May You Allow Inspiration to Guide You

A virtual stake conference was scheduled for Sunday.  Of course we couldn’t watch it at home as we had no internet.  Our options were to either miss church or watch the video at the church building. I think Roland was planning on working with connecting the internet as soon as it was warm enough, but I told him if he wanted to be blessed that he would have to go to Church with Jenna and me.

When we hold ward meetings each Sunday, the podium and microphone are wiped down between each speaker.  They did not do that at stake center in Roseburg (we did not go to Roseburg but watched the broadcast at the building in Myrtle Creek) and it was kind of freaking me out – especially since two of the stake presidency were quite moist with emotion.  I guess when you are on the stand behind the speaker you don’t notice what the speaker is doing or how he/she might be spreading germs around unintentionally.  I personally don’t enjoy sitting behind the speaker as I get more out of the talk when I can watch the person speaking.

I hadn’t grabbed my notebook when we headed out the door.  At first it felt too dark to even see what I was writing.  Jenna sang but I did not.  Even if I could have seen the words I have a dry cough from the fan being left on all night. It’s so awkward singing behind a mask at that.

One of the counselors shared a thought about ignoring inspiration is denying yourself privileges and blessings that God has intended for you.  I wish I could remember the exact quote, but I don’t.  It reminded me of a paragraph I had written down to give to the elders:

“Often we think that we want our lives to go a certain way – or perhaps it is expected of us.   Perhaps we acknowledge deity and ask for assistance to take us down the road of our desires.  God does provide us with assistance, often sending us tools that we may “grow” our own blessings. But often we don’t realize that what has been “planted” is not at all what we had asked for.  I have learned to trust my Father in Heaven’s guidance – even if it is in a direction I did not believe I wanted to go.  We can choose to follow in faith or we can be misguided by our own weakness or pride.  We can find tools that will help us on the path to eternal life or we can find paths that may lead us to destruction.”  from this post.

There was a couple who gave a talk together.  Their talk was about ministering. She talked about a sister who had been inspired to bring her dinner which triggered my own thoughts of receiving potatoes the year I was pregnant with Jenna (see here) and how touched I am about it still.

 There was another talk about prayer and specifically asking ourselves three things during the meditations: 

– what have I done today I shouldn’t have done –

 

What have I not done today that I should have?

 

What am I grateful for today

 

Jenna had heard that before but I don’t think I had.  If I did I didn’t commit it to memory – which by the way has not been that great. I left church feeling spiritually fed and wished it had been recorded so that I could watch it again.

After we returned home Jenna made lunch for all of us and I went outside with Roland who managed to make a temporary connection to the internet and so did not have to try and connect with the internet at the church.  Prayer works.

Finishing Saturday

          We had signed up to feed the missionaries for Saturday.  Roland had requested them to come at 4:00 but they said they could not come until 5:00 – which is their normal eating time.  We were doing another breakfast dinner but with a few changes – such as having waffles. Roland believed he could start the dinner at 3:00 and have it ready by 4:00.  I think with the amount of time he spent trying to repair the cable, he would just assume have not had to deal with the missionaries at all.  However the arrangements had already been made.

With the cable disconnected and his working to get it repaired, I started a countdown which I don’t think helped his mood at all.  I thought it would be nice if he showered before our breakfast dinner got started.  I ran over the list in my mind – eggs, waffles, sausage and bacon.  It seemed like there was something else but I could not figure it out otherwise I would have started the hash browns right away as they seem to take the longest to cook. But Roland had me start on the waffle batter while he was in the shower.

 Before I had even started my foot found some water which I slipped on.  I did the splits before falling onto my behind – which is not the only part of me now bruised.  My arm hit a spindle on the chair as I was falling down.  I think that hurt more than my butt.  Jenna was in a panic.

“MOM!  Are you okay?”

“No,” I was upset about how my day had gone.  I was on the floor crying and she offered a prayer that we would continue to get through the day and that we could keep focused on the positive.   was NOT a good day overall.  I suppose there were a few perks to it – like when Jenna offered a prayer that we would focus on the highlights and not allow the day to get us down.  I made the batter before Roland returned and Jenna started in on the waffles.

I then took my shower and returned to set up the chairs and food outside.  I was on eternal hold with the cable company when the elders arrived and Roland was still cooking dinner.  They had arrived early. Jenna took the dog outside and kept the missionaries company until Roland and I were able to join them.  I brought out the waffles and hash browns and told them to go ahead and bless the food and get started – which they did.

Meat still in the oven eventually made its way out and the eggs were still on the stove.  We brought the dog inside so that the Elders could enjoy their food without her lustful looks.

Roland made a temporary switch over to the local antenna.  I rolled my eyes as TV just isn’t that important to me.  It didn’t do anything for the internet.  Roland watched TV while I went into our room to type some thoughts for the missionaries as they had requested.

A Week Without Internet - well not quite . . .

         I’ve heard it said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions – meaning if a person doesn’t act upon the thoughts he or she has the purpose is unfulfilled.  For three to four weeks the leaders of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saint Western Region representatives have been asked to call those that they preside over for ministering assignments call those that they minister to in order to learn how long it would take for everyone in the area to be contacted.  We were given a heads up that we would be making calls on Saturday for a mock earthquake drill which would go into effect that morning.  All of the calls were to be made within a two hour frame beginning at 8:00.

My plan was to offer a fervent prayer before I started calling each of my sisters as I have not had much success at finding many who will answer the phone – especially on a Saturday morning.  No time is a good time and there is no way an earthquake can be scheduled so that everyone could be notified by email.  Chances are high that we will be without internet during an earthquake, possibly without electrical power or cell phone reception.  Ward members would have to be contacted another way.

On Thursday I remembered the mock earthquake would be taking place for Saturday morning.  I hadn’t set a reminder.  I hadn’t checked my email on Friday.  It did appear that the RS pres had tried contacting my phone on Friday night but I was unable to return her call.  I had forgotten about the mock drill. 

On Saturday morning Jenna had turned on a “scary” movie to add to her “31 days of Halloween” that she has attempted each year.  Roland had started out watching with us but seemed to have disappeared for a while. When he finally returned had said he had gotten hold of five of his families.  Earthquake drill!!!!  Oh, no!  I scolded myself for not having remembered and started calling those sisters I have saved to my phone – without having said a prayer before I started.  Of course not a whole lot of sisters had answered their phones.  I left messages with most of them – though I predicted it would be in vain. 

I had told Jenna that I would drive her and another young woman to the dollar store so that they could pick out items for the upcoming activities scheduled for tomorrow and the following week.  As I was headed in that direction anyway I decided to check on two sisters that I hadn’t gotten a hold of.  I pulled into one sister’s driveway sat there while talking on the phone with three different sisters.  By the time I got to the young woman’s house I had received two more phone calls indicating that we were out of time.  What??? It was barely 9:30.  But apparently they had changed the time from 8:00 to an earlier time.  I must say I was quite flustered before 10:00.

Roland has a yard project going that should have been finished but is still in the works.  I don’t know if I was out there with him when he accidently cut the cable.  So on Saturday we were without cable which was not big deal for Jenna and me personally – but losing the internet was a big deal.  Roland would need it for work Monday and Jenna would need it for school.  Jenna asked if she could just stay at the church after seminary in order to do her schooling.  Richard thought he could join her by bringing his work to the church if it came to that.  The earliest the cable company can come is on Thursday.  I currently really don’t need the internet – though I learned there are times in which I can/will miss out by not having it.

  On Sunday Roland was able to get a temporary fix for reception until the cable company can get here.  I was going to remain offline until a more permanent fix.  Only I was asked to post something to the Relief Society page.  I had messages and checked them but not my notifications.  I remained offline yesterday and today Jenna asked for assistance with a question on migrating ancestors and needed to make a connection to find a story that isn’t much of a story after all.  I decided I would go ahead and post to my blog instead of waiting the six days as planned. More to come.

Head or Tails: Introvert or Ambivert

I have always considered myself an introvert – well maybe not always.  I was evidently extroverted in my early childhood.  School changed that.  School was not a good experience overall. I felt excluded and found myself withdrawn from wanting to be a part of life.

                            Illustration by Joshua Seong. © Verywell, 2018.

I remember being comfortable in the company of certain adults and grew to accept those who were decades older than me or several years younger than myself.  It was a long time before I was comfortable with any peers of my own age.  I never liked crowds or artificial people.  I enjoy learning but not in a structured environment.  I am better at learning when it isn’t a requirement.

I didn’t realize that it was possible to meet in the middle as AMBIVERT exists in the middle of introvert and extravert.  I am Ambivert.  Or have been at least.  Lately I realize just how much of a recluse I have become during this pandemic.  

I don’t like to go shopping.  Roland usually makes a day of it.  Four to six hours in Roseburg.  I’d rather write, organize, read, hang with Bonnie, scrapbook or sleep.  I really don’t like being around people right now – masks or not.  Don’t breathe on me.  Don’t look at me.  I would just assume find a sink hole and have the earth swallow me up.

I’ve attended a few meetings with either a small amount of sisters, missionary meetings, leadership meetings and lately the Book of Mormon class as the missionary meeting time has been changed to Wednesdays after Book of Mormon instead of Sundays in order for patrons to be corralled out and away from the building.  Sundays still feel empty sitting in spaced pews with our masks on – though I have enjoyed the messages which have been delivered.

But one morning meeting with the sisters was uncomfortable just because we were so near the freeway and I could not hear the discussion.  When I turned up my hearing aid it only enhanced the traffic sounds.

The first Book of Mormon class had us spread out and we discussed conference.  I didn’t mind that.  However young women have their activity at the same time.  Lots of youth.  Little in the way of masks.  What - are they immune?  We traded rooms for the last one.  I felt too cramped and left after only a few minutes.  I went outside and walked around just to get some fresh air.  I don’t think I cough as hard when I’m standing up as I do when I’m sitting down.

I really don’t wish to be with people anymore – or perhaps my brain is just trying to convince me so that Sundays won’t seem so dismal.  I think I’m losing my ambivert traits and am becoming withdrawn again.  I am not a depressed.  Depression is not necessarily connected to introvertism just as seeking recognition is not necessarily a part of extrovertism.  There are many times I prefer solitude.  It has always been easier to be by myself than with a group of people I don’t really feel connected to. I do tend to get depressed sometimes when I am in a crowd.

Our Future Hangs by a Thread

I watched some of the town hall council last night.

It was nice to hear Biden speak in full sentences without being interrupted.

I did not watch Trump. 

I have heard him speak before.

I’ve gotten to the point in which I loathe the sound of his voice.

I liked having separate sessions.

 

Last night I had a dream that Trump lost the election by a landslide. 

I was in Utah counting ballots with my cousin and we were both acting childish.

In the dream she was pro-Trump. 

In real life she is definitely NOT.

Enjoyed this most recent ad sponsored by Lincoln Project.

Dictatorship or Abortion?

 From my observation the best leaders are those who lead by example.  They don’t seek validation.  They lead by instinct. 

Many have been put in that position because of their ability to take charge in a positive way – not because they bullied their way in.

I suppose Donald Trump does lead by example – just not in a positive way. He is always seeking validation and would like to be worshipped by all and not just the uneducated.  If it weren’t for the other two branches of government, I suspect Trump’s picture would be plastered all over the place. His pictures would be no smaller than the size of buildings.  His face would be plastered all over Mt. Rushmore.  His face would be on currency and postage stamps.  What an ass.  And I don’t mean the four legged animal.

A great leader will listen to those who he/she serves.  Donald Trump doesn’t listen to anybody – not those who are there to serve him, not his family members, NOBODY.  He’s a jerk (and that is putting it nicely).

 Recently I posted this video with these questions:

                        Can you relate to anything in this ad?

I wasn’t endorsing Joe Biden – there were things in the video that I had never heard before and found them interesting enough to share.  My first commenter at least acknowledged my questions but then went into slandering Joe Biden and building up Donald Trump.  Of course my go-to comment was that he promised that America would be great again.  Bringing on a civil war between Republicans and Democrats (though it’s become more Trump and Anit-Trump as there are those who have regarded themselves republican all or most of their lives and are adamant about NOT affiliating themselves with anything or anyone else who might support Trump) is NOT making America great again.  He is a dictator and a bully.  A good leader will show respect to those he/she comes in contact with – even if he/she disagrees.  Trump shows respect to absolutely no one.

I saw this thought on someone’s wall and found it profound enough to share.  

It appears that the commenter missed the point of the post

Okay, Joe Biden and Kamala Harris are for abortion, but abortion is NOT the only credential their campaign is based upon (see here) 

Each of the four candidates at either the presidential or VP debates did a lousy job at presenting accurate information.  We'll never know whether Joe Biden would have answered satisfactorily or not as he couldn't get a word in edgewise.

It’s said Trump is pro-life.  Pro-life?  Then why the hell is he not wearing a mask?  What life (other than his own) is he for?  It’s not like we have a large amount of candidates to choose from right now.  So do we go for dictatorship or abortion? Or do we focus on other issues at hand?

There has always been the political debate and pitting Republicans against Democrats (which isn’t totally true as the Republican party has not existed as long as the Democratic party) but not like this year.  Part of the 2020 cruelty.

Life is Like Snow

             Jenna required reading for her online English class has been focusing on an international high school in New York.  For each chapter Jenna is required to pull out a quote, comment on the theme of the chapter and turn in a short essay.  She has gotten in the habit of reading things out loud as it helps her better to think.  She seems to be even more focused if she can find someone else to read it out loud to her.  Often she has asked for my opinion about what I think the theme is or what I think is a good quote.  

Usually the quote is directly attached to whichever student the chapter focuses on.  However I remember one quote that stood out which was not related to the student.  It was actually a description of snow he had seen in Connecticut.  It was white and beautiful.   The quote continued with a less than attractive image of snow that had been yellowed with urine or left filthy from soot.  As we continued further in the story I realized how we could tie the quote into what might be the theme.

The last four chapters seemed to have focused on a boy named Mohammed who had come from a remote village in Africa.  We learned about his being a student at International when he was fourteen.  He had traveled to America by himself and left his family.  He had no other relatives living in the U.S.  Mohammed was by himself.

A social worker seeks a friend who is a teacher and has wanted to adopt a child – preferably a girl.  The teacher is asked to consider the possibility of adopting Mohammed in order to give him a place to live.  But it’s a complicated situation as Mohammed is NOT an orphan.  The next chapter focuses on the legal issues and there is suggestion of shuffling Mohammed around.  The chapter indicates that he is 16, possibly 17.  He’s no better off than when he was 14 – possibly worse off.

Mohammed travels with a group to visit the Empire State Building and disappears.  I see his life metaphorically as the snow.  For when he arrives in New York, the metaphorical snow is fresh and clean.  He takes in the newness of living in a big city.  He sees it as exciting.  He makes friends.  They share their dreams.  The court systems introduce the urine and soot which discolor the snow.  It is ugly.  He seems to have no control.  It isn’t a good environment.

It is later discovered that Mohammed had “moved” to Connecticut.  The environment he lives in reminds me of Charles Dickens’ Oliver.  Except instead of picking pockets, they are illegally burning CDs and selling them.  Mohammed refers to all the “Fagins” as “uncles” though they are not biologically related.  They teach him a trade.  They give him money.  No governmental red tape – though what they are doing is illegal, Mohammed feels like family.  Thus we see the parallels of snow that is beautiful and ugly at the same time.

Meanwhile he misses his biological family in Africa and would like to go home to see them.  His mom experiencing the hardships of their remote village says no.  She sees the beautiful snow that represents the United States (though the snow is only metaphorical as she has no idea what snow is nor can comprehend it visually when Mohammed tries to explain it to her as he is unable to relate anything to her that she, herself, can identify with).  If she understood snow she would tell Mohammed that the snow in Africa is very dark and ugly and it will never be clean and brilliant.

But it’s not just Mohammed’s story that we can compare to the snow.  It is that way for all of us.  2020 brought a huge assortment of challenges.  Some have seen the snow glisten in the sunlight as they have reconnected with families and have had more opportunity to read, study, quilt or whatever.  Some eventually became bored with it and focused on the yellow snow and dirty black and brown deposits while others remained focused on the brilliance of fresh snow.

Even when the snow had turned to brown slush there were moments of sparkle.  I can’t speak for those who have endured hurricane and floods but I would imagine communities pulled together as they have here during the fires.  Many people have lost their homes due to the harshness of the elements, but there are some that continue to focus on what they have and are grateful for the donations of time and possessions that others have willingly contributed.

I’m grateful for all the things I have learned during this pandemic and for the growth I’ve endured.  I have often looked at yellowed and dirty snow trying hard not to give up hope.  But I know if I turn my head in the right direction I can find the fresh snow and see the sparkles and beauty of what is happening.