Prospecting for gold

The talks from General Conference are still steeping around in my brain.  And I'm trying to keep that spiritual perspective, but life goes on and all the mundane things still have to get done ... dishes, laundry, work, manuscript, driving here and there ... and, oh yeah, sleeping a few hours every night *yawn* before starting it all again.

As I was vacuuming all the baseboards and corners yesterday morning I remembered a Sunday School lesson I taught a few weeks ago on the importance of following prophetic counsel.  In this particular case the counsel of Paul to the Saints in 2 Corinthians.  We started with the question, "If someone you trusted handed you sand with the promise that it contained gold, what would you do?"

I took this jar with me:

If you shake it enough, you see this:

If you dump it out and really poke around in the sand, you find this:

There's a lot of gold in there if you take the time to look for it.  I have discovered that this metaphor not only applies to the scriptures and conference talks, but to life in general as well.  There may be a lot of sand packed into every day, but hidden inside the most mundane things there are shiny flakes of gold. 

These are the things I can treasure up.  Laughing with my children.  The feeling of sunshine on my face.  A cool fall breeze.  The satisfaction of a  task well done.  Gratitude that my family is safe at home around me. A strong testimony of the gospel.  These are the things that make life good.  This is the gold I seek.

What are you finding in the sand?



A work in progress

I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  Every six months we have a worldwide general conference and we get to hear from the Prophet and other leaders in the church.  It's a great time for a little introspection and course correction.  After every conference I review my notes and create my list of "marching orders," things I've gleaned from the talks that I think I need to work on or improve upon.

So today, for my Work-in-Progress Wednesday I'll list a few of the things I came up with.  After all every person's primary work-in-progress has to be herself.  That's what we're all here for - to learn, grow, and progress.  So for the next six months I will strive to improve as I ...
     Develop a closer relationship with my Heavenly Father by keeping the commandments, doing things the Lord's way, forgiving, asking for forgiveness, asking for blessings, and having a spirit of gratitude.
     Prepare to take advantage of opportunities to share the gospel and/or serve my fellow beings -- I will try to do "the right thing, at the right time, without delay."
     Study the scriptures and treasure up the words of Christ and His prophets.
     Be worthy of and seek personal revelation to guide my actions.

That's the plan. 
What are your goals for personal progress?


    

Up a tree

This is Weasley.  He is a twelve year old bruiser of a cat.  When we moved in he adopted us.  We found him meowing on the doorstep one afternoon as we sat watching Harry Potter ... he's a red head, and a hand-me-down cat, so he must be a Weasley?  Right?

Weasley refuses to be a house cat.  He owns the block.  Everyone in the neighborhood knows him.  He sits at the bus stop with the girls in the morning and schmoozes with all the passersby.  He terrorizes other cats and even dogs.  One morning we watched as a German shepherd slowly sniffed his way down the hill towards us.  Weasley sat down in the middle of the intersection and waited.  Eventually the shepherd noticed Weasley.  He looked, he considered.  Weasley sat and stared.  The shepherd turned around and went back up the hill.

The other day we heard barking outside and looked out to discover a half-grown pitbull.  He had obviously leaped over the four foot fence and was now frolicking about in our yard.  He was wagging his tail, running in circles and returning over and over to bark up into one of our numerous oak trees.  The young man who belonged to him came through the gate and chased the dog down, while I watched from behind the screen door.  I love dogs, really, but you never know.

I had a sneaking suspicion about what was up the tree, I knew it had to be one of the neighborhood cats.  The young man left with his still barking and wagging charge back under control and an abashed, "Sorry."  And I ventured into the yard to get a good look up into the branches.  Yup, there he was 25 feet in the air, Weasley, who obviously knows that discretion is the better part of valor.

Fortunately, we have an extension ladder and Weasley was back on the ground within minutes.  He sauntered off to perch on the neighbor's fence.  The boss of the block once more.

Have you seen this film?

The Petrified Forest ... I LOVE this movie.

I just finished reading the stage play by Robert Emmet Sherwood.  The movie's pretty faithful.  They cleaned up the language at bit and left out a couple of the more suggestive (for 1936) comments.  It was excellent.

Just a bit of dialogue:
Gramp. Seems so to me.  But I'd like to tell you just one thing, my friend.
Squier. And what is that, Mr. Maple?
Gramp. There ain't a woman alive or ever did live that's worth five thousand dollars.
Squier.  And let me tell you one thing -- you forgetful old fool.  Any woman is worth everything that any man has to give -- anguish, ecstasy, faith, jealousy, love, hatred, life or death.  Don't you see -- that's the excuse for our existence?  It's what makes the whole thing possible, and tolerable.  When you've reached my age, you'll learn better sense.

And of course Leslie Howard, Bette Davis, and Humphrey Bogart -- woohoo!

WIP? Hats!!

Hats for the Newborn that is.
The program director at the library came up with a great idea a year or so ago.  We organized some of the local ladies to knit and crochet hats for newborns and preemies and we donated them to a couple of local hospitals.   Well, the ladies (and a few gentlemen) loved it!  So every quarter we keep repeating it. 

I've shirked off a couple of times and not contributed, but I have now repented of my sloth and have started turning out hats again.  They're very tiny and quick to do.

Preemie hats can be small enough to fit a lemon or a plum!

I have my doubts about this one.  My girls call it the egg. 

A baby doll models a baby hat.  It's amazing that a preemie might be even tinier than that.

People watching

Whether we're writers or not there's nothing like a little people watching to teach us about life. 

What's driving the mother who sits at the public computer in the library for hours at a time while her 8 year old chatters away to the librarians?  What's up with the tall blond woman roller skating through the library?  And what really happened to the poor guy who wandered in dazed, bleeding, and confused who told us he ran into a light pole while jogging passed the library at 8 in the evening?

Children of God, each and every one.  Are they lost, lonely, confused, independent, attention seeking, happy, or hopeful?  Who are they really, and who are we?

Rebecca Nurse

Why is it that when observing a neighbor (or a stranger) doing something (or nothing) we immediately start thinking too much and draw the conclusion that they are a) up to no good, b) as crazy as we thought they were, c) deserving of everything they get. 

It's for a very good reason that God has reserved judgment for himself, giving ultimate judgment to human beings is like giving a loaded gun to a toddler -- dangerous as all get out and sure to end badly.

In a classic case of false accusation and rush to judgment my 7x great-grandmother, Rebecca Towne Nurse at the age of 71, was accused of witchcraft by some rebellious and out-of-control teenagers in the town of Salem, Massachusetts in the year 1692.

The Trial of Rebecca Nurse

While initially found not guilty, the verdict was eventually changed to guilty and Rebecca was hanged.

In all 19 people were hanged for witchcraft that summer, the last 8, including Rebecca's sister, Mary Easty died on September 22, 1692.  Giles Corey was pressed to death under a pile of rocks in hopes that he would confess.  And four more people died in jail while awaiting trial. Other victims confessed to the crime and were freed.  Dorcas Good was 4 years old when she and her mother were accused of witchcraft and jailed.  Her mother Sarah was hanged with Rebecca Nurse.  Dorcas remained in jail for 8 long months and went insane. 

Years later in 1706, one of her accusers, Ann Putnam, apologized to the Salem Village church for causing the deaths of so many innocent people and claimed it was all because of a "great delusion of Satan."

The Rebeca Nurse Memorial

Rebecca Nurse Homestead

Danvers, Massachusetts

Rebecca Nurse was known for her piety, generosity, and goodness.  Many citizens of the town were shocked and outraged at the accusations hurled at her, but that didn't prevent a great injustice from being done.

So when I see my neighbor (or a stranger) doing something (or nothing) and I start to think too much, I choose instead to give them the benefit of the doubt.  If they're not hurting me or mine or themselves then I don't need to pass judgment or even make a comment.   I'll live and let live ... and leave the judgments to God.