Dig a Little Deeper

Early mornings are my quiet times. They’re almost sacrosanct, and I don’t want to hear television, radio, or even a human voice until I’ve had some quiet moments to read something uplifting and write in my journal. One particular morning, however, I clicked on the television to check the weather…something I never do. While trying to find the weather channel, I discovered a female televangelist talking about something that interested me.

Intrigued by her manner and message, I actually plopped down on the couch to hear what she had to say. Holding something black and somewhat ugly in her hands, she proceeded to turn the substance around to reveal something beautiful inside, lavender glistening rock-like material. She then went on to ponder aloud why God would put something so lovely deep within something so unappealing. To get to the treat within, someone had to dig a little deeper, to chip at the surface until the black exterior disappeared to reveal the treasure within. I flipped the channel in search of weather news, and yet the concept stayed with me.

Diamonds, one of the hardest and most beautiful substances known to man, have to be mined. So do gold and silver. Oil, a precious commodity, is beneath the surface of the earth and must be drilled. Water is beneath the earth. This is also true with people in that you can't judge by appearances. Some fascinating, brilliant, interesting folks live behind less than glamourous facades; you just have to dig a little to discover what gems they are.

What I'm wondering this afternoon is how we can think that an understanding of gospel priniciples is going to come to us if we don't actually read, ponder, and pray. What good is it to have scriptures and other inspirational books and magazines if we never avail ourselves of them? How can we expect to know of God's will for our lives without asking Him and waiting for the answer(s)? Just beneath the surface, there are all sorts of treasures, but I think we need to dig a little deeper to discover them.

Thanks Michelle

As always (yes always), I came home from church feeling edified, inspired, and uplifted. Not only did I get to spend some time with like-minded (like-spirited) people, I also got to sing, listen, and learn. Anyone who could’ve sat through today’s Sacrament meeting and be unmoved has a heart of stone.

I’m looking forward to studying the Old Testament in Sunday school this year. When I was a child, I was captivated by the stories. How did Daniel make it in the lion’s den? Why didn’t Isaac try to get away from his father when Abraham needed a sacrifice? Wasn’t it obvious to him what might happen? How can I get the faith of Hannah? And talk about women—wow, that Esther was awesome! This year we’ll revisit some of these stories, and I know I’ll gain insight into their meaning and application to today’s world.

In Relief Society, Michelle talked about what we could be working towards as a ward this year. Beginning by saying that she’s not that crazy about resolutions, she quoted someone who said if you’re doing something wrong, why wait until January 1st to correct it? Do it now. If there’s something you need to work on, do it now too.

After a few more introductory remarks, Michelle said they (the RS Presidency in our ward) had decided that 2010 was going to be a year of service. “Let’s take the focus off of ourselves and onto others,” she suggested. After listening to several scriptures and numerous stories of service that had occurred right in our ward, I think we all felt more resolved to be a little kinder, to look out for each other, and to offer whatever type of service we could. Some people are into making casseroles while others might find arranging flowers or cleaning houses more to their liking.

How often have you intended to help someone but procrastinated, hoping someone else would take care of it? What if the Lord needs something done and He wants you to do it…but you don’t? What if you’re the person who’s the designated miracle worker, but you’re too busy watching Dancing with the Stars or shopping to make a phone call or write a quick note? Do you get caught up in the “thick of thin things?” I do.

I was pretty good about doing charitable acts during December, but just like many others, I have to work hard to overcome what I’ve heard referred to as the “seasonal belch of philanthropy.” I’m not into resolutions either so I’m not exactly “resolving” to give more service. However, I am going to try to keep that Christmas spirit of love and giving in my heart and actions all year long.

Thanks Michelle. Great lesson.

The Blind Side's Virtuous Woman

I keep thinking about a movie I saw Thanksgiving afternoon, The Blind Side. Starring Sandra Bullock, the movie chronicled the life of a family who “took in" a young black man and made him a part of their family. That’s actually an understatement. They loved him, taught him, took up for him, and included him in all aspects of their daily lives. Plus, they got involved in his life and nurtured and mentored him in sports and academics. In case you’re thinking that this was just another sappy, sentimental movie perfect for the holidays, think again. This movie is based on reality, and this family really exists. They live in Memphis, Tennessee. And the young black man? Well, he’s Michael Oher who plays for the Baltimore Ravens of the NFL.

What I’m leading up to is that the mother, Leigh Anne Tuohy, is like no one I’ve ever known. If anyone fits the description of the virtuous woman described in Proverbs, she does. Honestly, I know of no other woman who has willingly extended herself to that degree to another person, much less a homeless, impoverished young man from the other side of the tracks. Heck, I know women who are not even willing to make sacrifices for their own children, much less a child who is totally “different,” someone who’s a “project from the projects.” Nevertheless, Leigh Anne did. She gave him the basics of a bed, food, clothing, and then she set out to consult with his teachers, coach, and biological mother. She was “there” for him at practices and games and any other situation that a mother should be. Actually the entire family was involved, but it was the mom who was the catalyst behind everything from getting him off the rainy street to signing with Ole Miss.

So now Leigh Anne Tuohy is one of my new role models. I’m not as big hearted, generous, or influential as she is, and I suspect that you might not be either. However, there is something that each one of us can do for another person to make his or her life better, and I think that’s what our Creator expects us to do. He expects us to extend love to others at all times and in all places, but at this time of the year, it seems especially important.

So I don’t know about you, but as for me and my house, we’re committing to at least one extraordinary act of kindness every day of this special holiday season. I’ll never be Leigh Anne, and I feel totally inadequate when compared to the virtuous woman in Proverbs, and yet there’s something I can do. And there’s something you can do too. Let’s commit to it today.

Leaving Home

Some people say that the most defining moment in the Old Testament is when God tells Abram to leave his country, his kindred, and father’s house and go to a land that he will show him. Me, I don’t know. My knowledge is pretty puny about these things. What’s brought the passage to mind are a couple of young families I’ve been thinking about this past week. Today, instead of writing about women in the Bible, I’m going to write something related to some of Eve’s modern day sisters.

A week or so ago, Anita Ervin began a month of Thanksgiving notes by expressing her gratitude for her family and the life they’re currently living in Oklahoma. I remember when they left with their two young daughters and infant son. How brave they were to be moving across country so that Ben could start his new job. That was well over a year ago, and it seems that everyone is thriving.

Another example would be my oldest daughter Carrie. Married for nearly ten years, she and Rich have lived in four different places, and they currently reside in Rincon, GA. Wherever they’ve moved, Carrie has found new friends and made a nice home for her family. I’ve never heard her say, “I’m lonely,” or “I’ll never be happy in this place.” Quite the contrary, she’s adjusted well, and I think part of it is because she knew it was the best thing for the whole family. She knows that her attitude can affect both Rich and her children, and she consequently squared her shoulders and got involved in the community, especially the church and schools.

At the same time, the parents and grandparents of the above families miss them dearly. In my case, it’s only three hours away, and yet with our schedules, sometimes it might as well be three days. Last weekend I had the opportunity to spend some time with one of my brothers and his wife and one of his sons. Becky and I chatted off and on throughout the two days, and one of the things we talked about is how in biblical stories, people lived close to their families. I think what prompted this conversation was thinking about her adult sons and where they would settle. Like most moms, she wants them to stay close by, not next door but not a thousand miles away either.

Speaking of sons, mine lives in Atlanta, four hours from me and over six hours from Amanda’s family. Do I miss him? You bet I do. Sometimes I think that if I don’t see his blue eyes soon, I’ll go bonkers. Still, they’re there for a reason, and I honestly think that living there has helped them grow closer as a couple. Then there’s the graduate school thing, a puzzle piece to whatever God has in store for him.

All this got me thinking about Abraham and how he left Haran for Canaan. Does that mean that “kids” need to get out of their fathers’ houses in order to find their own way? Would we have ever heard of Abraham if he’d been recalcitrant and said NO? God might have found another to be the father of many nations, but that’s not what happened. What happened is that the family left their home of origin, and well, you know the rest of the story.

So I guess as a mother and grandmother, my job is to raise children and turn them over to God. If their paths lead to faraway Canaan, then I’ll have to accept the fact that perhaps it’s for their own growth. Is that what you read into this story too? Or am I seeing things that aren't there?

Scared Heart?

I’ve been listening to Sue Monk Kidd’s The Mermaid Chair on CD, and one of the few things that I like about this book is one of Jessie’s memory of a conversation she once had with her daughter. As a child, her daughter Dee thought the church Mary of the Sacred Heart was really Mary of the Scared Heart. Jessie, the mom, is remembering that conversation years later and thinking about whether Mary was scared or not. After all, she thinks, “scared heart” might just as much sense as “sacred heart.”

Amanda’s having a baby. She’s my daughter-in-law, and I’m super excited about this baby. I don’t even know this little one yet, the tiny fetus that we’re referring to as Baby C, and yet I’m already thinking about him or her. Amanda saw the little one actively swimming about during her sonogram Monday, and she excitedly told me about how he or she was moving its little “nubs,” future arms and legs. Is it a boy or a girl? Will the baby be tall, short, blue-eyed, curly-haired, athletic, scientific, musically inclined, a great dancer???

While I’m excited, I can’t help but feel a twinge of anxiety from time to time. Will Amanda’s pregnancy and labor be smooth and uneventful? Will Baby C have all ten fingers and toes? While I know that it's coming to a home with parents “kind and dear,” will they know how to handle a colicky baby? One of my students missed a test today because her baby is in the hospital with a fever of 104. What if that happens to Paul and Amanda’s baby?

All of this (and more) has got me thinking more about Mary. Was she scared? She surely had reason to be. She was a child by some standards, probably no older than 16. Plus, as far as I can determine, it’s not as though she had the love and support of her parents. Elisabeth seems to be the only person she felt comfortable enough to confide in, at least at first. Eventually she had to face Joseph, her betrothed. Do you think she was scared to tell him? I do. She had had a visit from Gabriel, but so far Joseph had not. Here she is an unmarried teenager without support or encouragement, and she’s having a baby. Don’t you know the town gossipers had a heyday with that? There weren’t hospitals around either. The longer I think about this, the more I realize that indeed she may have been petrified. Yes, the angel had said, “Be not afraid,” but still….

Here's the scariest part (to me): Mary was carrying the literal Son of God, the Savior of the world. Can you even imagine such a feeling? I can’t. Amanda is carrying a child of God, and while I know there may be times when she too might feel a little fearful or anxious, she has the love and support of family and friends. She also lives in a time and place where there’s the best medical care possible. Oh, and of course there’s the fact that she’ married to Paul, a man who will surely magnify his role as a father.

Sparrows and Me

Going on a road trip with girlfriends can be a wonderful experience. Don’t get me wrong. I love traveling with my husband too; it’s just that he’s not as into laughing, talking, and taking side trips. Sure, I’ve told him that it’s the journey and not the destination that counts, but he’s a guy, one who’s all about getting there. I say that with love.

So this past weekend I went to Atlanta with some work chums, and we chatted all the way there and all the way back and all times in-between. Before the weekend ended, we had pretty much solved the education and healthcare issues in America (Why don’t the powers-that-be ask us for our opinions?), expressed much consternation over the appalling lack of civility in the United States (witness Joe Wilson’s latest outburst), and shared thoughts and memories about our families.

This morning as I sit waiting for my class to complete a test on D2L, I can imagine Lisa’s grandmother telling her to wash her hair until it squeaked. I used to hear the same thing as a child. I can see Nancy’s father standing on the front porch demanding that she come in the house instead of sitting in the driveway with her sweetie. Martha says her hair is like her mother’s…as are some of her gestures. And yours truly? All this family talk dredged up lots of memories from my past. I used to go to Forest City, NC with my paternal grandparents on a frequent basis, and I can still recall sitting in the back seat of their celery green Chevy and we wound around curvy two-lane roads.

All of the family talk must have still been on my mind Sunday morning. As I sat in Sacrament meeting, the thought occurred to me that only one person in the entire meeting even knew my parents. Only Mrs. C. knew what great people they were, she with her classiness and he with his lovable eccentricities. Saddened, I couldn’t let that thought go. How could it be that people who were so instrumental and influential in my life just pass on, unknown or perhaps forgotten?

After Sacrament, I left the room for a few minutes and was chatting in the hall when Lowrance approached. “I’ve got something I want you to see,” she said. She handed me a small black and white photograph of four young women, all smiling flirtatiously at the camera. From their attire and hairstyles, I could see that it was “vintage,” and Lowrance said that the picture was snapped sometime in the 1940s. “Do you recognize anyone?” she asked. Right away, I saw my aunt Polly smiling up from the foursome, black wavy hair framing her beautiful young face. Turning to Lowrance, I asked, “Did you know my aunt? What about my parents?” It turns out that she did know them, although not that well since my parents and aunt were older than she. Still, she did know them. She had seen them often, and they live in her memory just as they do in mine.

So what’s the point of this rambling post? As I was telling my son Paul about this story yesterday, I had a flash of insight. We’re all familiar with the scripture of God having His eye upon the sparrow, right? And we know that He’s aware of each of us, and that while He might not speak to us in a big booming voice, He is mindful of our needs. It’s often through another person that He makes us aware of His presence in our lives.

Maybe I’m reading too much into this incident, but you’ll never convince me of that. I have a great heritage, and I miss my parents and grandparents…sometimes more than others. Sunday was one of those days, and Lowrance was inspired (I think) to show me a little picture, a picture that brought solace to my soul. My heart too.

Finding Balance

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Mary and Martha verses in Luke. Although there are only two of them, they’re fraught with meaning. Exactly what is the better part that Christ chastens Martha about? Okay, I know what He meant, but I don’t know how to always find the balance I need. And how does one make time for it when there are people to feed, clothes to wash, floors to sweep, and provisions to buy? I have my quiet “soul time” early in the morning, but what about other times when the Martha traits creep in?

This weekend provides an excellent case in point…or two or three of them! My husband and I bought a duplex in Myrtle Beach so that we’d have a place to retreat to when the world got “too much with us.” And we also wanted a place for family and friends to gather and have lots of fun and fellowship. Labor day weekend was to be the celebratory weekend, and my daughters, son-in-law, and four grandchildren all gathered for our first holiday together there. We had dinner guests on both Saturday and Sunday evenings, with Sunday’s repast being the family feast. My brother Mike and his family joined us for Beaufort Stew, and it was fabulous to be sitting around the table basking in each other’s company.

So anyway, pretty much all weekend I was busy, busy, busy running errands, doing laundry, cooking, and so forth. Sunday rolled around, and we all went to church together. That’s a given unless someone is sick or seriously wounded. However, Elizabeth and I left after Sacrament to make a run to Wal-Mart for some final Beaufort Stew ingredients. We didn’t feel good about it, but nevertheless, we did it. Yes, we entered a place of business and bought something on the Sabbath.

Later that afternoon while everyone else was chillin’, Elizabeth was working on lesson plans, and I was working in the kitchen, doing things in preparation for the evening’s events. My little granddaughter Brooke walked into the room and announced to us that it wasn’t right to shop on Sunday and that we were supposed to keep the Sabbath holy. Knowing that she didn’t understand the ox in the ditch principle, I let it pass.

It reminded me of days of yesteryear when my former mother-in-law would leave church early to complete dinner preparations for a houseful of hungry people. Sometimes someone might “tsk tsk” her behavior, and even then as a young person without much depth, I could well understand that if she hadn’t left early, there’d be no food. Which was the greater sin? Leaving early to do a good deed or passing judgment on someone who was doing far more good than many who stayed for all three services? I might add that on most occasions, she would also prepare an extra plate of delicious food for a shut-in widow who lived close by.

Is there a way to be Mary and Martha too? If we are too much Mary-like, who will buy groceries, prepare the food, set the table, polish the silverware, sweep the floor, and change the linens? If we are too Martha-like, then we can lose our spirituality and risk becoming materialistic, worldly, and maybe even short tempered and impatient. In the account in Luke, she appears frustrated and angry.

I’m just saying it’s hard to find the balance. I’m also saying we need to cut others some slack when they’re doing the best they can.