until I had this lesson that I looked at the parable in a new light.

Hank made many great comments as he participated in class.  One of them was that he believes that sometimes we tarry, sometimes we labor – which we do.  He also said that one of his most favorite things about church was/is the diversity.  He didn’t actually use the word diversity, but he said he enjoyed listening to others make comments and realize that there are different ways of looking at the same tree.

Of course the tree is just a metaphor.  I didn’t actually use the word “tree” anywhere in my lesson.  I focused on parables from Matthew 25 and the parable of “the Good Samaritan.”  I also pointed out that those who are in tune may find messages in other works of literature such as Les Miserable in which M. Russell Ballard uses the account of Jean Vel Jean  found in this post or Dieter F. Uchtdorfs mention of Dr. Seuss’s Grinch found in this post or my own mention of comparing the sneetches to the parable of the sheep and the goats or this post comparing Brave's "will-o-the-wisp" to Liahona.

Actually there is a lot we can find in what we watch. Allow me to use “Tinkerbell” as an example.  It doesn’t seem to matter which version – overall she seems to have a good heart, but ends up allowing pride to overshadow obedience to command. In the story of "Peter Pan" Tinkerbell jumps to conclusions and stops listening to what Pan or even Wendy is trying to tell her.  

In the movie "Tinkerbell" she isn't happy with her assigned role as a tinker and (despite the advise or command of the head fairy) uses her free agency to explore the roles of each of the other fairies hoping to find a more exciting job than tinker.  She ends up making things worse not only for herself but for all the fairies and all those that depend on the talents of the fairies.

And the most recent (at least that I know of) is abc's "Once Upon a Time" in which she meets Regina - the wicked and miserable queen.  Tinkerbell believes that she can repair damage that was done and help Regina regain hope and lose the anger.  The Blue Fairy tells Tinkerbell that Regina is too far gone and cannot be saved, but Tinkerbell insists she can.  She disobeys the Blue Fairy and puts her own self at risk - which results in hardening her heart and entering the same darkness as Regina.

But Tinkerbell is always given the opportunity to repent.  She may make the same mistakes again and again but eventually she is forgiven.  Our Father's love will always forgive.  We do make mistakes.  We need to in order to grow.  It's part of the plan.  It's what makes us stronger - if we have the desire to change.

My next lesson will be from this talk.   If we humble ourselves to be teachable, we will understand the message we need to understand at the time we need to understand it. The parable we think we know so well will all the sudden have new meaning.  God does speak to us through scriptures, but He also works through other parts of the media if we will allow ourselves to be humble so that we may see.

Please Check the Collar

After we got Highness (our dog) we went and got him tagged and I went online to change the information on the chip (though I don’t think it’s taken) and somehow lost the tag within the first week or two.  I sent off the renewal fees this morning – but I’ve been informed that he is to wear his original tag.  He had four of them hanging on him this morning.  And now there are two – the newest being the one given for his rabid shots.

When our first dog, Houdini, escaped, animal control picked him up all too often – though we did occasionally receive calls from others who had found him – those that took the time to find the information attached to his collar. We loved Houdini.  But we just couldn’t afford to bail him out of jail.  He was a good dog, but apparently some saw him as a threat.  

 

Highness is a good dog overall.  I’m surprised he hasn’t spent time in jail.  There was only one time when animal control was called – but I called him in not realizing the animal control was about to step in. Still, I wish I could attach the following note (for those times that he does escape and someone will take the time to read it:

Dear Sir or Madam::

            My name is Highness Romero. I live in West Valley.  I’m basically a good dog, but if you are reading this, I’ve obviously escaped.  But do not worry.  I will not harm you or your animals.  If you heard me yowling or barking, it’s because I am excited.  I would like to sniff your cat or dog.  Once I’ve done that, I will be on my way.

            You can call my owners if you would like to (provide number) but I don’t have dementia and I can find my way home.  I’m sorry if my yowling scares you.  I don’t mean to be frightening.  I don’t bite.  Even when I am taunted and your animal is biting me, I don’t bite back.  I am a good dog.  I’m also adventurous.  Please don’t call animal control on me.  My owners can’t afford it.  It’s really not their fault that I’ve escaped.  For the most part, they don’t even know I’m gone.

            Thank you for taking the time to read about me.  Thank you for being my friend.

                                                Love, Highness

Okay, maybe it’s a bit cheesy.  I guess the name and phone number I’ve written on the collar will have to do.

Lions of Little Rock

I love Love LOVE this book.  I think it’s the best piece of historical fiction that I have read EVER . . .

Kristin Levine did a lot of research before writing this book found in the juvenile fiction.  Originally she thought she would do a story on the Little Rock Nine but as she was doing her research she learned about the WEC (Women’s Emergency Committee) and the STOP (Stop this Outrageous Purge) and the battle of Segregation/Integration and the closing of schools that followed the Little Rock Nine.

The author’s mother had left Little Rock in 1954 – three years before the nine were admitted to Central High.  She hadn’t had a first hand experience in the events explained in the story.

The story is told through the eyes of Marlee, a twelve – thirteen year old white girl who makes friends with Elizabeth – the new girl who is light enough to pass for white, but really she is what was then referred to as colored or Negro.  Today we say African American or black . . .

The junior highs in this story are opened, but all the high schools are closed.  Marlee attends junior high, but her sister attends high school. Judy (the sister), has a hard time with it as she would like to associate with her friends and perhaps get educated as well. 

Marlee also has a brother, David, who is away at college.  She loves her brother and sister dearly and misses David as he is at college and then misses Judy as she is sent away to live with her grandmother so that she is able to attend high school in another city.

Marlee is a math genius.  She loves numbers.  She’s not great with words however.  She hardly ever speaks.  Many of her peers just assume she’s mute.

Elizabeth (Liz) is quite outgoing and assists Marlee in overcoming her shyness.  They work on a project together and practice their parts.  Marlee’s greatest incentive is a “Magic Squares” math book which Liz uses for a reward.

But when it’s discovered that Liz is not white, both girls are forbidden to have any further contact with one another – which upsets Marlee’s world even further.  We are then introduced to WEC and STOP and the racial prejudices and the fears and taking a stand and “mixing races”

The title of the book has symbolic meaning. And there are questions at the end of the book.  Thought provoking questions.  And references to non-fiction material of events that occurred in Little Rock in the late 50’s and early 60’s. 

We’ve come a long way.  Unfortunately not everybody has been on board with the whole racial issue.  The Klu Klux Klan has thinned out tremendously, but there are still some active members.  I’d like to send each member of each group a pedigree of every member – prove to them that no one of them is pure. 

The whole racial thing has bothered me my entire life.  And Jenna yells at the top of her lungs, “What difference does it make?”

It shouldn’t make a difference.  And it’s sad that so many believed that it did – or still believe.  We are all children of God.  I don’t get the trials that so many have put themselves through due to skin differences.  How stupid!

I’m so grateful for those who have made a difference, who have carved a path to make it a little bit easier for those who followed.  I hope the prejudice dies and having a different skin, or religion, or favoring gender or a tattooed covered body doesn’t threaten anyone.  We’re all different.  And still, we’re all the same.

Ahead of Schedule

When I was younger there were two bus routes that I could catch on State Street near my mom's house.  The #7 to Highland or the #5 to Parley's way.  One of them went all the way to the zoo - but I don't know which one.

When I was working downtown, the route names or destinations had changed.  There were four busses that ran along State Street between 6400 and 100 South.  I could catch the 25 Midvale or the 22 West Sandy where I had caught the two mentioned in the first paragraph.  Or I could walk over to the mall to catch the 24 East Sandy or 12 Murray.  It wasn't that big of a deal to walk from 6400 to my mom's house.  And even though 25 and 22 were closer, I preferred the coming home on the 24 only because I didn't have to cross the street to go back home.

Thus far Jenna and I have been fortunate not to have to cross the street when we have ridden to school.  We even have the option of catching a bus near the school without having to cross the street. We do have to cross a busy street near our house however.  Don’t like that much.  And then there is the walking.

It’s too bad that we can’t take Highness with us.  I think he would enjoy the walks – but alas – no dogs allowed.  And there is no way that Highness would ever pass for a service dog.  What a hilarious thought.

So this morning we left the house earlier than on Tuesday (Roland was able to take her yesterday – and occasionally she may get a ride from Biff in the future – depending on how well he takes care of the car, or if it will pass inspection . . .)

I don’t know why three out of four of my kids find it necessary to be to the school 30 to 60 minutes before the first bell rings.  But Jenna really does get upset if she hasn’t been given over twenty minutes to play before line up.  When there are snow days and children are kept inside – guess who will go out to the playground if given a choice?

We stood between buses – and ended up taking the same one we had on Tuesday – so it did not get her to school any earlier.  But I am already at the bus for the return home when the first bell rings.

Right now the walk from the bus stop to the school is comfortable.  The air is not too hot. Not too cold.  Perhaps a little cool in the morning – but I would rather have the coolness (or the cold even) rather than scorching rays of the sun.  Jenna’s probably the opposite.  But for me it is perfect weather right now.

Anyway, the bus did come early.  Two stops later the bus doors opened while the driver and passengers waited.  Jenna asked why this bus wasn’t moving.  “It’s ahead of schedule” which is a rare thing – or at least it was before TRAX. 

 

 All bus routes have changed – due to construction – do to modernization and growth.  I think that they all go to TRAX at some point along their route.  But I don’t know.  Perhaps I’ll become more familiar with the bus system as I go, but for now I am very limited in my knowledge.

The stop where Jenna and I have been getting off and on near her school is in front of an assisted living facility – the first one I had looked into when my brothers were both in denial that mom would need to be moved so soon.  It was the least expensive of all those we had looked at.  But it did not have memory care.  Mom could have escaped from there quite easily.

I was told that the stop will be eliminated.  Right now the bus actually goes through SLCC   – but after December it will remain on Redwood and no longer through the campus.  Though I have seen students get off and on.  Perhaps it’s just not popular enough?  I don’t know.  

I was going to suggest we try another option when I pick her up this afternoon.  But as we will have to do it three months from now, I suppose there’s no hurry.  We’ll try the alternate soon enough.  In the snow. Hey, but at least we’re both getting much needed exercise. And it seems like more quality time than having her jabber on endlessly while I am trying to concentrate on the road.

Perhaps one day when I am gone, she will look back and remember this time.  And perhaps it will be more meaningful to her than it is right now.

The Break-Up Was Mutual . . . sort of

All throughout my married life there have been only two times in which we’ve had extra money.  Both times were actually in December – the year before Jenna turned one, and the year that Jenna had turned two.

We’d gone to a lot of used rental cars – loans aren’t made.  They want cash up front.  And seven years ago we just happened to have it. (Well, almost seven years)  We purchased a 2002 Buick Century.  And it has been a tremendously great car – mostly due to prayer, I believe.

When I had the car inspected for the 2011 renewal, I really thought that it would be the last time.  And yet it passed inspection last year.  The Lord knew that I needed it to drive to my mom’s and run errands – though I do remember Jenna and I having bussed it on occasion.  I don’t like to drive. 

I don’t know that I’ve ever enjoyed it. I do like the control that one has with personal transportation – so long as the car or truck is working.  Having unreliable transportation can be even more frustrating than waiting for public transportation.

On Saturday I took the Saturn – it was behind.  Two hours later Roland found himself in the driveway with the Buick and a dead battery.  It really didn’t come as a surprise to me as I had been leery of its driving ability just the day prior (well, actually the last eighteen months – just moreso on Friday) and had wondered at what point it would croak on us. 

The battery has been recharged.  I took it over to an honest mechanic who was willing to run a diagnostic but found in the computer I had gotten one last year and asked if I had gotten the fuel pump I needed for over a year now. 

“No.” I said sheepishly. 

Biff and I could both see the mechanics mouth drop to the floor before he asked how in the world we were able to drive it for all this time.

“Prayer.” I said.  I honestly believe that is what has kept it alive all this time.  “My mom passed away earlier this month and evidently I won’t need a car anymore.”

We are down to only one car and three drivers – two who work on a schedule.  Then there is still the matter of transporting Jenna to school.   I DON’T want to do what we did at the end of her second year at Vantana.  I DON’T want to drive in early with Roland and then go pick him up and wait for the duration for him to get off the phone (recruiting students for online university) I don’t particularly wish to weigh myself down to waiting for UTA – but in all honesty I’d really rather not deal with driving anymore.  I am tired of the weather, construction and other drivers.  And I’m sure there are plenty who will be happy to know I won’t be behind the wheel anymore.  Roland is not one of them however.

I had made arrangements for Biff to take Roland to work and Jenna to school.  After all, if he is using our car (and has been for nearly six months now) he needs to make sacrifices too.  But that would require my picking up Roland.  I’ve had too much stress on the road at that time of day.  He can drive himself and Jenna and I will take the bus.  At least we did this morning.  It worked out okay.  But it is a beautiful day outside.  And traffic was light (I probably could have driven; but I have enough troubles backing out of the driveway.  Backing up into the driveway (in case the car will need to be jump started again) would be a nightmare for me.

I’m okay with it right now.  I may feel differently when the weather changes again.  But driving in it wouldn’t thrill me either.  There are pros and cons either way.  Jenna and I will both get some needed exercise walking to and from the different bus stops.  We can cut the cost of our car insurance (though it appears that bus fare will be more) and best of all – I won’t have to drive. 

Look What I Made!

Jenna’s favorite princess, without a doubt, is Brave’s Merida.  Each November first she has announced what her costume will be for Halloween for the following year and each year she changes her mind – though there seem to be fewer changes. 

I know better than to plan her costume before October – although with the last two years she has only changed her mind two or three times compared to the initial eight (life was just so much easier when I was the one picking out costumes for her)

In November of 2010 she announced that she would be Big Baby from Toy Story 3.  Really?  After nine months I decided that maybe she really was going to go through with it and started looking for something she could use – though having my then seven year old running around the neighborhood in a dirty onesie did not thill me nor did I have a clue how to do her eyes so that she could still use both of hers in order to see.

.  I was grateful when she finally changed her mind and decided she would be Juliet from Gnomeo and Juliette. 

A red dress and white apron from Savers.  I really thought I would find something I could use.  But fortunately she wanted to change it again – this time to Tiger Lily.

Oh, Joy of joys!  I could do an Indian costume for really cheap!  I used two paper bags that I got from Winco and cut the fringe and allowed her to do the decorating.  She thought it the coolest costume ever!

Last year she decided to do something different.  For ten months she sounded serious about going as a teapot.  I had called Joh to get his expertise opinion on how I should do it.  He came up with a great idea.  But she changed her mind again.  She would be Velma from Scooby Doo. 

            I thought it would be less expensive and perhaps better made to purchase items from Savers – though Roland seemed gung-ho about purchaseing a costume from the Halloween store.  I don’t think it was worth the purchase.  The good news is that she can wear it again (at least for the time being)

            But this year she would like to be Merida.  The dress is from Savers, but I made the wig.  My initial thought was to make it out of about 6-8 boas – but I never got beyond the thought as the purchase for the boas themselves was over foty dollars – never mind that I had nothing to fasten the boas to.

I had purchased a pirate cap for a dollar.  I found Fun Fur  at Wal-Mart.  It was even the perfect color – unlike the boas I had found.  I wish I had thought to ask Joh if he would make time to make one, or if he had any suggestions for me – but I can honestly say that I did indeed make the wig all by myself adding one to three strands of hair at a time..  And it was for under ten dollars.

No, it is not true that I had done it all by myself..  Jenna occasionally helped to cut strands or thread the needle.    I think for the most part the work is pretty sloppy and the wig itself is obviously amature(as I really did have a hard time seeing what I was doing).  But Jenna is very excited about it.  And that is what counts.

I’ll push for another teapot again for next year.  Now that I have done the wig, perhaps I am ready for the teapot. I may miss another week or more of posting as I struggle to thread the needle and try to make it work.

Another Sunday

          When I was younger I remember having only two meetings on Sunday then.  There were three for priesthood holders – but for the first fifteen plus years of my life I recall there being only two meetings.

            I don’t recall the specific times or the length of time that took place between the two meetings.  I remember Sunday School being first, coming home to have dinner and returning to the church at a later time for Sacrament meeting.

            The other meetings were spread out during the week.  (e.g. Relief Society was on Tuesday nights, Mutual on Wednesday nights and Primary was on Thursdays after school.) but as the growth of the membership had taken place outside of Utah, the meetings were changed so that all meetings would take place on Sunday.

            It wasn’t until my last year of mutual (Young Men/Young Women formally called MIA – Mutual Improvement Association) that the meetings were changed to three in one block.  Relief Society (or Young Women’s – though I don’t believe we called it that then) was first followed by Sunday School and then Sacrament meeting was last. 

            So until I got married, I remember Relief Society always being first and Sacrament meeting being last.  But in Kearns in was the opposite.  Sacrament meeting was first.

           

            I think most wards have Sacrament meeting first – or at least that is my belief.  Currently I attend a ward in which Relief Society is taught first and Sacrament meeting is held last.  The stake President says as long as he is president that is the way it will remain.

            So here is my church experience for today:

Combined Meeting

(every fifth Sunday the RS and Priesthood meet together)

            Bishop gave the lesson.  His prepared lesson was to get us motivated for General Conference which takes place next weekend. 

            He started off by asking questions about “Why do we have general conferences?” “What are some things that can be learned?” and “What was your favorite talk from 1985?”  1985?  Is he serious?  He would have been in primary.

First I had to visualize where I was.  April 1985 was the last General Conference in which Bruce R. McConkie would give an address.  I knew when I watched him give his speech that it would be his last. 

I also remember the opening prayer being the absolute longest prayer I’d ever heard in my entire life.  No, I did not time it, but it felt like it had been somewhere between eight minutes and an eternity.

            I was on my mission.  It was a hard area.  Neither my companion nor I were in the right frame of mind to even receive instruction.  I don’t think a lot of the elders were overly thrilled with the area either.  I looked around to see how many had the same attitude as my companion and I shared.

            Bishop had asked for participation by asking us to share what Conference talks had made an impact on each of us.  I must admit that I do not retain things very well.  I remember last night’s session was quite beautiful and I remember thinking, “This is a great talk.”  Sadly I can’t tell you anything about what was said without referring to it again.  And I’m so grateful that we have ample opportunity to do so.

            So as I was trying to think of an example in which I could actually name the speaker and come up with enough words to paraphrase my mind wandered to General Conference October 1992.  That was the longest weekend of my life.  That was the last weekend that dad was upon the earth.  The TV was turned on to Conference but I don’t think I got anything out of it.  And even if so, I can’t remember any of it.

            General Conference April 2004.  My water broke on Friday.  My mom and my sister and my husband were all in the birthing room with me.  The TV was turned on to Conference on Saturday.  Jenna still hadn’t come and I KNOW I don’t think I got anything out of it.  I was exhausted Sunday.

            I’ve had some really nice Conference weekends – unfortunately those are not the ones I thought about.

Sunday School

            The classroom was full!  First time ever we had run out of chairs.  Six youth and four leaders.  I love it when the Young Men leaders sit in.  They participate and add thought provoking ideas and wisdom.  There’s one youth who will participate by answering questions.  I love the participation.

            The theme this month has been on commandments.  Some people have left the Church because they have found that the commandments are too restricting – which they’re not.  But sometimes freedoms aren’t understood until the restrictions have been removed and then there’s that “a-ha” moment.

            Wade shared his upbringing with family rules in addition to the commandments – restrictions that he didn’t understand as a youth but certainly appreciates right now.  One of those restrictions was that he couldn’t hang out at the mall.  Everybody hung out at the mall.  Was this for real?  It was mortifying.  But now he understands.  Two of his “mall friends” are now in prison.  And he just recently attended the funeral of another.

            I shared an experience that happened to me when I was fairly young.  The weather had turned from warm summer to breezy fall and mom said that if I wanted to play outdoors I had to wear a sweater.  Well that was humiliating.  None of my friends wore sweaters!  I had a sweater on when I left the house.  I intended on removing it before I played with my friends.

            One friend, who had heard my mom’s “command”, said that she was “lucky” because her mom didn’t care if she wore a sweater or not.  I don’t know how old I was, but her words hit me hard – “My mom doesn’t care . . .” and I thought myself the lucky one, the blessed one.  I had a sweater on because my mom cared about me.  And it stayed on.  And I tried not to question her commands because I knew that she did it out of love.

            James talked about the Word of Wisdom – which is a commandment for LDS members.  James reminded each of us that we all have the freedom to choose.  Each of us could smoke if we wanted to.  But the smoker doesn’t necessarily have the option of NOT smoking – it has become an addiction.  The smoker has become a slave to his or her habits and although they think they have freedom – for most it’s a long painful road to finally quit and remain smoke free.  (That is just one example) 

            Participation usually always makes for a very great lesson

Testimony Meeting

            The second counselor made the announcement that the bishop’s wife would be released from teaching Sunday School.  A chorus of groans could be heard by many members who attend her class and are not anxious to see her leave her teaching position. I for one am excited as she has accepted the position of activity’s day leader and that will be helpful to Jenna.

            After the counselor bore his testimony, he opened up the meeting for the rest of us who would like to bear our testimonies. I felt impressed to bear my thoughts of gratitude – to my family and friends and Heavenly Father, for the support, for the celebration of mom’s life, for goodly parents – for the bishop’s wife’s new position.  I went up to the stand.  But Brother Cole beat me to the pulpit.

           

            I think every ward has a Bother Cole – the one who drones on and on endlessly and the Spirit seems to have left the room.  His talk did start off as testimony but after two minutes he started rambling the same words over and over – even after the bishop told him to sit down.  He just doesn’t get it.

            The ironic thing was that his focus seemed to be on sharing testimonies and not wasting one’s time.  How about following your own advice and stop wasting the time that belongs to all of us?

            I should have stayed seated when I saw him walking up to the stand.  I don’t know how long he was at the pulpit – his head was in the way of the clock.  By the time I stood up there was only thirty minutes left and I had lost my train of thought.  If I hadn’t already been on the stand, I would not have gotten up.  I think my heart must have hardened when Brother Cole rattled on endlessly, wondering if I would even get a turn.

            I’m not the only one who lost my train of thought.  The sister who’d come up behind me said only one sentence before she returned to her seat.  I think the 11 to 14 people behind us eventually returned the Spirit back to us.  Still I was a bit upset about the way I had handled the situation and wished I could have a do over.

            Actually I will have an opportunity to bear my testimony after Conference – provided that the weather is drivable and I actually have a working car.  I plan on returning to mom’s ward where my testimony will be more meaningful (to me at least) as I still have a connection with so many of the members of that ward – the ward I still consider family.  For that I am grateful.