Pioneer Trek Part 2

Before I recount my experiences on a handcart trek reenactment, I feel the need to give a couple of bits of background information.

If you are asking "What is a Pioneer Handcart Trek?"  Here is a link that briefly gives some facts and background to a small but significant piece of historical American westward migration.

HANDCART PIONEERS

Every six years or so, handcart trek reenactments are organized by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to give the youth (12-18 year old members) the opportunity to experience, in a small way, the hardships, faith, determination, and courage of their pioneer ancestors.  The youth are organized into "families" and assigned a "Ma & Pa" and a handcart.  All adults involved in this endeavor are volunteers and often use their own vacation/personal leave time from work in order to pull this off. Each participant is given a 5 gallon bucket to pack any and all gear and equipment into (except for tents and sleeping gear), which are placed in the handcart along with 2 food coolers and 2 five gallon water jugs.  No electronics of any type are allowed on the journey.  We estimated that the handcarts weighed approximately 500 lbs. fully loaded.  Then the "families" would pull their handcart for 3 days, camping in the desert/wilderness for two nights.

Here is the second tidbit of information...

I hate camping.  My idea of roughing it is staying in a hotel instead of a time share, and maybe even being willing to stay in a hotel with no pool (shudder!).  Yet, when we were asked to volunteer to be a "Ma & Pa", we agreed to do it.

Dedicating the Experience

Each person participating in this event was asked to research the Willie and Martin handcart companies, and to choose a specific pioneer in whom to dedicate their handcart experience, preferably an ancestor, if one existed in the companies.

I do not have pioneer ancestors, but Bill does.  Emily Wall is Bill's grandmother six generations removed.  She and her brother, Joseph Wall, were members of the Willie handcart company.  I trekked for Emily, Bill trekked for Joseph.  Here is their story...

The Wall family lived in England in the 1850's and had joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  They wanted to join the main congregation of saints in the Salt Lake valley (which was not even part of America at the time), but could not afford the journey for the whole family.  It was decided that the two oldest children, Joseph (17) and Emily (16), would leave the family and make the "Journey to Zion", as it was called.

{Side note:  As a parent, I can't even begin to fathom the sacrifice of that decision!  To leave their family and all that they know at such a young age!  And, at that time in history, they had to know that it was likely they'd never see one another again!}

Emily and Joseph set sail on the Thornton and joined the Willie handcart company.

At some point on the trail, and past the point of no return, Joseph became deathly ill.  The leaders of the company determined that it was unlikely he would survive the day.  They left Emily and one of her young friends sitting with the dying Joseph on the side of the trail and continued with the rest of the company to the evening camp, intending to send riders back to assist in burying Joseph and bringing the girls back to camp.  When the riders retraced the trail and found the girls, Joseph was still alive!  Emily begged the men to place her brother in her handcart and she vowed to pull him herself.

And she did.  She pulled her handcart (with the help of her friend), with her 17 year old brother in it, all the way to the Salt Lake valley; even through the bitter trials that beset that particular handcart company.  Both she and Joseph survived.

I can't tell you how fiercely proud I am of this young woman's faith, courage, love and dedication!  I tear up just thinking about her.

Day 1

We arrived, in pioneer costume, bright and early at the church building to load into buses and head out to the trek site, having delivered our camping gear (tents, food/water coolers, bedding, and 5 gallon buckets of essentials) the night before.  I ended up having to send Bill back home because in the excitement of leaving in the morning, I forgot a couple of essential items (neck coolers and gifts I had made for my "children").  Three buses delivered the approximately 120 youth and their adult leaders.  Originally, Bill and I had been assigned 7 kids, but on the night before trek we received an e-mail telling us one of the boys had pulled out.  On the morning of trek, we discovered one of the girls had also pulled out.  That left us with 5 "children", three girls and two boys.  It made us one of the smaller families and meant that our kids would spend the majority of their time physically pushing/pulling the handcart.  Other, larger families could rotate the youth, giving them breaks from the hard work of pulling the handcart.

That first day, we pulled the handcarts for about 10 miles over relatively flat ground.  Part of the day was cool and windy, part of the day was hot.  There is a joke in Utah that says if you don't like the weather, wait 5 minutes or drive 5 miles.  Really, the weather here is that changeable.  The ground alternated between gravelly and powdery dirt.  We all got coated in fine, gritty grime by the end of the day.  For a while, I had a bandana covering my face, trying to filter it out.  I can't tell you how good it felt to finally pull into camp on the first night.  Hot, hungry and foot-sore, we put up our tents.

The original members of the Willie and Martin handcart companies ran into trouble because they left late in the season, and no one knew they were coming.  When they reached the re-fueling way stations, there was no one there and no supplies with which to restock.  They had to cut rations again and again in their attempt to reach the valley.  By the end (just before they were rescued), they were down to 4 ounces of flour per adult, and 2 onces of flour per child each day!  They mixed it in water and drank it.  Many men mixed their own portion with their wife's and children's, telling their families that they had already eaten back at the supply wagon.  That is why so many more men died than women.  They were literally sacrificing their own lives in the hopes that their families would survive.

Fortunately, we have no desire to put the youth though that kind of experience!  There was an incredible support staff that brought in food to the camps for every meal.  We were well fed.

Once everyone had eaten and had their tents up (girls on one side of camp, boys on the other, leaders tents in the middle), everyone gathered for square dancing.

!!!

Oh, my feet hurt!  I DID NOT want to dance.

But, we danced.  And it was FUN!  There was so much laughter.  It was really fun to see these young people who are usually completely plugged in (texting and zoned out with earbuds in) being so playful and full of life.

There were lots of devotionals, prayers, and singing...

... but there were no showers.

We had packed baby wipes and used those to get as clean as we could in our tent before going to bed.  Of course, the very next morning, we had to put back on the same grimy and gritty clothes we had worn the day before, because we only had one set of pioneer clothes.

Let me just say a few words about the clothes.  Yes, I still think pioneer women wore too many bulky clothes.  However, I noticed something almost from the beginning.  It suddenly didn't matter what my body looked like under all those clothes.  It didn't matter that my tummy pooches more than I'd like.  It didn't matter if my underarms sagged a bit.  It didn't matter that I'm carrying around 20 lbs. of extra fat.  None of that mattered because you couldn't really tell under all those clothes.  There is nothing revealing about those clothes, whatsoever.  All that mattered was what was in my mind and in my heart.

Day 2

We woke up to the bugle call at 6 am.  I had a rotten night sleep, waking at 2:30 am needing to pee, but being unwilling to disturb the camp with a flashlight dash to the port-a-johns in the dark.  So, I tossed and turned in discomfort until 5 am, when it was finally light enough out to venture through camp sans flashlight.  After tearing down the camp, breakfast, and morning devotional, we headed out for day two of handcart trekking.

The second day was only 5 or 6 miles, but they were on rougher terrain and in bad weather.  Cold and wet in the morning, scorching in the afternoon.  The kids had to push and pull through the rain wearing ponchos.  The dust turned to mud that caked the handcart wheels and the bottoms of everyone's feet, making shoes feel like lead.  Still, the rain meant cool weather, for which we were all grateful.  The afternoon weather turned blisteringly hot, leaving us pulling into evening camp in 100 * temperatures.

Let me take a moment to talk about my "kids" on trek.  We had two senior aged girls, Maddi and Ashley, a junior aged boy, Chandler, a sophomore girl named Tianna, and Kaden, our freshman "son". Maddi and Ashley were WONDERFUL big sisters!  They were so helpful and kind to the younger kids!  They both had wonderful singing voices and were very mature, grounded girls.  We had no silly giggling fits (thank goodness!), no worries about them sneaking off with boyfriends, being out after curfew, or leaving chores undone.  Chandler was a quiet, sober, and slightly geeky boy.  I say that as a compliment.  There was no bluster or false bravado in him.  He was always quick to help and to obey.  Really a solid gold "son"!  Tianna was what you might call our "challenge" child.  She wandered off constantly and I spent a great deal of time just trying to keep her with the family.  Yet she wasn't malicious about it.  I got the sense that it was part of her nature.  She lived in her head and had a hard time focusing and hearing when we called her name.  Our youngest, Kaden, was the life of the party.  He's one of those kids with excess personality!  His friend, Tony, often wandered over to our family handcart, announcing that he was our "adopted son".  Just like Chandler, Kaden was a hard worker and never shirked a responsibility or disobeyed.  I was just so impressed by these young people!  I'm so proud I got to be their "Ma"!

After another evening of square dancing, group devotional and family devotional, we headed to bed.

Here are a couple of side stories, not specific to my little family.

While the tents were being set up in the 100 * heat, a girl from another family passed out in her tent.  Her trek "sisters" thought she was just napping and left her alone.  Fortunately, her "Ma" thought it was odd that she would be napping in a hot tent and went to check on her.  Upon finding her unresponsive, she quickly summoned the medic, Brother Smith, who took the girl back to the lodge and administered an IV to get some fluids in her.  I believe she ended up being transported to the hospital and missed the rest of the trek.

At about 10:30 pm (30 minutes after curfew), a strong wind hit the camp.  Suddenly a bunch of girls started screaming!  Moments later we had girls amongst the leaders' tents calling out for their "Ma's and Pa's" because their tents had collapsed.  We hurried out and found two of the big walled tents down.  One was a quick fix, anchoring the stakes down more firmly.  The other one, however, had a shattered pole!  Some duct tape and a shuffling of sound poles to the windward side and damaged poles to the leeward side fixed up the tent and everyone headed back to bed.

Day 3

This was another short mileage day.  Something between 5 and 6 miles.  But it was the day with the biggest challenges... the Women's Pull and the River Crossing.

The Women's Pull

Many pioneer women ended up pulling the handcarts across the plains by themselves.  Some came alone.  Others lost their husbands on the way.  There are many accounts of these amazing women pulling handcarts and caring for large families alone for literally hundreds of miles.  Emily Wall was one of them.  As a way to honor that heritage, and to help the young women in our care learn that they are stronger than they know, the men were pulled away from the families, and the girls took the handcarts alone for about a mile.  But not just any mile.  A grueling and brutal mile.  Part was uphill, all was in ankle deep silt.  The carts were bogged down by it.  The pull was extremely taxing.

The girls were watched over by the "Ma's", but we had specific instructions NOT to help.  Oh, that was SO HARD!  To watch those girls struggle!  I knew that the lion's share of the burden was falling on Ashley and Maddi.  Sweet young Tianna was not a hard worker.  Maddi and Tianna ended up in front, Ashley pushing from the back.  Ashley got literally coated with dust, but she never flagged in her efforts.  The cart lurched and jerked to a halt several times, and I admit I stepped in to help steer it aright and to budge it forward from time to time.  But I mostly walked by their side and watched these excellent girls struggle and hummed hymns of encouragement to give their minds a focus on something other than their difficulties.

The men and boys were lined up on both sides of the end of the women's pull.  They watched with their hats in hand as the girls struggled past them, many of the girls weeping as they toiled, including my own girls.  They watched as many of the first girls to finish turned around and quickly ran back to help other girls bring their handcarts along.  Most of the boys and men had tears in their eyes, as well.  While the "Ma's" and medics tended to the girls after the pull, the men pulled the boys aside and instructed them to never in this lifetime leave the women in their lives to pull the handcart alone, metaphorically speaking.

I wished I could hold all of my girls at once, but I knew that Ashley was the strongest, and Tianna's tears were mostly a reaction to Maddi's tears.  Maddi was the one who was completely undone by the experience.  I held her while she wept and Brother Smith (the medic) and I both kept a close eye on her for the rest of the afternoon.  Still, I did manage to get hugs in for all the girls.  I just worry that Ashley might have felt less love.  Not so!  I just knew she was my rock solid daughter and that Maddi's condition was worse.  She was literally shaking uncontrollably.

Now, you might think us a heartless group of child abusers for putting the girls through such a thing.  Here is some food for thought: I know what it is to overcome a physical challenge.  To subject myself to my own will and accomplish a truly difficult task.  You know about it if your read my account of running a marathon.  And now, those girls know it, too.  They have experienced a true mind over matter moment that will benefit them for the rest of their lives.  It is also important to note that this was not sprung upon them, unawares.  They were fully briefed in advance and no one was forced to participate.  It was actually a very moving and spiritual experience for everyone involved and all the girls were very proud for having accomplished it.  The boys were very respectful and impressed.

The River Crossing

After singing several hymns (giving the girls some time to recover), the boys and men took over the handcarts.  Not a single girl was allowed to pull the handcarts for the rest of the day.  The boys wouldn't dream of it.

On October 19, 1856, the first winter storm rolled across the Willie and Martin handcart companies.  The Martin handcart company was unfortunate enough to have to cross the North Platte river right when the storm was at its worst.  Even worse, in a desperate attempt to lighten their load and reach the valley more quickly, the pioneers had abandoned most of their clothing and blankets only two days prior to the storm.  Soaked and freezing, they found the ground too frozen to drive the stakes in for their tents.  So they crawled under the canvas laying on the ground and tried to stay alive.  Many died that night.

But, help was on the way.  Several weeks previous, an express wagon had passed the handcart companies on the plains and brought word of their existence and their dire need to Brigham Young, the Mormon prophet and leader, in the Salt Lake valley.  Upon learning of the situation, Brigham Young immediately ordered rescue parties to set out that very day.  Women stripped off their petticoats, shoes and stockings, and gathered blankets to send.  Provisions were loaded on relief wagons, despite the settlement being on short rations due to a bad growing season.  A rescue was on its way.

After finding the handcart pioneers in truly desperate condition, and tending to them as best they could, the rescuers still had to bring the emaciated and terribly weakened saints the rest of the way without becoming victims of the elements themselves.  When they reached the final river crossing, the Sweetwater River, many of the handcart pioneers sat down in the snow and wept in despair.

Five young men from the rescue party, ranging in age from 17 to 25, stepped forward and carried the weakest of the handcart pioneers through the river, each crossing the ice choked river as much as 50 times in their efforts to save the saints.

The final challenge of our handcart trek was a river crossing.  The boys were instructed to pull the handcarts through by themselves (no men helping), park them, then come back across and carry each and every one of the sisters across the river.  This being a desert, and rivers being somewhat scarse, the river was a manufactured body of water.  Still, the challenge of carrying over 60 girls and women across was real enough.

Bill carried me across.  The grown men were only allowed to carry their wives.  The young men had to do the rest.  We were towards the front of the handcart train, so my "sons" had more than their share of duty in carrying girls across.  I imagine they woke up this morning with very sore muscles.


And then, it was over!  After the river crossing, we were just yards from the lodge.  We parked the carts, met with our bishops to have a closing devotional, then unloaded the carts, power washed them, put all our gear into the supply trailers, got family photos taken, and loaded onto the buses to return home.  Over all, we pulled those handcarts a total of approximately 22 miles.



It was three days of hard work, hard weather, sweat, and gross grimy shower-less-ness.  But it was oh so worth it!  It was really the most amazing experience and I am so very glad I got to experience it!

Farewells

Summer is ending.

I hate endings.

Really.  I have had such a good summer!  I have slept in more often than not.  I had one and only one goal this summer... exercise.  So, when my daily workout was complete, I was off the hook and could be as lazy as possible!  I have spent quite a few days playing at the pool with my little nieces, aged 3 and 18 months.  Those are some fun times!  I've been biking all over the valley, hiking, kayaking, windsurfing, swimming, running, having backyard bonfires... and all with no schedules!  I usually take off the watch for the summer, but this summer I kept it on because it is a waterproof lap timing watch that is useful when I swim.

And despite the lovely rash, I have enjoyed every single moment of this summer!

But it is almost over.

I officially go back to work next Thursday (a week from tomorrow, gasp!), but I still have to go put my classroom back in order before then.  I won't get paid for it, of course.  It just seems to be another one of those ways that teacher get taken for granted.  We are expected to have a classroom put together and ready for the school year, but we aren't given the paid time in which to do it.  I am not complaining, though.  My classroom is easier to set up than most, and I know many of the other teachers I work with have already spent many hours in the school getting ready for school to start.  I am likely the last one to straggle in and get my room ready.

But this post isn't just about saying farewell to summer.  An even bigger farewell happened just yesterday.  Helena's boyfriend, Dagen, left today to serve a two year mission for our church.  Yesterday they had to say their goodbyes.  They won't be able to see each other, or even call/text each other during those two years, so they'll have to rely on more archaic forms of communication.  I think they can e-mail (which is archaic to them) and they can certainly use snail mail.  In fact, Helena is already planning some cute care packages to send his way.

She won't be putting her social life on hold for two years, however.  She'll still go out with friends, and probably even date other guys.  But I certainly hope she'll keep all her socializing very casual and friendly so that she is still single when he comes home.  She'll only be 20 when he gets back, after all!  Still too young to get married, in my opinion.

I'm not saying I want her to marry Dagen, either.  I'm not ready to even entertain the thought, no matter who she ends up marrying.  She got a wedding invite in the mail today for a girl she was in Orchestra with!  This girl was a senior when she was a junior.  So she is getting married at the age of 19.  Gah!  That freaked me out.  I remember her from when I volunteered as a chaperon on an orchestra trip and it blows my mind that she is stepping from childhood so early.  Nineteen is still a teen, after all!

Phooey.  I'm rambling.  My thoughts on the whole subject are rather pointed and skewed by the fact that I am the mother.  I am just happy for her to keep living at home, and... how do I say this?  I am happy for her to have this experience of dating a boy who is willing to put his life on hold for two years over his religious convictions.  I'd have felt the same if he went and joined the Peace Corps for those two years if that was his passion.  It shows he is a young man of purpose and character, and I am glad she chose such a fine young man to be her boyfriend.  So I don't see this farewell as a tragedy.  Rather, I see it as a growing experience for both of them.

So, farewell, Dagen!  You probably never knew exactly how I felt about you dating my daughter.  What with the whole 'get home by curfew' business and being your girlfriend's parent, you probably thought I didn't like you.  Quite the contrary.  I think you are a fine young man!  Good luck, do well, and you have all of us rooting for you back here at home.

Farewell!

An Uplifting Thought

I read this quote recently and thought it would be a good one to save...

“The Lord works from the inside out. The world works from the outside in. The world would take people out of the slums. Christ would take the slums out of people, and then they would take themselves out of the slums. The world would mold men by changing their environment. Christ changes men, who then change their environment. The world would shape human behavior, but Christ can change human nature.” ― Ezra Taft Benson

What's Christmas Without a Little MoTab?

This morning we went to a Christmas concert.

A couple of months ago, I stumbled upon a request form for tickets to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas Concert online.  I decided it would be a fun holiday activity for the whole family, so I entered our request for 4 tickets.  There were 4 performance options and you had to list your preference order from 1 to 4.  My first choice was Friday night, followed by Saturday, Sunday, then Thursday.  The chances of getting the tickets was pretty slim, because it is a VERY popular free concert.

So, imagine my surprise and delight when 4 tickets for the Sunday morning concert arrived in the mail a couple of weeks later!

We woke up to a freezing fog.  It was probably only about 12*F outside.  There wasn't much traffic, seeing as it was a Sunday morning, and I bet at least 1/3 of all the cars headed north on the freeway with us were all headed the same place we were.  When we got to downtown SLC, the line of cars trying to get to the parking lots closest to the Conference Center was immense!  So we skipped it and drove off on our own to a parking garage farther away, then walked.  Yes, it was a cold walk, but I swear we got there sooner than if we had been in that monster line of cars.

Images of the Salt Lake Temple in the fog.  There were literally thousands of people all around us, so it felt festive and yet peaceful all at the same time.  I have to say, it is incredible how streamlined and efficient  the church volunteers are at getting everyone inside, through security, and seated!  The security is probably always there, but we were so lucky to have Sunday tickets for one special reason.  I think the security was there because the prophet and president of the church, President Thomas S. Monson, was in attendance at this performance!  When he walked in, the entire room silently stood in respect as he took his seat with the audience.

And when I say the entire room, that is no small thing!  The Conference Center has a seating capacity of 21,333 people!  Nearly every seat was filled for this concert (and I am sure for the 3 preceding concerts).  It is a truly immense space!  We were sitting on the terrace level.

The concert was a combination of singing by The Choir (there is really only one great American Choir) and an Opera baritone named Nathan Gunn, recitations by Jane Seymour, music by a master organist, the Orchestra at Temple Square, and Bells on Temple Square, and dancing.  So really, a little of everything!  One interesting note, the large screens on the walls allow the audience to see the zoomed in images that are broadcast to TV, and when the cameras zoomed in on the ballet dancers in center stage just blow the choir, we recognized one of them!  Her name is Rachelle, and she just retired as the principal ballerina at Utah Regional Ballet, where Helena used to dance.  She is such a sweet girl and it was fun to recognize someone we knew personally in the performance!

At one point during the performance, the announcer came on stage to ask the audience a favor.  Apparently, during his rendition of "T'was the Night Before Christmas", Nathan Gunn does something funny that gets the audience laughing.  The audio recording department wanted a 'clean take' because they are creating a DVD of this year's performance to be released next year.  So they asked an audience of 21,000 to just smile and not laugh at the funny spot.  And you know what?  It was done!  Other than one or two people who seemed to have no self control, that is.  But they were up in the terrace, so I don't think it would have been a problem.

The first half of the performance was actually the live broadcast of "Music and the Spoken Word".  "Music and the Spoken Word" is the longest running live broadcast program in history.  It first aired on the radio in 1929.  There is a blurb about it on the back of the second program (the one pictured below).  It says that the first announcer had to stand on a ladder to speak into the single microphone, which was hanging from the ceiling.  He stayed on that ladder for the entire performance.  He also had to wait for a telegraph signal to let him know when to start the show.

It is so incredible to think how much things have changed!  This was a high tech and VERY professionally run show.  If you have ever watched it (you can usually find it on your local PBS station) you would never know that there are over 20,000 people in a live audience watching it happen.

It was a fun morning and a great way to start off Christmas vacation!

The Changing of the Guard

Today we received a new Bishopric in church.

There is no paid clergy in my church.  Each congregation is lead by a Bishop, who is called from the congregation for a period of time (usually around 5 years) to act as the leader of the congregation.  It is a huge sacrifice and commitment for the man serving, and to his family, too.  The Bishop leads and directs the congregation, performs weddings, oversees funerals, directs the use of welfare funds for the poor, checks on the orphans and widows, and hears confessions of those who need church help in overcoming sins.  All of this while still working at his normal job to support his family.

Our Bishop up until today has been Bishop Brailsford, a neighbor and friend of ours.  We are roughly the same age and our children have grown up together.  The new Bishop is Bishop Rowley, an older, retired gentleman in the congregation that we have known for years, though not well.  He got up to speak for the first time as our Bishop and I was glad to hear that he has a sense of humor.  I think that is important in a man of God.  He told a story about his grandfather's old plow horse who had been retired from the traces, yet still walked out to the plow every day, waiting to be hitched up and work.  Finally, the grandfather humored the old horse and hitched him to the plow and let him furrow a field.  The horse died in the traces.  Bishop Rowley joked that he hopefully wouldn't 'die in the traces'.  It doesn't sound very funny in print, but it sounded cute and funny when he said it over the pulpit.  He also said he thought he might make a list of his 22 worst character flaws, to save us the hassle of discovering them over the course of his service as the Bishop.  Then he decided against it, saying it would be more entertaining for us to discover them along the way.  He then bore testimony of the divinity of Christ.

Primary Program... and other Sunday lessons

Today's Sacrament service was brought to you by the Primary!

The youngest Sunday School classes (broken down by age... 3-11) are collectively known as 'Primary'.  In these classes, children learn gospel basics like 'Jesus loves me' (age 3) to Jesus' life and teachings, baptism, and repentance.  Once a year, the Primary puts on a program during Sacrament meeting to highlight some of what they have learned.  Children read scriptures or give short (and I do mean short!) talks and sing LOTS of songs.  There are so many children participating that they fill up not only the choir seats behind the pulpit, but the front pews of the chapel, as well.

The Primary program is always such a hoot!  There's the boy on the back row waving enthusiastically to his family sitting in the pews.  There is the bitty girl on the front row crying for her mommy until her teacher takes her down and reunites her with mom.  There is the squirmy boy who can't stand still during the songs and instead sways his whole body back and forth in order to get his tie to swing like a pendulum.  And the kid who is turned completely around in his seat, not paying attention or participating in any way other than physically being up there.

When my family was younger, I was on high alert during the primary program.  Guaranteed, every year a child o' mine was one of the children described in the above paragraph.  So I couldn't enjoy the show because I was so focused on what my kids were doing.  And there were the years when I was a Primary teacher myself, so I was focused on a whole row of squirming bodies instead of just my biological offspring.  Now I don't have any Primary aged kids, nor am I a Primary teacher, so I can sit back and be entertained by the show.  Children's voices singing about Jesus are so very sweet!

*****

In other church classes, we discussed who Israel was and the gathering of 'Israel' prior to the second coming of Christ.

Israel was Jacob, son of Isaac, son of Abraham.  If you drew a genealogical chart, it would look something like this...

Noah 

  | 

Shem-->Eber-->Terah 

                | 

  --------------|---- 

  |        |        | 

Abram    Nahor    Haran 

  |                 | 

  |----------|     Lot 

Isaac    Ishmael    |------------------- 

  |          |                |        | 

  |------|   |--->Arabs<-----Moab    Ammon 

Jacob  Esau                            | 

  |      |------->Arabs<---------------- 

12 sons 

  | 

Israelites & Jews

This chart came from HERE, a fascinating, if dry and academic look at migrations of the peoples of the world and how they can all be traced back to the three sons of Noah.  This is not a Mormon website, and is not official doctrine, but is an interesting read, nonetheless.  Shem was the oldest son of Noah and the only one shown on this particular genealogical chart.  According to the web article about the Table of Nations, my ancestry is linked to Noah through Japheth, his youngest son, not seen on this chart.  Yet that doesn't preclude me from being linked through the 12 tribes of Israel, also.  But for that, we need to back up.

The 12 tribes of Israel refer to the 12 sons of Jacob (who received the name Israel from God), the son of Abraham (Abram).  Jacob's sons  split into two factions, making a Northern Kingdom and a Southern Kingdom.  The northern kingdom was destroyed by attacking enemies and the 10 tribes who settled there were taken captive and all record of them disappeared.  They became known as the "lost tribes of Israel".  The two tribes left in the southern kingdom were also attacked and taken into captivity around 586 BC (100 years after the northern kingdom was destroyed).  Both of these events caused the descendants of Israel to be scattered all through the world.  Every generation born causes more and more people to be included in the house of Israel without their even knowing it because the children of Israel married into the cultures and regions where they found themselves.

At any rate, I am rambling on and probably putting you to sleep.  I found the genealogical aspect of the lesson fascinating, as you can tell.  

*****

This afternoon, after church, our Home Teachers stopped by.  This is another church program where two men from the congregation are assigned to stop by our house once a month, bringing a spiritual message and making sure that everything is going well for our family.  If the family was struggling (unemployment, illness, needing help with something), the home teachers are supposed to be on hand to find out about the need and get in touch with the right people to help solve the problem.  It is a networking and fellowshipping program.  For instance, we found out from them that one of our neighbor's injured his hand while trying to finish re-shingling his roof.  He's going to need help finishing the job, so we'll probably head over there tomorrow afternoon and lend a hand.  We visit and chat and joke around with the home teachers.  They are good guys.  

One of the home teachers shared a story told by President Monson.  He (Pres. Monson) was at the bedside of a dying man who asked "what happens to me after I die?"  President Monson was able to read a passage of scripture to the dying man from Alma, chapter 40, verses 11-12, in the Book of Mormon.  It says; "...the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, yea, the spirits of all men, whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life.  And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow."  The dying man was reassured and was able to meet death with a calm heart.

I have only once thought I was about to die.  Many years ago, I had been driving recklessly and lost control of an SUV on a large sheet of black ice going freeway speeds.  Fortunately, I was able to keep the car facing forward and eventually got it back under control.  But there was a moment when I thought I had killed us all with my poor judgement.  There was no time in that instance to contemplate my mortality and what lay beyond death.  All I could think about was trying to get control of the car and not flipping over!  

But I can't imagine facing death with the terror of not knowing what is to become of me!  To see death as the end of all things?  To suddenly stop existing?!?  To no longer be me?  No. Death is not the end.  I am certain of it.  More certain than I can testify to here.  I know I will continue to be me after I die, and that my Grandparents and little brother are waiting on the other side to welcome me home after I have lived out this life.  It is good to know.

General Conference

Once every 6 months, my church holds a General Conference for the membership world wide.  At these meetings, the leaders of the church speak to us.  There are 5 two hour sessions spanning a Saturday and a Sunday.  When I was a child, my family drove a long distance to sit in a larger church building that could hold multiple congregations all at once, so we could watch one session re-broadcast on a screen.  I hated it because it meant sitting still for two whole hours, listening to what I thought were boring old people, instead of just one boring hour in Sacrament meeting, then off to my fun age appropriate classes.

When I moved to Utah as a young adult (to attend BYU), I discovered that I could watch General Conference on the TV in my living room!  That was SWEET!  I could sit around in my PJs, listening to church while eating popcorn and candy!  My parents and siblings still had to drive to a meeting house.  Not me, baby!

Of course, nowadays, with all the amazing technologies available, you can watch General Conference LIVE anywhere in the world, provided you can connect to the Internet.  So, you can watch at home on the TV, the computer, or iPod/smart phone.  You can choose to watch/listen on the go while traveling, or while camping with the family... so long as you can get reception.

I missed yesterday's sessions of conference because we were out and about shopping and at Will's lacrosse game.  Sorry, but you can't really listen to church services and cheer on a lacrosse team at the same time.  So I made a point of listening to both sessions today.  Bill and I went on a 20 mile bike ride this morning (oh!  It was so beautiful out!) and got back just in time for the first session to start.

I won't give you a blow by blow of all the speakers, because truthfully, my concentration phased in and out and I didn't catch all of it.  Instead, I will give you some thoughts that stood out to me... messages that seemed to jump right out and grab my attention.  I have learned to pay close attention when that happens, because it usually means that it is a little bit of gospel that I needed right at that moment.

MESSAGE NO. 1

A message to the dads of the world.  How do you raise a daughter in this toxic world?  With all the miserable messages being pushed at young women in the media (men will love you if you dress a certain way, buy a certain product, act out in this way), it can be a scary thing watching your daughter grow to be a young woman!

The answer?  LOVE HER MOTHER!  Show her by your actions what it means to be a loving husband and father so she will know what to look for when it is her time to consider starting a family of her own.  The messages you portray daily in your actions as a husband will speak much louder than all the other crazy messages she gets elsewhere.  It will give her the confidence to know how her future husband ought to behave towards her.  And how her dates should be treating her now.

Of course, I took from this that I also ought to be modeling with my daily actions what a WIFE should be.  Both for my daughter and for my sons.  How I treat my husband will shape their perceptions of what a marriage should be like.

MESSAGE NO. 2

It seems like these days our cultural code of conduct has become "Anything goes, if you can get away with it".   But God is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow, and our moral code of conduct has not changed.  The 10 commandments are still in force today.

1. Thou shalt have no other gods before me. OK
2. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth: Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them. no problem here.
3. Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain.  This one has always bothered me.  Not because I disagreed with it, but because so many people break it ALL THE TIME!  I have always been so uncomfortable hearing people using God's name (and Jesus' name) as a swear word.  Don't get me wrong.  I swear more often than I like to admit.  But not those names.  I feel VERY uncomfortable hearing people abuse this very plain commandment just about all the time.
4. Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.  Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work: But the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates.  I am a big offender here.  I am always using Sundays as a catch up day on my laundry and if I'm really confessing here, I will admit that I didn't get the grocery shopping done yesterday, so I did it today.  I definitely need to re-evaluate my attitudes toward Sunday.
5. Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.  OK.
6. Thou shalt not kill.  Usually not a problem, as long as he isn't referring to those pesky spiders that keep sneaking into my house!  ;)
7. Thou shalt not commit adultery.  This is one that our culture in America is screwing up pretty royally.  Adultery encompasses the whole spectrum from pre-marital sex, to pornography, to plain old cheating on your spouse.  I am here to tell you all that there is something very pure and precious about being able to say that my husband is the only man who has ever 'known' me.  That is a gift that I gave to him years ago.  And that fidelity is a gift that I keep giving to him each and every day of our lives together.  A very precious gift.
8. Thou shalt not steal.  This is one of those 'duh!' kind of things.  But, really.  Stealing can be as small as taking office supplies from work for use at home.  Of course we wouldn't dream of walking in a store and stealing there, but what about that pen from work?  Can we be absolute about this one?  We should be!
9. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.  No lying.  Check.  I've never been good at it anyway.
10. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbour’s.  Durn it.  I struggle with coveting sometimes.  Not my literal neighbor, of course.  But I do love to look at magazines of beautiful houses and yards.  That's not bad, as long as I don't let it make me dissatisfied with my home.  And, yes, I will admit that as a child I giggled over the word 'ass' in the scriptures.  Really mature, I know.

The message here is that people seem to think that going their own way, making up their own moral  code of conduct will bring them happiness.  The truth is that there is nothing that can bring more lasting joy to our lives and more peace to our souls than following Jesus Christ.  

MESSAGE NO. 3

This one was a great analogy-story.  The speaker related something that happened to him while on vacation with his family.  There were warning signs on the beach of a rip tide.  He felt that he was a good swimmer, and if he stayed in the shallow water, all would be well.  He was enjoying himself in the water when he looked to the beach where his family was playing, only to discover that the current had taken him farther out than he had anticipated.  He struggled and struggled to return to shore, only to find the current too strong for him.  As he grew weary and began choking on the waves, he was in real danger of drowning.  Finally he called out for help and a life guard was there almost instantly.  Apparently, the life guard had seen him go out in the water, knew he'd get into trouble, swam around the current to the spot he knew the current would carry him, and waited for him to ask for help.

The Holy Spirit is like the life guard.  He is always right there for us, anticipating our need for help.  All we have to do is call out!

I love stories I can relate to!  I am a swimmer.  I have been in the surf during a rip tide (although I never got into trouble because I turned back when the life guard told me to).

MESSAGE NO. 4 (last one, promise)

This was another analogy.  Apparently they catch my attention.

This speaker was telling a story about his 3 year old granddaughter.  Her mother was giving her choices with consequences attached to them.  Choice/consequence no. 1, eat your dinner & get to have some ice cream.  Choice/consequence no. 2, don't eat your dinner, no ice cream and go straight to bed.  The granddaughter came up with her own solution to the problem...

Ice cream for dinner and no bed!

We chuckle over that, but how many times do we think we can choose, not just our actions, but the consequences, too?  If she could have it her way, she would end up malnourished and exhausted.  Consequences are not meant to be a punishment, but a way to keep us healthy.

My favorite quote of the day came from this message, too...

"Your eternal destiny will never be a matter of chance, 

it will always be a matter of choice."

Sunday Thoughts

Today's Sunday services were really packed with people.  The chapel overflow wasn't even enough to hold the congregation and the 'cultural hall' (aka the gym) had to be opened up to accommodate everyone.  The reason?  Missionaries.

More specifically, the speakers this week were a congregation member returning from his mission and another congregation member about to depart on her mission.

My church is a proselytizing church.  Members can choose to put aside the cares of their own lives and serve the Lord for 1 1/2 to 2 years.  For young members, age 19-21, it is a proselytizing mission somewhere in the world.  For older couples and single adult members, it could be a proselytizing mission, or a service mission.  My mother-in-law performed a service mission as a botanist at a church run summer camp for girls.  Other retirees have used their life and work experience to serve as educators, in the welfare program, or building wells and bringing clean drinking water to developing countries.  There are many ways to be of service.

The first speaker was Eliza G.  She is about to leave for a mission to Frankfurt, Germany.  She will serve a 1 1/2 year proselytizing mission.  She is 21 years old.  She is currently a student at BYU, but will be setting aside her college plans while she does this.  It is amazing to me that she is old enough to go on a mission!  She is our next door neighbor.  I have watched her grow up.  Even though she is 3 years older than Helena, she used to come over and play Barbies with Helena when they were young.

Her talk was about being careful not to judge other people from the very little you actually know about them.  She used the story of Mary and Martha in the New Testament as an example.  Most Christians know the story.  Jesus comes to visit.  Mary sits down to listen to the message Jesus has to share.  Martha bustles about with the cares of the household, serving, cooking, and cleaning.  She asks Jesus to chastise Mary for leaving all the work to her, but Jesus' response was that Mary was attending to the work of the spirit.

Many people have taken this story as a teaching tool; painting Mary as the good sister who is spiritually in tune and Martha as the 'bad' sister who was too preoccupied with worldly cares.

However, later in the scriptures, Martha is the one to come to Jesus and declare his divinity at the time he raises Lazarus, her brother, from the tomb.  It is a powerful declaration of her testimony in Christ.  It also highlights the fact that Martha gets a bad rap because too many people take one moment out of her life and define her with it.  Think about it.  All of us have our less than stellar moments.  Would you want your whole life to be judged on that one moment in time?

Eliza's talk centered on the fact that the only one who truly knows each and every one of us through and through is God.  You may think you know someone from your limited interactions with them, but there is no way you can truly know them the way the Lord does.  Eliza said the best we can do is love everyone, knowing they are God's children and that they have an infinite worth that we can barely comprehend.  After her talk, she told me she forgot to give her favorite quote and told it to me, so I told her I would put it here.

“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”
― Mother Teresa

 The second talk was given by Tanner C., another 21 year old, who recently returned from serving a two year mission in Concepción, Chile.  His talk centered on fulfilling the tasks appointed to you by God, and more specifically, on the responsibilities of young priesthood holders.

The young men who bless and pass the sacrament every Sunday are doing that as part of their priesthood responsibilities.  The priesthood is the power and authority to act in God's name.  As young men in the congregation get older, they progress in priesthood responsibilities from passing the sacrament, to preparing it, to blessing it.  Adult priesthood holders can perform church ordinances in the name of God, like baptisms, confirmations, and blessings for babies and the sick.  

The priesthood is held by men.  Some would say that is outdated and sexist.  Perhaps.  But, men cannot bear children.  Women can.  If you believe in the divine creation of man, then the division of labor (quite literally) is divinely appointed, too.  Men carry the priesthood forward.  Women carry the species forward.

Besides.  I really have quite enough on my plate without adding one more responsibility.

Anyway, there was one comment in Tanner's talk that stood out for me.  He said that if he found himself standing at the Judgment Seat at the end of his life and had to confess that he did not fulfill his responsibilities on earth because he was lazy, he would die of shame.  Of course, if he is standing at the judgment seat, he is already dead... but the sentiment is accurate nonetheless.  We all have responsibilities in this life to act as Christ's disciples, to lift and encourage others.  Don't let laziness stand in the way!  Imagine facing Christ with such a feeble excuse for poor choices and inaction.

All in all, it was an excellent Sunday service and I want to thank both Eliza G. and Tanner C. for their excellent talks!

Church Depression

These days, I struggle with getting the kids to go to church.  I can't seem to get them to want to come with me.  So, I go without them.

Then, I see all their friends sitting with their families.  Those parents don't have any difficulty getting their kids to attend... why do I?  I know that later, after Sacrament meeting, Will's friends will walk over to our house to try to convince him to come to Sunday School with them.  He usually turns them away.  But that never stops them from trying.

I have asked around about this dilemma before.  I know many people (my parents included) who have told me; "I simply didn't give them a choice.  If they want to live under my roof, they have to attend church."

Really?

Are you really ready and willing to let your child move out of your house at the age of 15, because you forced him/her to go to church or get out?  Do you really think that forcing them to attend will give them a firm belief in the gospel?  It is more likely to give them a firm and abiding dislike of their parents.  Because, let's face it.  Most kids are trapped by that statement.  They can 'run away' to a friend's house and the parents will just have the courts drag them back, since the parents are the legal guardians.  And let's just analyze the Christian content of that statement.  Did Christ force people to follow him, or believe in him?  So, should I force my children to be good Christians by attending Sunday meetings?  Those sort of absolute (and ignorant) statements are not Christian in nature, and are not helpful to me in trying to find a way to inspire my children to want to attend church.

To me, that ranks right up there with; "I won't let my son get his driver's license until he earns his Eagle Scout."

Wow.  That is very manipulative.  What does one have to do with the other?  Do you make your daughters get their Young Woman's Recognition Award before they get their licenses, too?  (The answer, there, by the way, has almost always been 'no'.)  So.  Sexist and manipulative.  I see.

Anyway, it makes me very sad to know that my kids don't see church as a means of getting closer to Christ.  They don't see the gospel, they see the imperfect people there who are trying to live the gospel.  Or not.  There is some hypocrisy in every congregation.  Goodness knows, I am probably one of the worst offenders there.

I don't have any answers here.  The only thing I know how to do is tell them it makes me sad, and ask them to come to church.  If not for themselves, then at least come for me.  I am their mother.  I am not asking them to do anything that would be bad, dangerous, or make them break any personal/moral codes.  It seems like such a small gift to give me, if only they would.

And  I pray for them.

Today's message in Sacrament Meeting was actually about Sacrament Meeting itself.  You may recall that I told you there are two other meetings after Sacrament, making church attendance on Sunday last 3 hours.  Of all the meetings, Sacrament is supposed to be the most important, and the most reverent.  So people can feel the spirit and come away feeling uplifted.  So less active congregation members and visitors to the congregation can feel welcome. 

Our meetings are often loud.  Before the Bishop starts the meeting, there are usually loud conversations going on.  People arranging appointments and activities (for visits or for scout stuff, that sort of thing), or just catching up on each others lives since they saw one another last Sunday.  When the Bishop stands up to the pulpit, people hurry to their seats for the meeting to start. This is not isolated to my congregation, either.  It tends to be a church wide phenomenon.  The speakers today reminded us that such visiting is appropriate out in the foyer, not in the chapel.  The chapel should be a place of reverence and introspection.  Of course, we can't possibly force little children to be silent, and parents have always struggled with teaching children how to be reverent in the chapel, but how ironic that the adults have to be reminded of the very thing they try to teach their children!

After the meeting, as I approached the pulpit to give the Bishop my tithing, one of my visiting teachers came up to me.  Visiting Teachers are a program in the church where two ladies are partnered up and assigned some other ladies in the congregation to visit monthly and make sure they are doing well.  In theory, a great system.  With a lot of love and friendship, a beautiful system.  It builds community and provides the opportunity for both service and a way to seek help if needed.

Well, as I said, one of my visiting teachers came up to me as I was standing in the chapel, at the pulpit, giving the Bishop my tithing.  She asked if they (both ladies) could come visit this afternoon.  I wonder if she was even aware of the irony of her request following the message we just received?

I said 'yes'.

Then I skipped out on the rest of church so I could clean my house for the expected visit.  I will admit, though, that I was going to go home anyways, so I can't really blame her for skipping Sunday School.  But I really hadn't intended to clean house on the Sabbath.

Oh well.