continue resume is A couple of weeks ago Jo Anne was coming down the stairs from her bedroom early in the morning to turn up the heat.. Being a little groggy she failed to notice the step down to the heat register by the entryway. She said on a scale from 1 to 10 in terms of a graceful fall hers was a one. She landed on her right shoulder and because of the intense pain she thought she had broken it. She was able to drive herself with her good left arm to the urgent care facility near our home. In my helpful way I encouraged her to go for it but to be careful!
After a thorough examination it was determined she only had a severe sprain. Her arm was placed in a sling and she was given some
pain medication. I told her she was a wimp and that if I sprained my shoulder I wouldn't ask for pain medication – I would just tough it out. The doctor said it would be several weeks before she would have the full range of motion in her shoulder once again.
Well, what a pathetic couple we looked like for a few days with me totally paralyzed and in a mega power wheelchair and unable to move, and Jo Anne with her arm in a sling. Thankfully our daughter Jackie and her husband Nathan who are living with us for the time being have made it possible for us to get through this little ordeal.
Several days ago my caregiver was getting me ready for the day and I passed out. He and Jo Anne were able to revive me and we thought it was just a random episode but just as Jo Anne left the room I passed out again, my lips turned blue, and it was with great difficulty that they brought me back. The life-support system had not failed as it has a number of times in the past. This time I apparently was the one that failed. I had no premonition of what would happen, it was like a light switch being turned off. Jo Anne called the paramedics and as usual they came roaring up to our home with a fire truck, paramedic unit, and an ambulance. At least it provided some entertainment for the neighborhood which all turned out to see what was happening with Jack this time. Six big paramedics came rushing into my bedroom to lend assistance. Some of these men had been to our home several times before. My blood pressure was way low and my heartbeat was not doing very well either. We convinced them that Jo Anne would drive me to the ER and that we would be okay until then. They hesitantly agreed and about a half hour later we made the drive to the ER.
To make a long story short I spent three nights in the hospital with Jo Anne sleeping on an air mattress by my side. Do you think I love her? Past experience has taught us that hospitals are ill equipped and prepared to safely take care of someone in my condition. It was discovered I was severely dehydrated which was causing my kidneys, and heart to begin to shut down. They fixed me up thankfully and I am home once again! As my good friend John Nelson often says when these kinds of things happen to us, "If it's not one thing it's your mother!"
Are we discouraged and think our lot is hard? I don't think so! We have hope that things will get better and that we can endure this temporary inconvenience of paralysis, passing out, and a sprained shoulder without giving up or giving in or getting discouraged. We feel like the Apostle Paul when he wrote: "We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair…" [2 Corinthians 4:8]
Watching Sports Center on ESPN (my third favorite channel only superseded by BYU TV and Turner Classic Movies), one of the hosts of the show in quoting a famous coach, and I can't remember which one, said "Hope is adrenaline for the soul!" Now, Sports Center is not exactly the Scriptures or the home of great thinkers and philosophers but when I heard that statement I realized, based on my own life's experience, how true a statement it was.
How many times have we seen a team seemingly outplayed and being defeated, but because of hope that they can still turn the tide and win, miraculously come back and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat? I am convinced that it is hope that keeps us going forward in spite of the challenges and seeming tragedies that can come into all our lives.
I believe there are at least two different levels of hope that are operative in our lives. There is the hope that no matter what the problem is that there is a way out and that things can get better. And then there is a higher level of hope which the Scriptures call "A perfect brightness of hope." This perfect brightness of hope is faith and hope in the atonement of Christ and in the great plan of happiness. Fortunate is the man or woman who has both levels of faith/hope alive and well in their lives.
I believe we all have within us a God-given desire to live as long as we can regardless of how strong our faith and hope is in life after death.. I know the seven or eight times my life-support system has failed and I have almost left mortality and taken that step into eternity I have not been saying to myself "Oh boy, I get to die and go to the spirit world!" On the contrary, during those desperate circumstances I have been fighting with every molecule and atom of my being and crying out to the Lord in my mind and heart to let me have just one breath of precious life-giving air and oxygen. Knowing that help is not likely to come in time there is still an element of hope that somehow my life will be preserved.
I have had many friends who have suffered from cancer and instead of dying have opted to undergo surgery, chemotherapy and radiation which has made them sick and miserable for extended periods of time. Why haven't they just turned their faces to the wall, accepted the perhaps inevitable, assumed the fetal position and let nature take its course? It is because of hope – hope they can be cured and remain upon this earth with their loved ones as long as they can. I am sure this kind of hope is pleasing to our Heavenly Father.
We all know however, that in spite of our hope for a cure, sometimes the cure doesn't come. That's when the next level of hope sustains us– the "perfect brightness of hope" that life is eternal, that there will be a glorious resurrection, and that families are forever. This is the hope that sustains us when we realize there is no cure in spite of our hope that there would be one.
Two hours after my accident at the beach while in the ER room of the Laguna hospital two dear friends convinced the neurosurgeons to let them give me a blessing. I had just come out of a two-hour coma and my mind was very foggy. I knew one thing though, and that was that I was paralyzed and couldn't breathe on my own and that the condition might possibly be permanent. The only part of my body the neurosurgeons would permit my friends to touch was a portion of my foot. Laying their hands on that part of my body a special blessing was given. 21 years later I still remember the promise made in that first blessing following my accident. I was promised the following, "You will be able to continue to be a husband to your wife and a father to your children!" Those words sank deep into my heart and although I could not see at the time how such a promise could ever be fulfilled in my physical condition, I was filled with hope that such would be the case.
I came to learn that a cure of my physical condition was not to be and that the promise made by the Lord through my friends would have to be miraculously fulfilled in some other way. It has been! Through some desperate and depressing times those words have continued to fill me with hope and to want to never give up.
We just can't make it through this minefield of mortality without both levels of hope. I know so many wonderful people with health challenges much more severe than mine who are great examples to me of how hope truly is adrenaline for the soul. My nephew, John Michael Stuart, born with severe cerebral palsy has gone on to receive a BA degree and a Master of social work degree, has become an author and powerful motivational speaker and has blessed the lives of many. I think of Rob Hadlock who lives in our neighborhood and was rendered a quadriplegic while in high school by diving into a shallow swimming pool. He graduated from high school, BYU, Hastings law school in San Francisco, and is now a practicing attorney in Southern California. He married and he and his wife have adopted a beautiful little baby girl. I do not have words to express how proud I am of these kinds of individuals who with hope – both levels – teach us all so much.
I contrast them with the doctor from Texas who had a snow skiing accident in Colorado about the same time I had my accident, and ended up in a condition similar to mine. When he realized his condition and the prognosis for the future he made three requests. He wanted to drink a margarita, watch a Dallas Cowboys football game, and then have somebody pull the plug. All three wishes were granted.
Faith hope and charity are inextricably intertwined and form a powerful and strong lifeline that anchors us to the love and power of Christ that we all need so badly in our lives.
No one said it more beautifully than Nephi of old: "Wherefore ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ [this is faith] having a perfect brightness of hope [this is hope] and a love of God and of all men [this is charity] wherefore if you shall press forward [not looking back on the supposedly good old days] feasting upon the word of Christ and endure to the end, behold thus saith the father, ye shall have eternal life." [2 Nephi 31:20 – commentary added]
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Monday, January 31, 2011
Monday, December 20, 2010
Joy
A short while ago we attended the funeral service for our good friend, Lloyd Rasmussen. The funeral service was a wonderful celebration of the life of a very good man. Elder Legrand Richards, in speaking at the funeral service of a dear friend, said, "There is nothing that makes for a good funeral like the life of a good man." This was certainly the case with Lloyd. Not only was he our friend but he was the friend of many other people as well.
We first met Lloyd when we moved to Orange County in 1975. He was then serving as our stake president and in 1976 he called me as a counselor to Bishop Tom Murray, the first bishop of the newly formed Tustin Fourth Ward. Having served as a bishop and then as a stake president, Lloyd was called as a regional representative, in which calling he served for about eight years. Later he would be called to serve as president of the newly organized Eugene, Oregon Mission and then eventually as a counselor in the Temple presidency of the Newport Beach Temple.
While he was a Regional Representative, my assignment with the Church Educational System was to coordinate educational matters in Orange County with Lloyd. I met with him frequently, usually in his New York Life Insurance office, and always left having been taught something significant. In one meeting I revealed to him I was writing my dissertation for my doctor's degree in education at USC. He looked at me and said, "Jack, you and I potentially have the same problem." I was shocked and couldn't imagine what that potential problem we both shared could possibly be. He went on to tell me that when he went to BYU where he played varsity basketball, he had one desire and that was to get his degree as quickly as possible and then get out into the world and make as much money as he could. On the other hand, he could tell that I enjoyed education, study, gaining knowledge and was not that concerned about making money. "My money for me and your education and knowledge for you," he said "could be potential stumbling blocks. Let's agree to never let my money or your knowledge and education come between us and the Lord."
I was never smart enough to gain enough knowledge to become dangerous, but Lloyd certainly lived up to his part of the bargain. He was very successful in the insurance business and the investments he made, but none of that ever got between him and the Lord, as far as I could ever see.
During another visit he said, "Jack, how is Zion to be established in these last days?" His question caught me off guard and I'm afraid my answer was not very cogent. He finally said, "Let me tell you how Zion will come about. We must all work hard, become productive, create a surplus of money, or time, or talent, and then develop the quality of charity to the point that we willingly give our surplus to the Lord to bless the lives of others." He told me that about 30 years ago; I have never forgotten it, and to me it captures the essence of the life of Lloyd Rasmussen.
Lloyd Rasmussen was a big man in many ways -- physically, mentally, and spiritually. To me his greatest quality however, was the compassion and kind things he did for others in need, very quietly behind the scenes, and out of the spotlight.
About a month after my accident Lloyd walked into my room in the spinal cord injury unit at Rancho los Amigos Rehabilitation Hospital along with Dave Parker. While serving as a bishop, Dave had finally won a battle with cancer and Lloyd thought it would be good for both of us to meet each other. I think it was, at least for me. That visit was the first of a number of subsequent visits Lloyd had with Jo Anne and me over the years.
I always signed up for every insurance policy offered by CES and because of a 24 hour death and dismemberment policy I had, having lost the use of all four limbs, we received a generous settlement from our insurance company. Lloyd, and his good friend and partner DeMar Baron, gave us some wise counsel at that time regarding how to best use the insurance settlement. With the insurance money, along with our retirement/disability income and Social Security, it made it possible for Jo Anne to remain at home, never needing to work outside of the home or worry about finances, and enabled her to devote her time to raising the three younger children, who were still at home and taking care of me, which is a full-time job in and of itself. She has also maintained the house, the lawns, and our van. I hate to admit it, but since she took over, everything looks a lot better than when I was in charge. How can that possibly be?
We shudder to think what our post accident life may have been had Lloyd and DeMar not taken an interest in our situation and blessed us with their wise counsel, love and support.
We felt sorrow when we heard of the passing of one who had been such a blessing in our lives. We know that tears were shed by his beloved wife and family members and others as well, and appropriately so, for as the Scripture says, "Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die... [D&C 42:45] But then the Lord puts death into proper perspective by saying, "And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them..." [D&C 42:46] I believe that Lloyd died in the Lord and it was sweet unto him.
Lloyd passed away at the beginning of the Christmas season. Christmas is a special and a wonderful time of the year. I love everything about Christmas -- the food, the parties, the family gatherings, the music and lights and special decorations. For many years my favorite decoration was a three letter word made out of a kind of felt material of green, red, and white. For years it was prominently displayed on a wall in our dining room. It began to look a bit worn out, and since the children have left home, Jo Anne doesn't decorate quite as much as she used to. For the last couple of years I haven't seen my favorite decoration hanging on the wall. It might be there, but I can barely see the wall so I just don't know. I will have to ask Jo Anne. To me that three letter word captured and captures the essence of Christmas and the Christ spirit. In case you haven't figured it out already, the word is "JOY." If you were to go to the topical guide and look up all the references for the word "joy," you would find that, in almost every instance, it has something to do with Christ, his birth, and his mission and atoning sacrifice. The most famous example of course is the declaration of the angel to the shepherds that night of nights, "And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great JOY, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior , which is Christ the Lord." [Luke 2:10-11, emphasis added]
A young prophet who would, in a few short years, face a martyr's death at age 38, was taught a significant lesson about joy by the Lord, "[Joseph] fear not even unto death, for in this world your joy is not full but in me your joy is full." [D&C 101:36]
And so we miss Lloyd and many other wonderful close friends and family members that have temporarily left us, but are comforted in knowing that, as wonderful as mortality is, it is only through Christ and his infinite love and atonement that any of us will ever be able to experience a "fullness of joy."
It has been said that birth is the beginning of a terminal disease. Death is as inevitable as birth and we will all exit mortality through that door. Because of Christ and his love for each one of us; however, we need not fear death or be heart broken and filled with despair at the temporary separation from a loved one. Surely, in this life our joy is not full, but in Christ it is! I pray that the joy that is HIM will fill our hearts at this special time of the year and always.
As we follow his example and become his true disciples, loving others as he has loved us, surely the day will come that he will say to each one of us, "...Well done, thou good and faithful servant : enter thou into the JOY of thy lord." [Matthew 25:21]
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
We first met Lloyd when we moved to Orange County in 1975. He was then serving as our stake president and in 1976 he called me as a counselor to Bishop Tom Murray, the first bishop of the newly formed Tustin Fourth Ward. Having served as a bishop and then as a stake president, Lloyd was called as a regional representative, in which calling he served for about eight years. Later he would be called to serve as president of the newly organized Eugene, Oregon Mission and then eventually as a counselor in the Temple presidency of the Newport Beach Temple.
While he was a Regional Representative, my assignment with the Church Educational System was to coordinate educational matters in Orange County with Lloyd. I met with him frequently, usually in his New York Life Insurance office, and always left having been taught something significant. In one meeting I revealed to him I was writing my dissertation for my doctor's degree in education at USC. He looked at me and said, "Jack, you and I potentially have the same problem." I was shocked and couldn't imagine what that potential problem we both shared could possibly be. He went on to tell me that when he went to BYU where he played varsity basketball, he had one desire and that was to get his degree as quickly as possible and then get out into the world and make as much money as he could. On the other hand, he could tell that I enjoyed education, study, gaining knowledge and was not that concerned about making money. "My money for me and your education and knowledge for you," he said "could be potential stumbling blocks. Let's agree to never let my money or your knowledge and education come between us and the Lord."
I was never smart enough to gain enough knowledge to become dangerous, but Lloyd certainly lived up to his part of the bargain. He was very successful in the insurance business and the investments he made, but none of that ever got between him and the Lord, as far as I could ever see.
During another visit he said, "Jack, how is Zion to be established in these last days?" His question caught me off guard and I'm afraid my answer was not very cogent. He finally said, "Let me tell you how Zion will come about. We must all work hard, become productive, create a surplus of money, or time, or talent, and then develop the quality of charity to the point that we willingly give our surplus to the Lord to bless the lives of others." He told me that about 30 years ago; I have never forgotten it, and to me it captures the essence of the life of Lloyd Rasmussen.
Lloyd Rasmussen was a big man in many ways -- physically, mentally, and spiritually. To me his greatest quality however, was the compassion and kind things he did for others in need, very quietly behind the scenes, and out of the spotlight.
About a month after my accident Lloyd walked into my room in the spinal cord injury unit at Rancho los Amigos Rehabilitation Hospital along with Dave Parker. While serving as a bishop, Dave had finally won a battle with cancer and Lloyd thought it would be good for both of us to meet each other. I think it was, at least for me. That visit was the first of a number of subsequent visits Lloyd had with Jo Anne and me over the years.
I always signed up for every insurance policy offered by CES and because of a 24 hour death and dismemberment policy I had, having lost the use of all four limbs, we received a generous settlement from our insurance company. Lloyd, and his good friend and partner DeMar Baron, gave us some wise counsel at that time regarding how to best use the insurance settlement. With the insurance money, along with our retirement/disability income and Social Security, it made it possible for Jo Anne to remain at home, never needing to work outside of the home or worry about finances, and enabled her to devote her time to raising the three younger children, who were still at home and taking care of me, which is a full-time job in and of itself. She has also maintained the house, the lawns, and our van. I hate to admit it, but since she took over, everything looks a lot better than when I was in charge. How can that possibly be?
We shudder to think what our post accident life may have been had Lloyd and DeMar not taken an interest in our situation and blessed us with their wise counsel, love and support.
We felt sorrow when we heard of the passing of one who had been such a blessing in our lives. We know that tears were shed by his beloved wife and family members and others as well, and appropriately so, for as the Scripture says, "Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die... [D&C 42:45] But then the Lord puts death into proper perspective by saying, "And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them..." [D&C 42:46] I believe that Lloyd died in the Lord and it was sweet unto him.
Lloyd passed away at the beginning of the Christmas season. Christmas is a special and a wonderful time of the year. I love everything about Christmas -- the food, the parties, the family gatherings, the music and lights and special decorations. For many years my favorite decoration was a three letter word made out of a kind of felt material of green, red, and white. For years it was prominently displayed on a wall in our dining room. It began to look a bit worn out, and since the children have left home, Jo Anne doesn't decorate quite as much as she used to. For the last couple of years I haven't seen my favorite decoration hanging on the wall. It might be there, but I can barely see the wall so I just don't know. I will have to ask Jo Anne. To me that three letter word captured and captures the essence of Christmas and the Christ spirit. In case you haven't figured it out already, the word is "JOY." If you were to go to the topical guide and look up all the references for the word "joy," you would find that, in almost every instance, it has something to do with Christ, his birth, and his mission and atoning sacrifice. The most famous example of course is the declaration of the angel to the shepherds that night of nights, "And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great JOY, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior , which is Christ the Lord." [Luke 2:10-11, emphasis added]
A young prophet who would, in a few short years, face a martyr's death at age 38, was taught a significant lesson about joy by the Lord, "[Joseph] fear not even unto death, for in this world your joy is not full but in me your joy is full." [D&C 101:36]
And so we miss Lloyd and many other wonderful close friends and family members that have temporarily left us, but are comforted in knowing that, as wonderful as mortality is, it is only through Christ and his infinite love and atonement that any of us will ever be able to experience a "fullness of joy."
It has been said that birth is the beginning of a terminal disease. Death is as inevitable as birth and we will all exit mortality through that door. Because of Christ and his love for each one of us; however, we need not fear death or be heart broken and filled with despair at the temporary separation from a loved one. Surely, in this life our joy is not full, but in Christ it is! I pray that the joy that is HIM will fill our hearts at this special time of the year and always.
As we follow his example and become his true disciples, loving others as he has loved us, surely the day will come that he will say to each one of us, "...Well done, thou good and faithful servant : enter thou into the JOY of thy lord." [Matthew 25:21]
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
All people make me happy
As Joanne and I, almost daily, travel about Orange County to return things to our favorite stores, and to eat some tacos or a bean burrito with extra onions at our favorite gourmet restaurant, "Taco Bell," we listen to books on CD that we obtain from our local public library.
We just finished listening to one that I feel compelled to tell you about. Let me preface it with a statement shared with me by a good friend, Randy Smith that has a ring of truth to it. "All people bring happiness into our lives -- some by coming and others by going." [Anonymous] During our lifetimes hopefully the people that bring us happiness by coming into our lives will far outweigh those who bring us happiness by going. Fortunately that has been the case during my lifetime.
The book I am referring to has introduced Joanne and I to a person that has brought us happiness and enriched our lives. We are only sorry we did not have him come into our lives sooner. His name is William Wilberforce and the book is entitled, AMAZING GRACE: William Wilberforce and the Heroic Campaign to End Slavery by Eric Metaxas.
Through our own ignorance over the years somehow we had not come to know William Wilberforce. The movie, "Amazing Grace," which we saw several years ago, was taken from this book, but does not do justice in portraying the kind of man William Wilberforce was. The book does so in depth in a beautiful way. We were enthralled, edified, and also somewhat embarrassed we didn't know anything about him. Maybe some of you are like Joanne and I. The following was taken from the book jacket. "Amazing Grace tells the story of the remarkable life of the British abolitionist William Wilberforce (1759-1833). This accessible biography chronicles Wilberforce’s extraordinary role as a human rights activist, cultural reformer, and member of Parliament. At the center of this heroic life was a passionate twenty-year fight to abolish the British slave trade, a battle Wilberforce won in 1807, as well as efforts to abolish slavery itself in the British colonies, a victory achieved just three days before his death in 1833. Metaxas discovers in this unsung hero a man of whom it can truly be said: he changed the world. Before Wilberforce, few thought slavery was wrong. After Wilberforce, most societies in the world came to see it as a great moral wrong... This account of Wilberforce’s life will help many become acquainted with an exceptional man who was a hero to Abraham Lincoln and an inspiration to the anti-slavery movement in America."
We were very touched by this multifaceted, "born-again, evangelical" Christian who after a young life of debauchery and self-centeredness found Christ and devoted his considerable talents and fortune, not only in seeing slavery abolished, but also helping to raise the quality of life of the poor and downtrodden in England. After reading this book, I think I would have liked to have had William Wilberforce as a friend. I could say much more about William Wilberforce but would rather leave it up to you to let him "come" into your life through reading this wonderful book.
The relationship we have with those who come into our lives is the source of much of our happiness both in mortality and in eternity. I learned how true this is while lying in a hospital bed with a neurosurgeon looking down at me and giving me his prognosis about my life from that time forward. I knew in that moment that the only thing that mattered at all in my life up to that moment were the relationships I had with people who had "come into my life" and brought me much happiness because of it.
I think the reason that death is so anguishing and frightening to many is because they may feel that a priceless relationship is being severed for good. That thought is almost more than any of us can bear. Without the "Great Plan of Happiness", life truly would be senseless and death a black abyss waiting to eventually swallow every human being into a state of nothingness.
There are some people that come into our lives that we never want to go away. I feel that way about my wife and children and grandchildren, as you do about yours. My father passed away while undergoing open-heart surgery at the age of 62. I walked beside the gurney talking to him as he was wheeled down the corridor of the St. Mark's Hospital in Salt Lake City to the operating room. Little did I know I would never see him again or talk to him again in this life. He passed away in April, 1970. I still miss him and wished he hadn't gone away. He was the first person that was really close to me that died. I thought my heart would break when I realized he was gone for good. However, within days of his passing I had confirmed within my soul by the Spirit that life is eternal and that one day I would be reunited with my dad once again. Hopefully we all know this about ourselves and our loved ones; otherwise life would truly be empty, scary, and meaningless.
One of my favorite scenes from the Book of Mormon is when the Savior is leaving those to whom he had appeared and taught as a resurrected being. He spent many hours with them. They had touched the nail prints in his hands and feet and the wound in his side and they knew it was He of "whom the prophets had testified should come into the world," even the Christ, the Messiah. As he was about to leave them, Mormon recorded the following, which I think we can all identify with: "And it came to pass that when Jesus had thus spoken, he cast his eyes round about again on the multitude, and beheld they were in tears, and did look steadfastly upon him as if they would ask him to tarry a little longer with them." [3 Nephi 17:5, emphasis added]. Had we been there that day I'm sure we too would have been in tears with the thought of him leaving us. I never want to forget what happened next. Sensing how he was loved by these faithful and trusting souls and how they never wanted him to leave them, he "... said unto them: Behold, my bowels are filled with compassion towards you." [3 Nephi 17:6] He then had them bring forth their lame, paralyzed, blind, leprous, deaf, or withered family members and friends. "... and he did heal them every one as they were brought forth unto him... And... [He] wept, and the multitude bare record of it, and he took their little children, one by one, and when he had done this he wept again..." [3 Nephi 17:21-22, emphasis added]
Of all the friends we have or of all the people that have come into our lives, none has brought us the happiness Christ has. How grateful we are for Mormon's account of the Savior's love for all of us and of his great tenderness and compassion.
Though temporarily separated from him, we have the same promise he gave to his beloved apostles that Thursday night before going from them. Sensing their sorrow at his parting, much as the Nephites had, he said to them (and to us), "I will not leave you comfortless I will come to you." [John 14:18] There is an important footnote to the word "comfortless." Apparently a better translation from the original Greek text would have been "orphans." Though gone for a while he would never leave us "orphans." He has not ,nor would he ever, abandon us. Until he comes to us again, the Holy Ghost has been given as a supernal gift to comfort us and constantly remind us of his great and eternal love for each one of us.
Of all the people we invite to come into our lives, lets make sure that Christ is the first.
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
www.observationsbyjack.blogspot.com
We just finished listening to one that I feel compelled to tell you about. Let me preface it with a statement shared with me by a good friend, Randy Smith that has a ring of truth to it. "All people bring happiness into our lives -- some by coming and others by going." [Anonymous] During our lifetimes hopefully the people that bring us happiness by coming into our lives will far outweigh those who bring us happiness by going. Fortunately that has been the case during my lifetime.
The book I am referring to has introduced Joanne and I to a person that has brought us happiness and enriched our lives. We are only sorry we did not have him come into our lives sooner. His name is William Wilberforce and the book is entitled, AMAZING GRACE: William Wilberforce and the Heroic Campaign to End Slavery by Eric Metaxas.
Through our own ignorance over the years somehow we had not come to know William Wilberforce. The movie, "Amazing Grace," which we saw several years ago, was taken from this book, but does not do justice in portraying the kind of man William Wilberforce was. The book does so in depth in a beautiful way. We were enthralled, edified, and also somewhat embarrassed we didn't know anything about him. Maybe some of you are like Joanne and I. The following was taken from the book jacket. "Amazing Grace tells the story of the remarkable life of the British abolitionist William Wilberforce (1759-1833). This accessible biography chronicles Wilberforce’s extraordinary role as a human rights activist, cultural reformer, and member of Parliament. At the center of this heroic life was a passionate twenty-year fight to abolish the British slave trade, a battle Wilberforce won in 1807, as well as efforts to abolish slavery itself in the British colonies, a victory achieved just three days before his death in 1833. Metaxas discovers in this unsung hero a man of whom it can truly be said: he changed the world. Before Wilberforce, few thought slavery was wrong. After Wilberforce, most societies in the world came to see it as a great moral wrong... This account of Wilberforce’s life will help many become acquainted with an exceptional man who was a hero to Abraham Lincoln and an inspiration to the anti-slavery movement in America."
We were very touched by this multifaceted, "born-again, evangelical" Christian who after a young life of debauchery and self-centeredness found Christ and devoted his considerable talents and fortune, not only in seeing slavery abolished, but also helping to raise the quality of life of the poor and downtrodden in England. After reading this book, I think I would have liked to have had William Wilberforce as a friend. I could say much more about William Wilberforce but would rather leave it up to you to let him "come" into your life through reading this wonderful book.
The relationship we have with those who come into our lives is the source of much of our happiness both in mortality and in eternity. I learned how true this is while lying in a hospital bed with a neurosurgeon looking down at me and giving me his prognosis about my life from that time forward. I knew in that moment that the only thing that mattered at all in my life up to that moment were the relationships I had with people who had "come into my life" and brought me much happiness because of it.
I think the reason that death is so anguishing and frightening to many is because they may feel that a priceless relationship is being severed for good. That thought is almost more than any of us can bear. Without the "Great Plan of Happiness", life truly would be senseless and death a black abyss waiting to eventually swallow every human being into a state of nothingness.
There are some people that come into our lives that we never want to go away. I feel that way about my wife and children and grandchildren, as you do about yours. My father passed away while undergoing open-heart surgery at the age of 62. I walked beside the gurney talking to him as he was wheeled down the corridor of the St. Mark's Hospital in Salt Lake City to the operating room. Little did I know I would never see him again or talk to him again in this life. He passed away in April, 1970. I still miss him and wished he hadn't gone away. He was the first person that was really close to me that died. I thought my heart would break when I realized he was gone for good. However, within days of his passing I had confirmed within my soul by the Spirit that life is eternal and that one day I would be reunited with my dad once again. Hopefully we all know this about ourselves and our loved ones; otherwise life would truly be empty, scary, and meaningless.
One of my favorite scenes from the Book of Mormon is when the Savior is leaving those to whom he had appeared and taught as a resurrected being. He spent many hours with them. They had touched the nail prints in his hands and feet and the wound in his side and they knew it was He of "whom the prophets had testified should come into the world," even the Christ, the Messiah. As he was about to leave them, Mormon recorded the following, which I think we can all identify with: "And it came to pass that when Jesus had thus spoken, he cast his eyes round about again on the multitude, and beheld they were in tears, and did look steadfastly upon him as if they would ask him to tarry a little longer with them." [3 Nephi 17:5, emphasis added]. Had we been there that day I'm sure we too would have been in tears with the thought of him leaving us. I never want to forget what happened next. Sensing how he was loved by these faithful and trusting souls and how they never wanted him to leave them, he "... said unto them: Behold, my bowels are filled with compassion towards you." [3 Nephi 17:6] He then had them bring forth their lame, paralyzed, blind, leprous, deaf, or withered family members and friends. "... and he did heal them every one as they were brought forth unto him... And... [He] wept, and the multitude bare record of it, and he took their little children, one by one, and when he had done this he wept again..." [3 Nephi 17:21-22, emphasis added]
Of all the friends we have or of all the people that have come into our lives, none has brought us the happiness Christ has. How grateful we are for Mormon's account of the Savior's love for all of us and of his great tenderness and compassion.
Though temporarily separated from him, we have the same promise he gave to his beloved apostles that Thursday night before going from them. Sensing their sorrow at his parting, much as the Nephites had, he said to them (and to us), "I will not leave you comfortless I will come to you." [John 14:18] There is an important footnote to the word "comfortless." Apparently a better translation from the original Greek text would have been "orphans." Though gone for a while he would never leave us "orphans." He has not ,nor would he ever, abandon us. Until he comes to us again, the Holy Ghost has been given as a supernal gift to comfort us and constantly remind us of his great and eternal love for each one of us.
Of all the people we invite to come into our lives, lets make sure that Christ is the first.
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
www.observationsbyjack.blogspot.com
Friday, November 19, 2010
Hands
Even in Southern California it is possible to discern that in November, summer is finally over. When fall turns into winter I start having myself covered at night with my favorite quilt. It is covered with the tiny red and blue handprints of little primary children who under the direction of our good friend, Sue Anthony who was primary president at the time, dipped their little hands in blue or red paint and then pressed them on to the quilt. My "Hands-On" quilt is 21 years old and those little hands are now big and most of their owners have served missions and are married now with children of their own.
It is my favorite quilt because I like to imagine those little hands keeping me warm and comfortable through the long cold nights of winter. Those little hands represent to me the love of Christ manifest through these pure, precious, and innocent children.
Since my injury I am fascinated by hands. I am convinced that only God could create something so marvelous. Not having the use of my hands anymore I am just in awe of what hands can do. I see the masterful artwork done by my good friend Ron Wilson, and our daughter's mother-in-law, Rhonda Reilly. What a gift to take a blank computer screen or canvas and create something beautiful, inspiring and enduring. I listen to my granddaughter, Allora Stratford, play the piano and watch her fingers literally fly over the keys. Having played the piano for many years before my accident I know what a gift she has been given to be able to translate from her mind to her hands given to her by God, the edifying music she is able to interpret and perform. I have had a trained surgeon literally save my life because of her trained and skillful hands.
Each day as I sit in my office and look at the beautiful workmanship I am reminded of the gifted hands of Gary Anderson and Paul Colby to build something beautiful out of wood -- a skill I have never possessed.
As impressive as these gifted and trained hands are however, hands can also be used to bless and comfort in many other ways as the little hands of our former primary children do for me through my "Hands-On" quilt.
President Dieter F. Uchdorft in the April, 2010 general conference related the following story: "... during the bombing of a city in World War II, a large statue of Jesus Christ was severely damaged. When the townspeople found the statue among the rubble, they mourned because it had been a beloved symbol of their faith and of God’s presence in their lives.
Experts were able to repair most of the statue, but its hands had been damaged so severely that they could not be restored. Some suggested that they hire a sculptor to make new hands, but others wanted to leave it as it was—a permanent reminder of the tragedy of war. Ultimately, the statue remained without hands. However, the people of the city added on the base of the statue of Jesus Christ a sign with these words: “You are my hands.”
Not having been able to do one single physical thing for myself for over 20 years now, the "hands of Christ" in the form of my family and friends have literally kept me alive. To me, their hands truly are "The hands of Christ."
All of us can be and should be "the hands of Christ" to those about us. "... we are surrounded by those in need of our attention, our encouragement, our support be they family members, friends, acquaintances, or strangers. We are the Lord’s hands here upon the earth, with the mandate to serve and to lift His children. He is dependent upon each one of us." [Thomas S. Monson, Ensign, November, 2009]
In its humanitarian outreach to the world, disaster victims have witnessed young and old dressed in yellow T-shirts or vests with the words "Mormon Helping Hands," printed on them. These "hands of Christ" have blessed countless disaster victims and will continue to do so as the years go by.
If our hands are truly to be the hands of Christ however, we must make sure that not only are they clean but that our hearts are pure as well.
The psalmist wrote: "Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in his holy place? “He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully” (Psalm 24:3–4).
Elder Bednar, in commenting on these verses said: "... it is possible for us to have clean hands but not have a pure heart ... Let me suggest that hands are made clean through the process of putting off the natural man and by overcoming sin and the evil influences in our lives through the Savior’s Atonement. Hearts are purified as we receive His strengthening power to do good and become better..." [Ensign, November, 2007]
And so the challenge we all have in becoming the hands of Christ is through our faith and trust in the power of the atonement to truly have the same clean hands and pure heart He has. It is a daunting task but as Robert Browning wrote, "If a man's reach does not exceed his grasp, then what is a heaven for?"
"Hands are one of the symbolically expressive parts of the body. In Hebrew, yad, the most common word for “hand,” is also used metaphorically to mean power, strength, might (see William Wilson, Old Testament Word Studies [1978], 205). Thus, hands signify power and strength." [W. Craig Zwick Ensign, November, 2003]
The prophet Mormon said "Know ye not that ye are in the hands of God? Know ye not that he hath all power?” (Mormon 5:23).
"To be in the hands of God would suggest that we are not only under His watchful care but also that we are guarded and protected by His wondrous power.
Throughout the scriptures, reference is made to the hand of the Lord. His divine assistance is evidenced over and over again. His powerful hands created worlds, and yet they were gentle enough to bless the little children.
Consider John’s words describing the resurrected and glorified Savior: “And when I saw him, … he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not; … I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore” (Rev. 1:17–18). When He lays His hand upon us, we, like John, can be alive in Him." [Craig W. Zwick, Ensign, November 2003]
Speaking of hands and to end on a lighter note -- hopefully not a light minded note -- the other evening Joanne was feeding me a bacon, lettuce, tomato, and avocado sandwich on grilled sourdough bread -- my favorite. We also happened to be watching a 1942 black-and-white murder mystery on TCM at the same time. We were engrossed in the movie and all of a sudden I heard a scream, Joanne slugged me in the arm and accused me of biting her finger. I have to admit that the bacon did taste a little like finger right about then. Even I however, am not dumb enough to bite the "hand" that feeds me -- or am I?
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
It is my favorite quilt because I like to imagine those little hands keeping me warm and comfortable through the long cold nights of winter. Those little hands represent to me the love of Christ manifest through these pure, precious, and innocent children.
Since my injury I am fascinated by hands. I am convinced that only God could create something so marvelous. Not having the use of my hands anymore I am just in awe of what hands can do. I see the masterful artwork done by my good friend Ron Wilson, and our daughter's mother-in-law, Rhonda Reilly. What a gift to take a blank computer screen or canvas and create something beautiful, inspiring and enduring. I listen to my granddaughter, Allora Stratford, play the piano and watch her fingers literally fly over the keys. Having played the piano for many years before my accident I know what a gift she has been given to be able to translate from her mind to her hands given to her by God, the edifying music she is able to interpret and perform. I have had a trained surgeon literally save my life because of her trained and skillful hands.
Each day as I sit in my office and look at the beautiful workmanship I am reminded of the gifted hands of Gary Anderson and Paul Colby to build something beautiful out of wood -- a skill I have never possessed.
As impressive as these gifted and trained hands are however, hands can also be used to bless and comfort in many other ways as the little hands of our former primary children do for me through my "Hands-On" quilt.
President Dieter F. Uchdorft in the April, 2010 general conference related the following story: "... during the bombing of a city in World War II, a large statue of Jesus Christ was severely damaged. When the townspeople found the statue among the rubble, they mourned because it had been a beloved symbol of their faith and of God’s presence in their lives.
Experts were able to repair most of the statue, but its hands had been damaged so severely that they could not be restored. Some suggested that they hire a sculptor to make new hands, but others wanted to leave it as it was—a permanent reminder of the tragedy of war. Ultimately, the statue remained without hands. However, the people of the city added on the base of the statue of Jesus Christ a sign with these words: “You are my hands.”
Not having been able to do one single physical thing for myself for over 20 years now, the "hands of Christ" in the form of my family and friends have literally kept me alive. To me, their hands truly are "The hands of Christ."
All of us can be and should be "the hands of Christ" to those about us. "... we are surrounded by those in need of our attention, our encouragement, our support be they family members, friends, acquaintances, or strangers. We are the Lord’s hands here upon the earth, with the mandate to serve and to lift His children. He is dependent upon each one of us." [Thomas S. Monson, Ensign, November, 2009]
In its humanitarian outreach to the world, disaster victims have witnessed young and old dressed in yellow T-shirts or vests with the words "Mormon Helping Hands," printed on them. These "hands of Christ" have blessed countless disaster victims and will continue to do so as the years go by.
If our hands are truly to be the hands of Christ however, we must make sure that not only are they clean but that our hearts are pure as well.
The psalmist wrote: "Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in his holy place? “He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully” (Psalm 24:3–4).
Elder Bednar, in commenting on these verses said: "... it is possible for us to have clean hands but not have a pure heart ... Let me suggest that hands are made clean through the process of putting off the natural man and by overcoming sin and the evil influences in our lives through the Savior’s Atonement. Hearts are purified as we receive His strengthening power to do good and become better..." [Ensign, November, 2007]
And so the challenge we all have in becoming the hands of Christ is through our faith and trust in the power of the atonement to truly have the same clean hands and pure heart He has. It is a daunting task but as Robert Browning wrote, "If a man's reach does not exceed his grasp, then what is a heaven for?"
"Hands are one of the symbolically expressive parts of the body. In Hebrew, yad, the most common word for “hand,” is also used metaphorically to mean power, strength, might (see William Wilson, Old Testament Word Studies [1978], 205). Thus, hands signify power and strength." [W. Craig Zwick Ensign, November, 2003]
The prophet Mormon said "Know ye not that ye are in the hands of God? Know ye not that he hath all power?” (Mormon 5:23).
"To be in the hands of God would suggest that we are not only under His watchful care but also that we are guarded and protected by His wondrous power.
Throughout the scriptures, reference is made to the hand of the Lord. His divine assistance is evidenced over and over again. His powerful hands created worlds, and yet they were gentle enough to bless the little children.
Consider John’s words describing the resurrected and glorified Savior: “And when I saw him, … he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not; … I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore” (Rev. 1:17–18). When He lays His hand upon us, we, like John, can be alive in Him." [Craig W. Zwick, Ensign, November 2003]
Speaking of hands and to end on a lighter note -- hopefully not a light minded note -- the other evening Joanne was feeding me a bacon, lettuce, tomato, and avocado sandwich on grilled sourdough bread -- my favorite. We also happened to be watching a 1942 black-and-white murder mystery on TCM at the same time. We were engrossed in the movie and all of a sudden I heard a scream, Joanne slugged me in the arm and accused me of biting her finger. I have to admit that the bacon did taste a little like finger right about then. Even I however, am not dumb enough to bite the "hand" that feeds me -- or am I?
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Detours
During the last 10 years as we have taken trips to Utah, we have been
confronted with road construction somewhere along the way. To me a new
synonym for "eternal" is the Utah freeway and highway system which seems
to be "eternally" under construction. I attribute it to maybe two or
three things: (1) poorly conceived and overly optimistic plans, (2)
feeble minded and poorly run construction companies (3) or -- and this
is the one I want to believe -- the population is growing so rapidly
there is no way to keep the infrastructure of freeways and highways on
pace with the burgeoning population.
I'm not blaming the state of Utah or the wonderful people of Utah for this challenging problem, but when I begin to see unending numbers of orange barrels and the freeway suddenly reduced to one lane I must admit I get a tad anxious, and for good reason.
With orange barrels aglow and yellow hazard lights blinking every few seconds, one night outside of St. George, Joanne ran our van into the back of a four-door sedan that was stopped dead still on the on ramp to the freeway. Two young men were confused by all the lights and simply stopped their car without entering the freeway. When I heard and felt the initial gut wrenching crunch I thought it undoubtedly was Joanne's fault, given her propensity for close calls while driving; however, before I could make any "insightful observations" regarding her driving skills, the two young men, running as fast as they could back to our van, confessed that the crash was their fault. I praised Joanne for her superior hand and eye coordination that saved us from severe harm. She seemed to appreciate the compliment and our already happy marriage was strengthened and made even happier. What good timing!
During our most recent trip, we were confronted with a plethora of detour signs, more than I can ever remember on any of our previous trips to Utah. My knee-jerk reaction to a detour sign is, "Oh no, think of the time we are going to waste!" We had to take so many detours however, that I began to change my attitude from one of frustration and aggravation to one of anticipation. It was either change my attitude or just be plain miserable.
The dictionary definition for detour is: "A roundabout way or course, especially a road used temporarily instead of a main route." or "A deviation from a direct course of action." (The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language)
It is in my nature, and I think many people are like me, that we don't like to take detours -- a roundabout way -- a deviation from a direct course of action. But as I learned on my last trip to Utah, as I began to anticipate the detours and the new country and things I would see and experience because of them, the trip really became a far richer experience than it would have been without the detours.
As I have pondered the principle of "detours" on freeways, highways, and in our lives, I have concluded that our lives are filled with detours -- unanticipated deviations from the I-15 freeways of life, where there is no traffic, road construction, or potholes and we arrive on time at our pre-determined and desired destination.
Life just isn't that way for most of us, is it? Many of our lives are spent on detours, which I believe are orchestrated by a loving and kind Heavenly Father. He wants us to see and experience more of life than we could possibly ever see or experience just sailing down I-15 with our air conditioning keeping us comfortable and our CDs soothing our otherwise jangled nerves.
However, we usually don't want to take most of the detours that come our way. I was motoring down the I-15 of my life doing just fine and enjoying the ride when the Lord threw a detour in my path. Initially, I found no joy in my detour and there were days I was actually looking for other highway signs that would get me off this detour and out of my misery like "End of Road" or "Dead End."
I wouldn't wish my detour on anyone else, but after more than 20 years of taking this unanticipated and roundabout road to the "Promised Land," I wouldn't now trade the experience of this "detour" for anything. Years ago I couldn't have made that statement, but I can truthfully do so now. What I have learned and experienced being paralyzed and on life support for so many years, I could have never learned or experienced on the interstate freeway of life. I am grateful for detours and the special one that has come my way.
I believe "detours" are part of the Lord's plan for all of his children. It takes faith to strike out on an unfamiliar path, but how rich are the rewards in doing so and sticking with the detour as long as is necessary.
I am sure that Abraham was not thrilled with the idea of taking Isaac on a detour to Mount Mariah. The Lord however, knew that this detour was necessary for Abraham, his spiritual development, and the subsequent great mission he was to perform. The Children of Israel had to take a forty-year detour to learn some lessons about life before they could inherit their Promised Land. Lehi and his family spent eight years in the Arabian Desert on a prolonged detour in order to learn some important things about faith, obedience, and trust in God. The Mormon pioneers had many detours and at times even faced circumstances that looked like "Dead Ends." I suppose the great challenge of life is to find "joy in the journey" regardless of the "detours" that come our way.
Many years ago I took a graduate class at USC designed to help us teach college students more effectively. Our teacher loved Robert Frost and had us read a beautiful collection of some of his poetry in a book entitled, "A Swinger of Birches." As we read the book, our gifted professor helped us apply much of what Robert Frost wrote to the teaching and learning process.
One of the poems we read then was "The Road Not Taken." I have included it below because I think it captures the essence of what I've been trying to say in this observation.
The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost
I too have been blessed to take the road less traveled by, "and that has made all the difference."
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
I'm not blaming the state of Utah or the wonderful people of Utah for this challenging problem, but when I begin to see unending numbers of orange barrels and the freeway suddenly reduced to one lane I must admit I get a tad anxious, and for good reason.
With orange barrels aglow and yellow hazard lights blinking every few seconds, one night outside of St. George, Joanne ran our van into the back of a four-door sedan that was stopped dead still on the on ramp to the freeway. Two young men were confused by all the lights and simply stopped their car without entering the freeway. When I heard and felt the initial gut wrenching crunch I thought it undoubtedly was Joanne's fault, given her propensity for close calls while driving; however, before I could make any "insightful observations" regarding her driving skills, the two young men, running as fast as they could back to our van, confessed that the crash was their fault. I praised Joanne for her superior hand and eye coordination that saved us from severe harm. She seemed to appreciate the compliment and our already happy marriage was strengthened and made even happier. What good timing!
During our most recent trip, we were confronted with a plethora of detour signs, more than I can ever remember on any of our previous trips to Utah. My knee-jerk reaction to a detour sign is, "Oh no, think of the time we are going to waste!" We had to take so many detours however, that I began to change my attitude from one of frustration and aggravation to one of anticipation. It was either change my attitude or just be plain miserable.
The dictionary definition for detour is: "A roundabout way or course, especially a road used temporarily instead of a main route." or "A deviation from a direct course of action." (The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language)
It is in my nature, and I think many people are like me, that we don't like to take detours -- a roundabout way -- a deviation from a direct course of action. But as I learned on my last trip to Utah, as I began to anticipate the detours and the new country and things I would see and experience because of them, the trip really became a far richer experience than it would have been without the detours.
As I have pondered the principle of "detours" on freeways, highways, and in our lives, I have concluded that our lives are filled with detours -- unanticipated deviations from the I-15 freeways of life, where there is no traffic, road construction, or potholes and we arrive on time at our pre-determined and desired destination.
Life just isn't that way for most of us, is it? Many of our lives are spent on detours, which I believe are orchestrated by a loving and kind Heavenly Father. He wants us to see and experience more of life than we could possibly ever see or experience just sailing down I-15 with our air conditioning keeping us comfortable and our CDs soothing our otherwise jangled nerves.
However, we usually don't want to take most of the detours that come our way. I was motoring down the I-15 of my life doing just fine and enjoying the ride when the Lord threw a detour in my path. Initially, I found no joy in my detour and there were days I was actually looking for other highway signs that would get me off this detour and out of my misery like "End of Road" or "Dead End."
I wouldn't wish my detour on anyone else, but after more than 20 years of taking this unanticipated and roundabout road to the "Promised Land," I wouldn't now trade the experience of this "detour" for anything. Years ago I couldn't have made that statement, but I can truthfully do so now. What I have learned and experienced being paralyzed and on life support for so many years, I could have never learned or experienced on the interstate freeway of life. I am grateful for detours and the special one that has come my way.
I believe "detours" are part of the Lord's plan for all of his children. It takes faith to strike out on an unfamiliar path, but how rich are the rewards in doing so and sticking with the detour as long as is necessary.
I am sure that Abraham was not thrilled with the idea of taking Isaac on a detour to Mount Mariah. The Lord however, knew that this detour was necessary for Abraham, his spiritual development, and the subsequent great mission he was to perform. The Children of Israel had to take a forty-year detour to learn some lessons about life before they could inherit their Promised Land. Lehi and his family spent eight years in the Arabian Desert on a prolonged detour in order to learn some important things about faith, obedience, and trust in God. The Mormon pioneers had many detours and at times even faced circumstances that looked like "Dead Ends." I suppose the great challenge of life is to find "joy in the journey" regardless of the "detours" that come our way.
Many years ago I took a graduate class at USC designed to help us teach college students more effectively. Our teacher loved Robert Frost and had us read a beautiful collection of some of his poetry in a book entitled, "A Swinger of Birches." As we read the book, our gifted professor helped us apply much of what Robert Frost wrote to the teaching and learning process.
One of the poems we read then was "The Road Not Taken." I have included it below because I think it captures the essence of what I've been trying to say in this observation.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost
I too have been blessed to take the road less traveled by, "and that has made all the difference."
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Friday, October 15, 2010
What Happened to Your Face?
Most of you have heard me tell the incident when I was surrounded by a group of five-year-olds on the playground of an elementary school. After they had fired numerous questions at me, a little boy got up really close and looking into my eyes said, "Hey Mr., what happened to your face?" I looked at him and said, "My face -- give me a break." I thought it was the only part of my body that was halfway normal and working! I tried to run over the little kid!
I have been thinking recently that what the five-year-old said could be taken two different ways. I took it as an insult (a truly funny insult coming from a five-year-old, which of course did not offend me), but he could have meant it as a complement. Maybe he thought my face looked pretty fine compared to the rest of me. I don't really believe that, but it is a nice thought. What I do believe is that after many years of living, what we truly are becomes etched on our countenances.
Last week I had the unexpected pleasure of attending the second missionary reunion for Central American missionaries who served in Central America from the late 50s into the 60s. We had never thought to travel to Utah again, but our book publisher had arranged a promotional tour to publicize my new book, "It's Good to Be Alive-observations from a wheelchair," throughout the Salt Lake City/Provo area. The highlight of the trip for me, besides being able to visit with wonderful family and old friends, was being able to attend the missionary reunion. Most of us have been home from our missions for about 50 years. I have never been around so many old guys with no hair or white hair. I had the special privilege and joy of visiting with many former companions and many others I knew in the mission field. In my condition, I surely did feel like the "voice from the dust." Though not able to see very well, as I peered into the faces of those former young men now grown old, I felt radiating from their faces a light which testified that their love of the gospel and their service to others did not end when they were 22 years old. The day Elder Uchtdorf was sustained as an Apostle he told the Saints:
"I have seen the face of Christ in your faces, in your deeds, and in your exemplary lives." [Elder Dieter F Uchtdorf, Ensign, November, 2004]
I echo that statement made by President Uchtdorf. I do believe that those who serve others and live exemplary lives truly have the face of Christ in their countenances.
Alma asked the people of Zarahemla the searching question: "... Have ye received his image in your countenances?" [Alma 5:14] Certainly this is an important question we could all ask ourselves frequently.
In my lifetime, I have known many who I believe have received the image of Christ in their countenances. Sitting in the celestial room during the dedication of the Newport Beach, California Temple a number of years ago, not more than 5 feet from President Hinckley and President Faust, I could not help but staring at them throughout the session. I could tell that through their many years of service to others, as well as their exemplary lives, accompanied by the sanctifying influence of the Spirit they had received Christ's image in their countenances.
Of literally hundreds of experiences I have had in seeing the face of Christ in the faces of others, and most recently during our trip to Utah to visit family and friends and then the missionary reunion, there are two that stand out in my mind.
Allen Rosza, former president of the Los Angeles Temple, and I had become good friends over the years. I had taught his football playing triplet sons in Institute in Santa Ana, California and had watched the boys play a few games. After my injury, President Rosza would come to the rehabilitation Hospital several times each week to encourage me to never give up.
After spending the day with me, one weekday evening Jo Anne left the hospital to drive from Downey to our home in Tustin. The distance is only maybe 40 miles but on a Southern California Freeway it can be harrowing, and especially dangerous at night for a single woman. The six months I was at the hospital she made this drive at least five days each week. Jo Anne was depressed and wondering how things were going to ever turn out. She just could not see the light at the end of the tunnel that particular evening . She even shed a few tears driving down the freeway and when she pulled off the off ramp near our home noticed that she was nearly out of gas. She pulled into a gas station near the off ramp and got out of the van to begin pumping gas. She had barely opened the door when Allen and Donna Rozsa pulled up beside her. Allen jumped out of his car and could see Jo Anne's distress and the evidence of tears. He filled the van with gas, not letting her pay for it, and then he and Donna took her to get something to eat. In only a few minutes, they lifted Jo Anne's spirits in a remarkable way. He told Jo Anne that he never used that gas station but felt prompted to get off the freeway at that particular exit, which he did. That evening Jo Anne saw the face of Christ in the faces of Allen and Donna Rozsa, as I had previously seen in the face of Allen so many times in the hospital.
Several months after coming home from the hospital, we were having a bad day. It was a Saturday and we had planned on going to hear the Know Your Religion speaker at our Stake Center that evening, but were depressed and despondent and just didn't feel like going out. Jo Anne was fixing us something to eat when we heard the doorbell ring. She went to the door and standing there was Ken Anderson, an administrator for continuing education for BYU. We had known him when he lived here in Southern California and his brother and his family had lived in our Ward when I served as bishop. If you know Ken you know that he has the most wonderful smile and spirit emanating from him that you will probably ever see or experience in any other individual. The minute he walked into our home the atmosphere changed from one of depression and darkness to one of joy and light. He was supposed to be at the Know Your Religion program but felt impressed to come to our home instead. We visited for some time and then he left. When he had gone Jo Anne said that we had just seen the face of Christ in our home. She was right!
Although I have only chosen to share these few experiences, I could multiply them by the hundreds, and am so grateful to be able to say to my family and many friends, as Elder Uchtdorf said: "I have seen the face of Christ in your faces, in your deeds, and in your exemplary lives."
And so I do believe that from time to time it is not so bad to look into the mirror and say, "Hey Mr., what is happening to your face?"
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
I have been thinking recently that what the five-year-old said could be taken two different ways. I took it as an insult (a truly funny insult coming from a five-year-old, which of course did not offend me), but he could have meant it as a complement. Maybe he thought my face looked pretty fine compared to the rest of me. I don't really believe that, but it is a nice thought. What I do believe is that after many years of living, what we truly are becomes etched on our countenances.
Last week I had the unexpected pleasure of attending the second missionary reunion for Central American missionaries who served in Central America from the late 50s into the 60s. We had never thought to travel to Utah again, but our book publisher had arranged a promotional tour to publicize my new book, "It's Good to Be Alive-observations from a wheelchair," throughout the Salt Lake City/Provo area. The highlight of the trip for me, besides being able to visit with wonderful family and old friends, was being able to attend the missionary reunion. Most of us have been home from our missions for about 50 years. I have never been around so many old guys with no hair or white hair. I had the special privilege and joy of visiting with many former companions and many others I knew in the mission field. In my condition, I surely did feel like the "voice from the dust." Though not able to see very well, as I peered into the faces of those former young men now grown old, I felt radiating from their faces a light which testified that their love of the gospel and their service to others did not end when they were 22 years old. The day Elder Uchtdorf was sustained as an Apostle he told the Saints:
"I have seen the face of Christ in your faces, in your deeds, and in your exemplary lives." [Elder Dieter F Uchtdorf, Ensign, November, 2004]
I echo that statement made by President Uchtdorf. I do believe that those who serve others and live exemplary lives truly have the face of Christ in their countenances.
Alma asked the people of Zarahemla the searching question: "... Have ye received his image in your countenances?" [Alma 5:14] Certainly this is an important question we could all ask ourselves frequently.
In my lifetime, I have known many who I believe have received the image of Christ in their countenances. Sitting in the celestial room during the dedication of the Newport Beach, California Temple a number of years ago, not more than 5 feet from President Hinckley and President Faust, I could not help but staring at them throughout the session. I could tell that through their many years of service to others, as well as their exemplary lives, accompanied by the sanctifying influence of the Spirit they had received Christ's image in their countenances.
Of literally hundreds of experiences I have had in seeing the face of Christ in the faces of others, and most recently during our trip to Utah to visit family and friends and then the missionary reunion, there are two that stand out in my mind.
Allen Rosza, former president of the Los Angeles Temple, and I had become good friends over the years. I had taught his football playing triplet sons in Institute in Santa Ana, California and had watched the boys play a few games. After my injury, President Rosza would come to the rehabilitation Hospital several times each week to encourage me to never give up.
After spending the day with me, one weekday evening Jo Anne left the hospital to drive from Downey to our home in Tustin. The distance is only maybe 40 miles but on a Southern California Freeway it can be harrowing, and especially dangerous at night for a single woman. The six months I was at the hospital she made this drive at least five days each week. Jo Anne was depressed and wondering how things were going to ever turn out. She just could not see the light at the end of the tunnel that particular evening . She even shed a few tears driving down the freeway and when she pulled off the off ramp near our home noticed that she was nearly out of gas. She pulled into a gas station near the off ramp and got out of the van to begin pumping gas. She had barely opened the door when Allen and Donna Rozsa pulled up beside her. Allen jumped out of his car and could see Jo Anne's distress and the evidence of tears. He filled the van with gas, not letting her pay for it, and then he and Donna took her to get something to eat. In only a few minutes, they lifted Jo Anne's spirits in a remarkable way. He told Jo Anne that he never used that gas station but felt prompted to get off the freeway at that particular exit, which he did. That evening Jo Anne saw the face of Christ in the faces of Allen and Donna Rozsa, as I had previously seen in the face of Allen so many times in the hospital.
Several months after coming home from the hospital, we were having a bad day. It was a Saturday and we had planned on going to hear the Know Your Religion speaker at our Stake Center that evening, but were depressed and despondent and just didn't feel like going out. Jo Anne was fixing us something to eat when we heard the doorbell ring. She went to the door and standing there was Ken Anderson, an administrator for continuing education for BYU. We had known him when he lived here in Southern California and his brother and his family had lived in our Ward when I served as bishop. If you know Ken you know that he has the most wonderful smile and spirit emanating from him that you will probably ever see or experience in any other individual. The minute he walked into our home the atmosphere changed from one of depression and darkness to one of joy and light. He was supposed to be at the Know Your Religion program but felt impressed to come to our home instead. We visited for some time and then he left. When he had gone Jo Anne said that we had just seen the face of Christ in our home. She was right!
Although I have only chosen to share these few experiences, I could multiply them by the hundreds, and am so grateful to be able to say to my family and many friends, as Elder Uchtdorf said: "I have seen the face of Christ in your faces, in your deeds, and in your exemplary lives."
And so I do believe that from time to time it is not so bad to look into the mirror and say, "Hey Mr., what is happening to your face?"
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Jo Anne
The fall of 1963 I was just beginning my senior year at BYU. The first Sunday of the fall semester I attended our student ward, the BYU 32nd Ward. As I sat down in the back of the room with my three roommates we all noticed a beautiful red haired girl sitting up toward the front. None of us had seen her before and all expressed a desire to remedy that situation.
Jo Anne doesn't believe this, but from that moment I just knew that she was meant to be my wife. As the semester progressed we became better acquainted with each other in an informal way. I was the Elder's Quorum president and Jo Anne was the magazine Rep. in our ward. Hers was the responsibility of making sure that all the members of our ward had subscriptions to the Church magazines. Weekly she would call in her report to my roommate who was the ward clerk, and who was not home most of the time. I would therefore take her report and we would visit and joke around while talking on the telephone.
Not only was I taken with her beauty, vivacious and fun personality, and obvious goodness, but I was also impressed with her because of her work ethic and independent nature. I sensed a great strength in her. Without any real support from any source she was really at BYU on her own. She would borrow the money she needed for tuition at the beginning of each semester and then working at Olson's Bakery near campus she would pay off her loan before the semester was over as well as supporting herself with the necessities of life. She would then borrow her tuition for the next semester and repeat the process. She drove the bakery truck, and was able to take home all of the day old pies and other pastries which made her the most popular girl with all of the boys in the 32nd Ward.
The truth is that I was much more interested in her than she in me. From the very beginning it was a delight for me to be with her. Then and now, I would rather be with Jo Anne than any other person I have ever known. It's just good to be with her. We used to regularly be ejected from the BYU library because we would start laughing and then get the uncontrollable giggles. I must admit I got very little studying done when we were together. I have always felt that Jo Anne is one of the friendliest people I have ever known. She is very open and will talk to anybody.
She is a good person. I have never known anyone with a more finely tuned sense of what is right and wrong than she. She has never made any compromise with evil. Her children know that. It is not in her nature to do evil. I'm not saying that she is perfect and I am sure that she will take me to task for writing this observation, but I have never met a better person. She has always had incredible integrity. She has been blessed with a high energy level. She has waged a war against dirt in its many forms all of her life -- moral dirt and physical dirt. She cannot tolerate disorganization and a lack of cleanliness in her home. She can work harder and longer than almost anyone I have ever known.
While serving as Bishop or stake president and also working full-time as well, I always knew in my heart that Jo Anne was doing as much or more in keeping the family and home together. She gave me the freedom to work and to serve with complete peace of mind knowing that all was well at home. I believe that
love is based upon respect and I have always had complete respect for her.
Over the 39 years we have been acquainted I have seen her grow spiritually. She has a great love for the Scriptures. Some of the best insights I have received into the Scriptures have come from Jo Anne. Her approach is always so fresh and insightful. Seldom does a day go by without her studying the Scriptures. Last year she read every word of the Old Testament. I
love to hear her pray - it's always right from the heart. She has great faith. Never will I forget fasting with her for several days while our two year old son John's life hung in the balance. She would not eat or drink until the crisis was passed. Though I gave the priesthood blessings it was Jo Anne's faith, manifested through her fasting and prayer that I will always believe was the catalyst in John's recovery. What is more powerful than a mother's love? More times than I could ever mention has she prompted me to fast and pray with her for the children or some other acquaintance in need. She has faith. She believes.
She has been blessed with a tender heart and the gift and quality of charity. Nobody knows that more than me. Nobody but me is totally aware of the tender and loving care I have received these many years since my accident. Nobody is more aware than I of the constant care that someone in my condition needs. Every doctor that ever sees me is so impressed at how good I look. That is because of Jo Anne. Her love literally has sustained me over the years. In many ways
her role in life has been more difficult than had she been a widow. She has become a one woman army - caregiver, financial planner, housekeeper, cook, advocate in fighting insurance companies, gardener, chauffeur and automobile mechanic, mother and grandmother. In all of this never once have I felt that she has felt that life has been a burden. She has true grit and determination. To me she is an Elect Lady in every sense of the word.
Well, I didn't want this to turn into a eulogy. Obviously there are so many more things that could be said about Jo Anne. I just wanted to make these few observations about her before I pass on into the happy hunting ground and have left unsaid what should have been said about Jo Anne.
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Jo Anne doesn't believe this, but from that moment I just knew that she was meant to be my wife. As the semester progressed we became better acquainted with each other in an informal way. I was the Elder's Quorum president and Jo Anne was the magazine Rep. in our ward. Hers was the responsibility of making sure that all the members of our ward had subscriptions to the Church magazines. Weekly she would call in her report to my roommate who was the ward clerk, and who was not home most of the time. I would therefore take her report and we would visit and joke around while talking on the telephone.
Not only was I taken with her beauty, vivacious and fun personality, and obvious goodness, but I was also impressed with her because of her work ethic and independent nature. I sensed a great strength in her. Without any real support from any source she was really at BYU on her own. She would borrow the money she needed for tuition at the beginning of each semester and then working at Olson's Bakery near campus she would pay off her loan before the semester was over as well as supporting herself with the necessities of life. She would then borrow her tuition for the next semester and repeat the process. She drove the bakery truck, and was able to take home all of the day old pies and other pastries which made her the most popular girl with all of the boys in the 32nd Ward.
The truth is that I was much more interested in her than she in me. From the very beginning it was a delight for me to be with her. Then and now, I would rather be with Jo Anne than any other person I have ever known. It's just good to be with her. We used to regularly be ejected from the BYU library because we would start laughing and then get the uncontrollable giggles. I must admit I got very little studying done when we were together. I have always felt that Jo Anne is one of the friendliest people I have ever known. She is very open and will talk to anybody.
She is a good person. I have never known anyone with a more finely tuned sense of what is right and wrong than she. She has never made any compromise with evil. Her children know that. It is not in her nature to do evil. I'm not saying that she is perfect and I am sure that she will take me to task for writing this observation, but I have never met a better person. She has always had incredible integrity. She has been blessed with a high energy level. She has waged a war against dirt in its many forms all of her life -- moral dirt and physical dirt. She cannot tolerate disorganization and a lack of cleanliness in her home. She can work harder and longer than almost anyone I have ever known.
While serving as Bishop or stake president and also working full-time as well, I always knew in my heart that Jo Anne was doing as much or more in keeping the family and home together. She gave me the freedom to work and to serve with complete peace of mind knowing that all was well at home. I believe that
love is based upon respect and I have always had complete respect for her.
Over the 39 years we have been acquainted I have seen her grow spiritually. She has a great love for the Scriptures. Some of the best insights I have received into the Scriptures have come from Jo Anne. Her approach is always so fresh and insightful. Seldom does a day go by without her studying the Scriptures. Last year she read every word of the Old Testament. I
love to hear her pray - it's always right from the heart. She has great faith. Never will I forget fasting with her for several days while our two year old son John's life hung in the balance. She would not eat or drink until the crisis was passed. Though I gave the priesthood blessings it was Jo Anne's faith, manifested through her fasting and prayer that I will always believe was the catalyst in John's recovery. What is more powerful than a mother's love? More times than I could ever mention has she prompted me to fast and pray with her for the children or some other acquaintance in need. She has faith. She believes.
She has been blessed with a tender heart and the gift and quality of charity. Nobody knows that more than me. Nobody but me is totally aware of the tender and loving care I have received these many years since my accident. Nobody is more aware than I of the constant care that someone in my condition needs. Every doctor that ever sees me is so impressed at how good I look. That is because of Jo Anne. Her love literally has sustained me over the years. In many ways
her role in life has been more difficult than had she been a widow. She has become a one woman army - caregiver, financial planner, housekeeper, cook, advocate in fighting insurance companies, gardener, chauffeur and automobile mechanic, mother and grandmother. In all of this never once have I felt that she has felt that life has been a burden. She has true grit and determination. To me she is an Elect Lady in every sense of the word.
Well, I didn't want this to turn into a eulogy. Obviously there are so many more things that could be said about Jo Anne. I just wanted to make these few observations about her before I pass on into the happy hunting ground and have left unsaid what should have been said about Jo Anne.
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
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