The American Pastime

I saw, in action today, what makes baseball and America great, at least for me. It is a game for all. Even I have played softball, catching with my worn out knees and loving every minute of it. But today I saw such beauty in the game and what it offers. I was attending a doubleheader for my son Malachi's team and then music started playing and people began cheering on an adjacent field. I walked over. There were a large group of people dancing and clapping and there were these children. Some of the most beautiful spirits you could ever hope to meet. And they were in uniform and they were so excited. You see, it was opening day for The Challengers, the handicapped league, formed a few years back by some great folks at Northern Lights. I watched for awhile and took a bunch of photos, three of which I posted here. Then I sought out a leader, because I wanted to know more. I learned that they began this league with 16 youth and now have 69 participants on 5 teams. I watched this man's face as he talked about this program and what it has meant for his child and for others and I saw mission. I love seeing mission. I got his information. Karl and my boys will be volunteering for this group, there is much need. My favorite photo above is the one with the young, able bodied boy, pitching to one of the young ladies on the league. The participants were enjoying themselves but the able bodied volunteers were lit up. It was glorious. My favorite moment of the day? A young man who was wheelchair bound got a hit and began making his slow way around the bases. An impaired young man got up behind, a large youth, and he connected and had a beautiful hit. He started around the bases and very quickly passed the wheelchair bound teammate. He got to third, realized what he had done and made a large circle to return to the teammate, asked permission, and pushed him so that they crossed home plate together. Yes, for those who know and tease me so often, I was crying. Best day of baseball I have experienced in years.

Hands

A new acquaintance recently said to me, "I look at people's hands first. This tells me all that I need to know." I got so excited. I took a breath to speak and tell her how much I could understand what she was saying. But she was not done. She continued,"If a person's hands are not clean and manicured, then one knows that they care little enough about their appearance and I would likely not be comfortable with them for very long." My mouth clamped shut as I quickly hid my hands from her view. But I feared that she had already seen my garden weary mitts. So I did not share with this person my feelings about hands. I too look at a person's hands first. Hands do speak volumes. But they tell a story, and I adore stories. My great grandmother Harmon and I were quite close. She was and still is my first real mentor. She and I used to sit together and watch people's hands and decipher from what we saw there, that person's story. If you play this game correctly, which Grandma always did, you can learn to have love and charity for a person without ever speaking to them. Noticing hands is still a habit for me. I realized this today, in a half a dozen situations where my reading of a person's hands gave me insight that I needed. As I sit here studying, I think of Christ's hands, the hands that paid such a price for me and for all of us. And I thought of how every one of our stories is written in His hands. And I wondered, for the billionth time in my life, how to repay Him for what He has done, just a small offering, since I can do little more. I turned again to scripture and was quickly led to Hebrews 12:12, "Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees." Oh, okay, I get it. So now I will focus on reading hands to know what I can do or say to lift them, not judging, but assessing, and then doing. It is the least I can do with my hands.

Clouds

I have been up for hours with a poor, ill, wee one. Seviah is trying to survive one of those nasty, 24 hour tummy bugs. Icky stuff. But, as I was sitting here, watching the day come into being, I was struck by something. Yesterday morning, we awoke to a foot of snow, and it was still coming down, and it was 34 degrees and the snow was melting off the roof. This morning, it is clear as a bell and it is 12 degrees. This fascinates me. Clouds fascinate me. They have since I was a very wee child. My two youngest and I watched the movie UP night before last and one of my favorite parts is when Carl and Ellie are lay and watch the clouds together, both in happiness and in sorrow. Someone once attributed my love for hiking as an attempt to get nearer to the clouds. This is likely true. I know that I have received some of my most powerful answers, insights, strengths and feelings of love and peace, while staring at the clouds. So, since I was up anyway, I went on a cloud search in the scriptures. WHOA!! It was so cool. God and clouds are intimately linked. He uses clouds all the time. I just love this. He is my insulator from my sin and my anguish just as clouds are the insulators for the earth. From the very early days of the earth, the cloud was His vehicle of choice. He set the rainbow "in the cloud"(1). He went before the children of Israel as they fled Egypt "in a pillar of a cloud"(2). He appeared to Moses "in the midst of a cloud"(3). When His people needed protection, He "spread a cloud on them for a covering"(4). In times of retribution, He "rideth upon a swift cloud"(5). Those who are translated to the heavens are "caught up together in the cloud" and we are to "comfort one another with these words"(6). When He returns to the earth "he cometh with cloud"(7). I could go on and on, there are a large number of other references to God and clouds in the scriptures. But I want to wrap up this comforting epiphany with the scripture that just enfolded me in His arms and brought me to tears, the good kind. In Isaiah 44:22 it states, "I have blotted out, as a thick cloud, thy transgressions, and, as a cloud, thy sins: return unto me; for I have redeemed thee." What an image that speaks to me in a very real and personal way. It is scriptures like these that make me feel that He is my God, my Redeemer, my Father, my Brother, my SAVIOR! 1) Genesis 9:13 2) Exodus 13:21/Numbers 14:14 3) Exodus 16:10/24:18 4) Psalms 105:39 5) Isaiah 19:1 6) 1 Thessalonians 4:17-18 7) Revelations 1:7

Laughter...

As has been previously noted, here on this blog, and on Facebook, and for a few sorrowful souls, in person, I have a laughing problem. I bellow, I guffaw, I snort, I tend to get my entire body into the act of laughing. Yes, I am an embarrassment to my loved ones, quite regularly. If they see me heading to the greeting card section, they scatter like a shotgun blast. I have decided to embrace it, I cannot fight it anymore. And with each passing day of my life, I find the laughter so much more necessary to survive. Yes, survive. Today, for instance, my dear, dear friend Melinda and I spent the bulk of the day together. We talked, A LOT. (Well, I talked a lot, Melinda is an amazing listener). And we talked about some very heavy issues and topics. And we could do this for an entire day because we laughed A LOT. The laughter cleansed our palates so that we could dive into the deep end again. I was talking about laughing with my kids tonight and one of them accused me of frightening people, on occasion, when my laughter issues forth, unexpectedly. This leads me to the true epiphany of the day for me. Laughter keeps the fear at bay. There are so many things that strike fear in my heart. For instance, this afternoon, I laughed and laughed at and with a young man that I love with all of my heart. He is very funny. Sometimes even when he does not mean to be and he is quite puzzled by this laughter, which makes it so much worse. But, for some time now, my heart has been heavy with fear for the young man. He is making some scary choices and is struggling to get a handle on finding a better path. For me, this means that I am even more desperate for the laughter when I am with him. When we are laughing, he is the lighthearted kid that I want him to be and the laughter strengthens me to face the down times that will inevitably be right around the corner. This is so true in so many areas of my life. I know that God sends me regular laughter opportunities just to balance me and allow me to be strengthened so that I can be a decent wife and mother and sister and daughter and friend and teacher and mentor and leader and person.

Judgement

Okay, anyone who reads this knows that I am not perfect. I am very far from it. That being said, I have to get some frustrations off my chest (as it were). I am so tired of people who put on such a good face and act as though they are good followers of Christ and act in Christ's name, but that love only applies to a certain kind of people. I see so many that I love being hurt by this kind of behavior and it just makes me want to explode. Now I am not saying that we must embrace every person that comes across our path as though they were our brother or sister, but we do need to be open and allow ourselves to appreciate those who are not exactly like us. We are told to use good judgement in those we share our lives with, but we are also told not to judge. There is not such a fine line between these two things as some would have me believe. It is very simple. The Spirit whispers to help offer good judgment, Satan is the author of judging. And even when we must use good judgement and create some distance between us and a person who may cause us damage, this can be done with a non-judgemental approach, and that person can still feel as though they are loved. I love the way that Marvin J. Ashton said it, "If the adversary can influence us to pick on each other, to find fault, bash, and undermine, to judge or humiliate or taunt, half his battle is won. Why? Because though this sort of conduct may not equate with succumbing to grievous sin, it nevertheless neutralizes us spiritually. The Spirit of the Lord cannot dwell where there is bickering, judging, contention, or any kind of bashing." I love this! He also said, "None of us need one more person bashing or pointing out where we have failed or fallen short. Most of us are already well aware of the areas in which we are weak. What each of us does need is family, friends, employers, and brothers and sisters who support us, who have the patience to teach us, who believe in us, and who believe we're trying to do the best we can, in spite of our weaknesses. What ever happened to giving each other the benefit of the doubt? What ever happened to hoping that another person would succeed or achieve? What ever happened to rooting for each other?" I am especially taken by that last line. I truly love rooting for all the people in my life. I am nothing more than a past-her-prime, overweight, cheerleader. Does this mean that I sometimes get disappointed and even hurt? Of course it does. But there is one thing that I have truly gained a testimony of, in the recent years of my life. God will make up the difference. He will help to absorb the disappointment and pain, if I am trying hard to truly love. I ache tonight as I send messages out to some that I love who are being hurt by gossip and intolerance and very harsh judgements from others. I ache and I beg, in my prayers that I can have charity. Especially the charity defined by Elder Ashton, "Charity is expecting the best of each other."

Mission...Purpose...Calling...Hmmmm

I watched some butterflies free themselves from their cocoons this morning. Heady stuff. Put me in thinking mode for the rest of the day. They know what to do. They know how to work it just right to free themselves from the chrysalis and they know just how to work their wings to get them dry and then they go right to work. I started looking beyond the butterflies at all the flowers and plants and trees and other forms of animal life that were around me. And it struck me that they know, most of them just coming knowing what to do. There are some forms of animal life that have to be mothered a bit, but for the most part, it takes very little mothering or training for most wildlife to fulfill the measure of their creation. We are not the same. We come knowing nothing. We come with our memories of any past understanding completely erased and we are helpless. But, because of my beliefs, I know that we are expected to not only fulfill the measure of our creation, but more. We are to complete a mission. We are to leave a legacy. We have gifts and talents that are uniquely bundled in each of us that precipitate a divine calling which we are to discover and then engage in, with all of our hearts. Today, I find this both empowering and overwhelming. A large part of me just wants to be the butterfly. I just want to be a life form that comes knowing what to do and how to do it. I just want to live my three days, frantically working the task that I was sent to do and then go back to my creator and rest easy, having reported that I did all that He required of me. But I do not have this option. I have been given a testimony of truths that do not allow me to simply exist. I must seek and learn and discover and grow and then offer something to others. I must serve and I must love and I must use my gifts to allow others to make the most of their gifts as well. This is hard work. Today, I heard SO many people commenting on the effort that the butterfly must put forth in order to free himself from what binds him and keeps him from fulfilling his purpose. We are no different, we just have to struggle against a different kind of binding force in order to free ourselves and fulfill the demands made upon us by the Creator. My question tonight is just how much do I have to do alone? The butterfly cannot have help. If any outside force tries to give him aid, he will fail in his purpose, he will not have the strength he needs to go to work on his assigned task. But I pray that we are not like the butterfly. Tonight, I am battling alone, and I am losing. It is my prayer that, just as we are different in the way that we are born and progress, than the other life forms on the planet, I pray that we are allowed to have aid and assistance in breaking ourselves free of what binds us. And I want to be free.

I love the youth

I taught my Shakespeare group yesterday. They are so amazing. But one thing occured that was just too priceless. Instead of giving them an assigned topic for their journal writing, I taught them the basics of writing haiku poetry. After sharing some of mine, I asked them to write their own. I then asked if any of them would like to share what they had written. Many of them chose to share and I was just sitting there basking in the amazing work that I was hearing. Then...it happened...I had been randomly perusing the offerings before the students stood up to read them because there are a couple of kids in there who might try to do something a bit off color. But then Daniel stood up to present his haiku. He started to hand me his paper but I said, "Oh Daniel, you need not do that, I trust you." I should have been warned by his behavior. He turned very red and turned away from me and started to sit back down. I can, occasionally, be naive and so I did not read the signs and I told him to stop being shy and to stand up and read his poem to us. Everyone laughed because there are few less shy than Daniel. He looked at me and said, "Really, are you sure?" I still did not get it and told him to go ahead. So...here was his offering...

Toilet Bowl

Pain is coming fast
The screams come in long, loud waves
Splash. Thud. The pain's gone.

Daniel stood there. There was a moment of dead silence and then we ALL lost it. It caught me so off guard that I did snort. I hate that because once a group of kids learns that about me, they never let me live it down. But I was hopelessly lost in laughter. It was a funny haiku, but the entire exchange beforehand when I had avowed to my total trust in Daniel just set it up so perfectly. It was a priceless moment. We had been struggling coming together as a group, which is so necessary in this first semester as we prepare to create a Shakepeare production in the second semester. I have been praying and pondering on how to bring this group together. Daniel and his bowel movement haiku may have been just the ticket. The entire timbre of the room changed and we were of one mind. I think that me and the two other mentors in this project were able to build well on the moment and we had, by far, our best class of the year after our little haiku exercise. I love the way these things can work.