Francis M. Lyman

I found this ditty online today about my 2nd great grandfather Francis M. Lyman who served as an apostle and president of the quorum of the twelve (LDS - Mormon church.) I thought it commendable and worthy of emulation.

…Francis M. Lyman [of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles] had to come from Tooele the night before our meeting and spend one night [in Salt Lake City] and all day in order to be at the meetings of the Presidency and Apostles, which lasted two or three hours, but he never missed one of them.

I said to him one day: “It is remarkable to me that you are so prompt and always present at our meetings.”

He said: “I do not want to miss any inspiration from the Lord; I do not want the Spirit of the Lord to come to me second hand. I want to partake of it, and to feel it, and to realize it, and to know it for myself.”

Heber J. Grant, in the Conference Report, Oct. 1934, 122-123, as quoted in “Teachings of the Presidents of the Church, Heber J. Grant” (Priesthood and Relief Society Manual for 2004).

Beautiful Reunion

I am sitting down to eat honeydew melon drizzled with lime juice in honor of my mother-in-law who first introduced me to the pleasing and healthful combination of flavors. She passed to another world peacefully last Friday morning about 7:30 a.m. I was privileged to be with her at that moment when she slipped away so quietly we could hardly tell she was gone. I will always treasure that blessing. Time paused reverently. A sense of Sabbath and Resurrection filled the dated wallpapered bedroom just off the living room in the 100 year old house where she was also born. The sun had just risen over the hills and a mist was rising from the lake across the road from her house. It was a breathless, pristine morning. Barely a hint of crisp in the air. I thought to myself, "Of course!" She deserved to be escorted into heaven with the best the little valley had to offer - the valley she had intensely loved and lived in most of her life.

Soft, instrumental, dance music from the forties played quietly by her bedside as she left. In an odd little way it was comforting. She loved the music from bygone days. Her handsome husband took her dancing in their dating years. She was only 32 when death suddenly took him from her. And now they were being reunited. I like to picture in my mind that they danced together their joy in this long-awaited reunion.

We had her funeral yesterday and again the weather was picture perfect. A perfect day with a perfect send-off. All of us lingered in her now empty home afterward reluctant to leave - reluctant to have this last day with her end, knowing that on the morrow we would all have to begin moving forward once more with a life which will never be quite the same again.

This morning as I awoke I was missing her. I could feel she was definitely gone. I had felt a closeness with her off and on during the days between her passing and the funeral. I sensed she was with us, interested and involved - and happy. In fact, I would describe the feeling as joyful. But after the funeral as we were gathered around the casket at the cemetery and after the plot of ground had been dedicated with a prayer of protection and safety until the morning of the resurrection, I suddenly knew she had left. She had bade us all farewell with her love and departed towards that more exalted existence beckoning her. She had moved on. Gradually we drifted in small groups to our cars and exited to await our own time to make the journey she had just embarked upon.

Who names hurricanes?

The World Meteorological Organization uses six rotating lists to name hurricanes. If a hurricane is particularly big and destructive it's name gets retired and is kicked out of the rotation. The practice began with an Australian meteorologist in the late 19th century. My two favorite retired names? Hortense and Roxanne. No wonder Sting wrote a song about her! Or, maybe the hurricane was named after Sting's song. It would be the latter. I just looked it up and hurricane Roxanne did her thing in 1995. Hortense followed on her heels in 1996.

(See photo of Roxanne above.)

How Firm a Foundation

It has been of interest to me how many times I have heard someone share in a talk or in conversation a personal experience with the hymn "How Firm a Foundation." My previous post included a story by Sister Dalton and the encouragement she received from that hymn. I also have had several instances where I was given strength and comfort from "How Firm a Foundation" when I desperately needed it. Remembering those times, it touches my heart every time I read these words. My favorite verses are 5,6 and 8, ones we rarely sing. Here they are.

When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not thee o’erflow,
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply.
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.

The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose
I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.

It seems that Heavenly Father has been using the message given in these verses to comfort His saints for quite some time. I recently found this story from Amanda Smith whose husband and son were killed in the attack on Haun's Mill in 1838 in Missouri. Another son Alma's hip had been blown out by a musket ball and she received in answer to prayer directions from an unseen source on how to care for his hip. One day after the attack a message was sent to them from the militia that was nearby that the sound of their praying was hateful and they would have to cease praying or be killed. They dared not pray aloud, but Amanda stole out into a cornfiled. "I prayed aloud and most fervently," she said. "When I emerged from the corn a voice spoke to me. It was a voice as plain as I ever heard one. It was no silent, strong impression of the spirit, but a voice, repeating a verse of the Saints' hymn:

The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose,
I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I'll never, no never, no never forsake!

"From that moment I had no more fear. I felt that nothing could hurt me."

(From Our Latter-Day Hymns - The Stories and the Messages by Karen Lynn Davidson)

Steadfast and Immovable

I recently read Elaine Dalton's talk to the young women of the church last April. I've met Sister Dalton a couple of times and immediately took quite a liking to her. When she walks into a room she brings the sun with her. The first time we met I had been sitting on the stand for a church broadcast and afterward she came up to me and told me she liked my pink earrings that sparkled in the stage lights. That was fun to hear and extremely nice of her to say something complementary to someone she had never met. It was a frivolous little thing but I felt I had a new friend. It made my day.

More importantly however, I love the point she makes in her talk with the following personal experience.

"Being steadfast and immovable also means that you keep moving forward with “a steadfastness in Christ” (2 Nephi 31:20). Several years ago, I had the opportunity to run the Boston Marathon. I had trained hard and felt I was prepared, but at mile 20 there are hills. The locals call the steepest and longest hill Heartbreak Hill. When I reached that point, I was physically spent. The hill was long, and because I was a novice, I allowed myself to do something no seasoned runner ever does—I started to think negatively. This slowed my pace, so I tried to think positively and visualize the finish line. But as I did this, I suddenly realized that I was in a big city, there were thousands of people lining the route, and I had not made any arrangements to locate my husband at the end of the marathon. I felt lost and alone, and I started to cry. I was wearing a big red T-shirt with the word Utah printed on the front in big block letters. As the spectators saw that I was crying, they would yell, “Keep going, Utah.” “Don’t cry, Utah.” “You’re almost finished, Utah.” But I knew I wasn’t, and I was lost. I also knew that even if I stopped running and dropped out of the race, I would still be lost.

Do any of you ever feel like you’re running up Heartbreak Hill and that even though there are people lining the route, you are alone? That’s how I felt. So I did what every one of you would do—I began to pray right there on that marathon route. I told Heavenly Father that I was alone and that I was on a hill. I told Him that I was discouraged and afraid and that I felt lost. I asked for help and strength to be steadfast and to finish the race. As I continued to run, these words came into my mind:

Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.
(“How Firm a Foundation,” Hymns, no. 85)

That sweet answer to my prayer gave me the strength to continue on until I crossed the finish line. And despite my fears, my husband was right there and all was well.

That day I experienced more than a marathon. I learned some important lessons. First of all, never wear a big red shirt with the word Utah printed on it. Second, I learned that no matter how well prepared you think you are, there are hills on the course. I learned that people cheering for you along the way are absolutely essential. I learned again that day that we are never alone. Our Heavenly Father is only a prayer away, and the Holy Ghost is within whispering distance."

Thanks Sister Dalton for that vital reminder!

I love this picture of my mother-in-law taken last year at my daughter's wedding. There's something timeless and ethereal about it. She was 79 at the time. She has always been healthy and strong. She loves her fruits and veggies and has done yoga for years. Until just recently early mornings found her out hustling along the dike by the lake where she lives. She has a passion for learning new things. And she tries to apply them. All sorts of positive thinking quotes cover her fridge. She passed a love of reading on to as many of us as would grab hold. She is affectionately known as "Grandmother" among those in the "know." (When her first grandchild arrived "Grandma" was just not an option.) She was quite a striking woman in her younger years and still is I think. She carries a presence about her. I have learned much from her and I am grateful for all that she has contributed to my life. Just recently we learned she will not be with us for much longer. It's hard to comprehend. We are all still trying to grasp this difficult reality. The most comforting thought in all this is that she will shortly be joining the love of her life from whom she has been separated for 48 years. I can see the joyful excitement on her face as they are reunited. I will miss her terribly But right now I am thinking about her life and I want to joy in who she is. I love you Grandmother. Thank you.

The post wedding dance....

Yes, I did it. Been wanting to for years. It's the most fun I've had since...can't remember. It's a good thing most of my kids weren't there to see. (The ones who did were...entertained.) My new son-in-law is probably wondering.

One o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock rock....

Nauvoo

Randy and I were in Nauvoo last week with a CES workshop. (No, it didn't snow - this is a postcard.) We also spent some time in Missouri and Iowa on the Mormon trail. I came away from the experience with a greater sense of how tied we are with those who have gone before us. Their decisions impacted out lives. We are where and who we are in large part because of the things they did and the places they went. Even insiginifcant daily events can make changes for those around us generations removed. (Eg. Thomas Marsh and a pint of cream).

It makes you wonder about all the ripples in the pond and how far reaching they are. It's made me think about the impact my daily decisions might have on those yet unborn.

9 Lives

Inspired by my daughter's Nine Lives post I thought I would make a list of my own. It just won't be quite as creative and intriguing as hers but fun none the less. Here goes!

If I had 9 lives (other than the one I have) I would be:

An explorer - I would travel the world over and climb obscure mountains, hike into the nooks and crannies of the earth. I would need a few favorite people along who were up for any challenges and spontaneous side tracks.

A singer/musician - either jazz piano w/vocals or guitar folk singer. I would gather my musician friends for jam sessions every Wed. night.

A dancer - not ballet but maybe modern. Definitely knee slapping folk or clogging or tap dancing. Lots of rhythm - energetic, all over the place, exhilarating. I'd definitely dance in a group - no solos.

A rancher - Yep Lorien, I'd join you but not in Texas. It would have to be Wyoming, Montana or Colorado.

A philanthropist - I'd have lots of $$ to give away and I would fund worthy causes and give anonymous gifts and fund education for anyone willing to pull him/herself up by his/her bootstraps. Every Friday I'd go to a store and surprise a few people by paying for their purchases.

A Backwoodswoman - In my little cabin in the mountains I'd live the simple life - grow my garden, chop my wood, hole up and read during the winter by the fire. Go to town once a month.

A chef - but not at a restaurant. It would have to be a hobby. I'd have a fabulous kitchen with exotic ingredients and I'd specialize in gourmet but healthy food and have small dinner parties. As this would be on the side, I would also run a soup kitchen for homeless families. I'd need my previous life to fund all this.

A building contractor - I'd build custom homes for average people with a design team consisting of Lorien and Natalie. Very hands on. Beauty and functionality would be our goal. Breath deep the smell of cut lumber and new paint.

An interior designer - oh all those beautiful fabrics, rich woods, lovely paint. Definitely residential design.

CEO of a - Whoops! I'm out of lives. I was just getting going.