Letter to Jessica

I thought I would share my letter to Jessica this week with the rest of the family. I thought you might like to read it.

As you near the end of your sojourn in Sikeston I am sure you are reflecting on your many months there and the people you have met and helped come closer to Christ. I am sure you can point to tough times that have tested your soul and made you wonder what you were doing there. On the other hand I am sure there are many other memories of the good experiences that you will carry the rest of your life. I know you have made an impact there. Probably more than you will ever know. I think of the impact of just one life joining the gospel and the trickle down effect through generations. Somewhere either here or in the spirit world is a set of missionaries who served in the little town of Freeport, IL. They couldn't know the impact they would have have on hundreds and even thousands of people their influence would have when they met a new mother who was looking for more truth. She listened intently to their message and accepted. They were transferred out shortly after probably never realizing that that mother passed on the gospel to her children and that all of them would be married in the temple and three remain true to the faith the rest of their lives. They would go on to have 5 children between them that were active into adulthood with 2 missions served among those children and countless others taught the gospel through those missionary's efforts. Those 5 children had 21 children of their own with 4 of them serving missions already. How many lives have been impacted now because of the efforts of that one woman who accepted the gospel or her 3 daughters or their 5 children who have remained active or the 21 of their children? How many generations to come will be impacted by the opening of that one door?

Now let's go back and imagine a different scenario. Let's imagine that those missionaries received that lead that day and didn't follow up on it. Let's imagine that they instead hung out in their apartment that day or at a member's house with the cute daughters who liked when the missionaries dropped by. Would that young mother have accepted the message at a later time in her life? Maybe. I shudder to think what would have happened if those missionaries had not been workers, how their decision to work and be faithful has impacted my life many decades later. I have the gospel because two missionaries I don't know remained focused on the work and started this chain that, although not perfect or without a link missing here or there, continues on into the future ever growing. It must be so disheartening to the adversary to see the impact of the small pebbles that you set rolling down the mountainside now. Understand the impact that these small pebbles can have. You have the gospel today because a missionary worked one day, not knowing that today was the day he had hoped for. The day he would find someone ready to hear his message. If you knew that only one of those families would be impacted for generations like ours has been. Would it be worth all the work of your entire mission? I know your answer. I hope you are prepared for that last door. That last effort in Sikeston. That last effort with this companion. This may be the one that starts the pebble down the mountain, creating the avalanche. Or better yet, releasing the stone that is cut without hands, filling the entire earth.

The Lord continues to reveal wonderful promises to me of our future. He continues to ask me what it is that I want. It is a daunting question to answer. Ammon, who was sent to look for the people of Zeniff in the land of Nephi talks about the ability of Mosiah to interpret the plates of the Jaredites and says that Mosiah had interpreters that only he could look into. For if a man look who is not prepared or called, he would look for that which he ought not and perish. Or look beyond the mark. I feel fear when the Lord asks me what I want. Fear that I will look beyond the mark and ask for that which I ought not and perish. So I am very careful in my answer. To be asked at all is such an honor. So my answer is that I wish for my children to be sealed in the temple, to be exalted, to not lose a single one. I do wish for some things to develop materially so that your mother and I can have security in our later years and serve in the fullest capacity in his kingdom. But those are secondary. I want to have an impact on the lives of those around me. As you now do. What a blessing it is that you have this opportunity at this time. Cherish it! Let nothing stand in your way. See any obstacle for what it is. I love you more than life itself. I miss you so much at times my heart aches. But I take solace in knowing that you can have an impact on generations to come by knocking on that next door. By leaving the apartment one more time. By contacting that person who has blown you off one last time. By showing love to someone who doesn't want it. Be strong. Be of good cheer. Be a force for good and a light in the world for your savior. Be safe. Be happy. I love you.

Dad

The Bread of Life

This is a short talk I gave today on the Bread of Life, our Savior Jesus Christ. I have been thinking of this message for the past several weeks and felt impressed to share it when giving this talk to the elderly at a short Sacrament meeting for them at their rest home today.

The prophet Amos, long ago said , “Behold, the days come, saith the Lord God, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord.”

During the Savior’s Galilean ministry, He chided those who had heard of Him feeding the 5,000 with only five barley loaves and two fishes, and now flocked to Him expecting a free lunch. That food, important as it was, was incidental to the real nourishment He was trying to give them.

“Your fathers did eat manna in the wilderness, and are dead,” He admonished them. “I am the living bread which came down from heaven: if any man eat of this bread, he shall live forever.” But this was not the meal they had come for, and the record says, “From that time many of his disciples went back, and walked no more with him.”

Jesus frankly confronted them with their real concern by declaring, “Ye seek me, not because ye desire to keep my sayings, neither because ye saw the miracles, but because ye did eat of the loaves, and were filled” (JST, John 6:26, footnote a). Like their ancestors in the wilderness of the Exodus, these people were less interested in obeying the commandments than in eating (see Ex. 15:24; Ex. 16:2–3). Jesus Christ was offering “words of eternal life,” and the people were hoping for a handout.

Jesus taught the crowd that they should “labour … for that meat which endureth unto everlasting life, which the Son of man shall give unto you: for him hath God the Father sealed” (John 6:27). They queried, “What shall we do, that we might work the works of God?” (John 6:28). Jesus responded that they should “believe on him whom he hath sent” (John 6:29). They reacted by soliciting a sign (John 6:30). After all, they claimed, Moses gave them “bread from heaven to eat” (John 6:31). Jesus corrected them, asserting that “Moses gave you not that bread from heaven; but my Father giveth you the true bread from heaven” (John 6:32). He then stated His preeminent point: “The bread of God is he which cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world” (John 6:33). In other words, He, Jesus Christ, was the very sign for which they were asking. The manna of Moses’ time was a type of the true bread given of the Father, and that is none other than the Son. In a darkened spiritual state, these people could not or would not understand. To their request for this bread, Jesus unambiguously announced, “I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst” (John 6:35).

“He that believeth on me hath everlasting life” (John 6:47). This was an unexpected and startling proclamation to a group of people committed more to temporal survival and political ends than to everlasting life. Again, the Savior reminded them of their ancient Exodus progenitors, saying, “Your fathers did eat manna in the wilderness, and are dead” (John 6:49). “We come now,” declared Elder Bruce R. McConkie (1915–85) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, “to the crowning teaching of the sermon on the bread of life, which is, that men are saved by eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the Son of God.” 7 Jesus Himself stated: “This is the bread which cometh down from heaven, that a man may eat thereof, and not die. “I am the living bread which came down from heaven: if any man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever” (John 6:50–51).

Elder McConkie also explained that “to eat the flesh and drink the blood of the Son of God is, first, to accept him in the most literal and full sense, with no reservation whatever, as the personal offspring in the flesh of the Eternal Father; and, secondly, it is to keep the commandments of the Son by accepting his gospel, joining his Church, and enduring in obedience and righteousness unto the end. Those who by this course eat his flesh and drink his blood shall have eternal life, meaning exaltation in the highest heaven of the celestial world.”

67 Then said Jesus unto the twelve, Will ye also go away? 68 Then Simon Peter answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life. 69 And we believe and are sure that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God.

The world today is much like these Jews, wanting of the Savior or of God temporal salvation or in other words, the things of this world. Lucifer even offered such things to Christ if he would worship him. This is telling. I think we learn much of Satan's tactics by studying the temptation of Christ. But Christ rebuked Lucifer and said man cannot live on bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth forth out of the mouth of God. The Only bread that will allow us to live is the Bread of Life, our Savior Jesus Christ. If we partake of that bread we will never hunger again. If we drink of his blood we will never thirst again. But that requires us to leave behind our desire for the fake substitutes that Lucifer tries to feed us. It is hard to believe that some of the Children of Israel would not look and live but would rather die because of the easiness of the way and yet I see it today all around me. The way is easy. His burden is light. Look and live, partake and be filled. Yet, some would rather starve and perish because of pride and sin. I can only pray that their days are extended so they can too once more partake.

Creatures of Happiness

I was asked by one of my street team members to write a guest post for her blog on whether we deserve happiness. Here is what I wrote: We are Creatures of Happiness

As a young man growing upon a farm in midwestern Illinois I have so many memories I look back to with fondness. I remember the humid summers, stacking bales in the loft of our barn in the heat as a boy, trying to keep up with the men as they grabbed two bales at once and carried them to the back of the loft to stack them in the ever-rising pile of hay. I could only handle one bale at a time, but I felt like a man doing man’s work, sweating, getting dirty, working up a veracious appetite that would only be satisfied by the spread produced at grandma’s table at lunch and dinner.

I remember too the fall, harvest time when the golden corn swayed in the breeze as the combine cut row after row down, reaping the golden treasure for transport to our grain bins. When I was old enough, I was allowed to drive the tractor that collected the golden corn and transport it in wagons back from the field. Again at 14 I felt like an adult, able to contribute to the welfare of the family as well as any of the other adults in the family. I was needed, even relied on, and that made me happy.

I remember the spring as well, a time of rebirth when nature shrugs off the sheet of ice and cold and begins to blossom again. Spring is a time of hope and renewal, but not in my family. As we hook up the disc and plow the dark, rich soil on our family farm, spring is a reminder of loss. It was in the spring that it happened. I wasn’t alive at the time, but I too felt the effects, everyone who came after did. Her name was Elane, and she was the joy of the family. While her grandpa plowed the field she tried to surprise him by jumping up on the back of the tractor, but she slipped, the discs ran over her young body, crushing her. He heard her cry, but too late. He carried her from the field in his arms, her breathing shallow, her eyes wouldn’t open. They put her in the arms of her mother and sped into town, but less than a mile from the very field where the accident occurred, she breathed her last. Little did Elane know, but when she left that spring day, something more than a little girl died. Happiness itself was taken from them. She left behind a mother and father who forever after struggled to say a nice word to each other. She left behind a brother, (my father) who blamed himself for not watching her more closely, and turned to alcohol and a gruff exterior, never letting anyone in to see the pain he masked. She left behind a sister who could not allow anyone, including two husbands to get too close to her for fear of feeling again the anguish of true loss.

As I watched this family growing up I somehow knew that they were broken. I didn’t know why fully until many years later, but I knew. My father and my mother split up when I was young, but I spent summers on the farm and saw firsthand people I loved going through the motions of life with no hint of happiness. Yet I knew and believe now more than ever that we are creatures of happiness. Let me be clear, not passions, but happiness. Passion is a necessary momentary splash of color in the much larger canvas of life. Happiness is the full palette that coordinates the blues and blacks with the lighter yellows and purples to give us the masterpiece that we all are trying to create, a masterpiece that will last forever. Do we then, deserve happiness?

A father stood in a field with his son, flying a kite aloft. The son cried out to his father, “Let out more string Dad, it wants to go higher!” His father let out more string and the kite took the wind, higher into the sky. After a time the son cried out again, “Let out more string Dad, it wants to go even higher!” So the dad let out the rest of the string, causing the kite to soar into the sky, now no more than a tiny dot high up in the sky. Shortly after, the son yelled out one last time, let it out more Dad!” But the Father answered, “Son, there is no more string to let out.”

“Then let it go, Dad,” the son answered. “The string is holding it back!”

The Dad smiled, knowing what would happen, but seeing an opportunity. He let go of the string, the kite took off for a short time but predictably began to plummet to the earth. As it crashed to the ground the boy turned to his father and said, “I don’t understand.”

His father knelt down and tussled his son’s hair a little as the wind whipped across the field. “You see son, the string wasn’t holding the kite down, it was the resistance of the string the held the kite aloft.”

So what does this have to do with happiness? I believe there are rules, eternal rules that lead us to happiness. Not to pleasure, but to true happiness. These rules do not hold us back, they do not keep us from soaring higher, instead they provide the very grounding that we need in order to attain true happiness in this life and give us perspective to allow us to survive the vicissitudes of this life and the challenges it brings. Those rules are closely tied to my belief in God. It is that belief that gives me perspective when there is loss and hardship and despair. It is that perspective that allows me to smile again, to laugh again, to hope again, to be happy amid the tumult.

As I visit the graves of my grandma and grandpa and the little marker in between them of my aunt Elane, I think of that broken family and wish they had this perspective. I wish I could go back and teach them that they weren’t to blame for that spring day. I wish I could tell them that smiling again isn’t tarnishing her memory, but honoring it.

Good-Byes

This week has been another in a series of good-byes for me personally and as I sat thinking about that on my drive home from Logan Saturday night, it hit me just how foreign that word will be to our celestial existence. For some context let me back-up.

Early Friday morning I said good-bye to Becca as she headed off on her summer mission to Nauvoo to perform in the Nauvoo brass band. What an opportunity for her! I am truly excited she gets this chance to spend an entire summer in that wonderful place walking where the prophet Joseph walked, and helping to share the gospel through music. I truly am grateful that she is able to be there at this time, however as with each of my children who has left my home, it is so tough saying good-bye. She will be back for a very short week in August, and I know for her the time will fly by all too soon, but for me the days will drag. But even when she returns it will only be to prepare for her trip to college this fall at Snow. Again I am excited for her and Laura to begin this new chapter in their lives. I have seen Elizabeth, Ashley and Jessica grow so much as they have left home and stepped out on their own. They were each ready to take that next step, which is all a parent can ask for, yet I so love what we have in this home, the memories the we have made together, the hard times we have endured, the good times, the laughs, the tears. Each of these memories are the fabric of my life. Each of these moments represent the true happiness I have found in mortality. But one by one my children are growing, and leaving. Elizabeth will be in Oregon with her husband as they grow their family there. Ashley is in grad school this fall in Logan, Jessica on her mission in Missouri, Becca at Snow College and Laura in Orem at UVU. I am grateful to be so much closer to get to see them more often, however they will never be under my roof in the same way again. I know this is the plan. I know this is what the Lord intended. This is what Robin and I intended. I would not want them to stay home and be stifled. I want to see each of them grow. But, that doesn't lessen the pain of losing that everyday association. And as I drove that car home in the dark, thinking about all the good-byes I had just said that weekend, I thought about the celestial kingdom and my family gathered around me for eternity with no more good-byes. Never to be parted again. What a blessing that will be! A blessing I will gladly give all that I have, want, desire, to obtain. Hell would be knowing that I could have had that reunion, or even knowing that it was taking place, but knowing that I had made the choice to not be there. There is no need for physical torture or punishment or a literal lake of fire and brimstone, nothing could approach the anguish of separation from family for eternity knowing the simplicity of the way back. I am so grateful for the knowledge of the gospel in my life. I am so grateful for the sealing ordinance. I am so grateful for the promise of no more good-byes, only joyful hello's as we gather in the presence of the father and his son and they receive us with open arms into their presence never to leave again. That is heaven. My family gives me fleeting glimpses of that joy that we will all have someday without measure.

I tried to bear my testimony and broke down several times as I thought about my family members who are now making the choice to miss that family reunion in eternity. I still hold out hope for them. I always will. I don't care what path they take to get there. I just want them there. No one lost. Not one of us on the outside looking in. I know the Lord is a merciful judge and will take into account all that they have been through. But I hope and pray that they will choose to join us in God's presence as a family forever. I don't want to say an eternal good-bye.

Here is Becca at the airport before leaving and our sweet Ashley on her graduation day at USU. We are so proud of her and the example she has set for her younger sisters and brother.

Thoughts from Adam Ondi Ahman

This past week I had the great pleasure to travel across the country with Ashley, Jessica, Rebecca and Laura. It was a lot of fun and a very special time for me. As a father it is pretty rare to get the chance to drive with your kids across the country when they are older. I love each of their amazing personalities and their sense of self. Each of my children are such amazing people already as they grow to take the reins from my generation. Life cycles on and it is sometimes hard not to feel swept away with it. This week was an opportunity to slow it down and just enjoy and I did.

Part of the trip was a route through Missouri to places in church history I had never visited. We started in Independence, Missouri at the site of the new Jerusalem temple. The church has a visitor's center there which we really enjoyed. I had thought that the temple site itself was underneath the Community of Christ temple but it isn't. There isn't anything built on it at the moment. We walked the grounds of the temple, seeing its dimensions and I have to say it seems smaller than I imagined. I had pictured this massive building but although it is bigger than the Salt Lake Temple, it isn't that much bigger. The temple lot is owned by the Church of Christ Temple Lot folks. They were shut down when we arrived so we were a little bummed but we did at least get to see the lot.

After Independence we headed up to Liberty and just made it to see the Liberty Jail and take that tour. It is harrowing to see the small building where Joseph was imprisoned for all those months in the dead of winter. The room itself was so small that Joseph could not stand upright. There was no protection from the outside elements in what was one of the coldest winters on record up to that point. I love the prophet Joseph and felt an even greater closeness to him after witnessing the harrowing circumstances he survived in that little dungeon.

The highlight of the trip though for me was Adam Ondi Ahman. This is a simple valley with a few hills overlooking that had no tours or anything special to see but the spirit that resides there is so special. The Earth does not forget when the Savior has appeared in a place. I firmly believe that. To stand in a spot I knew had held the great meeting of Adam and all of his righteous posterity. A place where Adam had blessed his posterity and prophesied what would befall them down to our day. To know that the Savior had appeared there to comfort him. You literally can feel it. I had goosebumps as the missionaries told me of people who are feeling inspired to move close to the valley and how doors are opening to allow it. The church just built a large stake building to accommodate the increasing numbers. It is a very special place. There it is that the Lord will appear to his righteous saints and will prepare them for his second coming. He will call up the 144,000 and transfigure them, and send them out into the world to gather the remnants of his elect before the day of burning. I looked across that valley and pictured the people filling it. The sounds, the sights as they all looked up to Tower and Spring Hills to the place where the Savior and Adam will speak and all the holy prophets living and dead who will be there to make their report of an accounting of their keys. I got chills as I saw all of this in my mind and the spirit whispered that it was true.

As we pulled away I just thought in my mind that I wanted to do whatever is necessary to be there that day. I would regret for eternity being unworthy to be there and participate in that great gathering. No sacrifice is too great, I want to be surrounded by my family at that meeting, enjoying a brief moment of the fullness of joy that is promised the righteous. I can't wait for this and I am so grateful to be able to visit and know.

Follow Up

Just days after I wrote the post below the world was hit with yet another terror attack. 84 people were killed in Nice, France by a terrorist in a truck. He plowed 3 miles through a crowd, killing 10 children and 74 others in the process. The scenes of bodies lying in the street under blankets was one I don't know if I'll be able to get out of my head. We are so desensitized to this now though. It won't take more than a few days for the world to move on. Nothing will change. Then another attack will occur and the world will express outrage until they forget again. Of course we'll still have politicians trying to take advantage of the horror to push their agendas. But other than that the world will get bored and move on. There is no regard for human life. There is no consolation for the families of the victims. At best somebody will set up a memorial fund and put a few dollars in to make themselves feel better. Although I don't mean to disparage those who donate to or set up these funds, my point is that nothing changes. We as a society grow callouses so these terror acts don't blister our daily lives when they happen. I am as guilty of this as anybody. Unless we are directly affected it's just hard to have this hit home. Unfortunately I believe these acts are simply part of the scenery until the Lord comes again in all his glory. I only expect them to increase in frequency. The rising generation is being taught that human life is not valued. Video games where mostly boys spend literally hours a day killing thousands of digital people, coupled with the utter rejection of God and his commandments, adding in the pornography epidemic and the utter lack of our media and leaders to accept their warped roles all lead to the horror we are now seeing played out on our screens almost nightly. As I mentioned in the post below, we simply ask where and how many and who did it before shaking our heads and maybe saying a small prayer for the victims and their families. The problem is, I don't know what else we can do. How can I affect the larger world around me from my little duplex in St. George? If I live a better life how will that help? I'm not sure we as Latter-Day Saints can change the course the world is on. I believe the bearings are set. The world has chosen its heading and with Lucifer at the helm, the voyage to destruction is sure. I guess the best we can do is to try to get as many people in life vests as possible.

Decent Into Darkness

I wrote this post on Facebook and thought I would also share it here. It has some of the same themes as the last post I wrote but for the most part is new.

By my count there have been 62 mass shootings with 106 dead and 274 injured in just the past 30 days and that is just in the U.S.. There is something broken in our country, in our world and it isn't guns. Never in history has a gun walked itself into a restaurant and opened fire without a person behind it. People have lost their respect for life and humanity. We as a nation are becoming desensitized to it. It's like some morbid sports score now.

"Where was it?" we ask.

"How many dead and wounded?" we ask.

"That is so tragic," we exclaim, unsure of what we can do to change anything in our ever increasingly wicked world.

The feeling of hopelessness and loss of control of our lives pervades. I find myself scoping public places, watching for crazies. I have played out in my head many times what I would do in such a situation. Unfortunately the chances are ever increasing that I will find myself in such a place. Our country is no longer safe. And what does our government do to prevent this growing trend? Fight the other party. Vote themselves raises and exemptions from the very laws they pass. Is there really a choice this election? The only choice we have is more of the same.

Yet government is not the answer. The reason people are increasingly violent is because we as a nation have turned from God's laws. The natural consequence of this is what we see today. Men have become lovers of themselves, without natural affections, striving to do evil. The cure for what ails our country is a return to values that were prevalent just a few short decades ago when we celebrated our victory in a world war and reaped the benefits of an entire generation that grew up not just hearing, but living the words sacrifice, duty and honor. That is what we have lost, and I fear we will never get it back again.