greaterthansparrows

I found this while looking up an article for my lesson this week.  When I see 'Poetry' in the table of contents I always stop and take a peek.  I still remember a line that pierced me from a poem in I-don't-know-which-Ensign many years ago, and someday I might find it again.  This one appealed to me, and since I just published a column which likened music to learning how to listen to the Lord, I thought it was fitting.  Since my daughter Emily played the trumpet, and was honored to play "Taps" at the graveside of a woman who meant a great deal to our family, this had echoes in my memory. Encore By Shirley Howard Shirley Howard, “Encore,” Ensign , Apr. 1978, p.19 On the first warm morning he played his cornet for the valley to hear, and people pausing in their milking or the feeding of children knew summer had come. He played on special days when hay was thick in the fields, a good rain had fallen, and sometimes for no reason at a...

How do I outline my life for strangers? Not just the issue of an image, taking and choosing a picture , but I had to draw up a short bio.  I found myself trying out sentences and choices in my head when I needed to go to sleep, or when I was not home to do anything about it, and generally deciding that there was time aplenty, so turn off the worry and take care of other things. Then I had notice of a deadline as I was getting ready to go away, due three days after my return.  Oh oh, have to actually figure this out now.  An introduction to the newspaper people (second half of this post) is a different thing: dear editors, this is why I would be interesting or this what I bring to the table.  Instead I was tasked with a self-synopsis which would be up and sitting every time a person clicked on my column.  Short, sweet, to the point (we hope). I have had a pretty cool life in many respects.  I had an amazing upbringing, experiencing travel, exposure to...

Year before last, I was asked to speak on Memorial Day weekend on the subject of "remembrance."  The story of my best friend  Barbara   was what came to me and stayed.  Memorial Day was her last day on this earth, and the work that we did for her was an act of remembrance. Our visionary bishop had announced that the ward should provide family names, using no temple names at all,  for the upcoming youth temple trip.  The goal he set before us was 500 names, and we had three months.  He called a family history specialist to provide all members of the ward with assistance as needed, and the members were stunned but got to work.  The target date was mid-May. Barbara had done some genealogy and felt it crucial to have the work completed before, as she put it, she came face to face with her family members who would say, you knew who I was--why didn't you get my work done?  She was not well enough to go to the temple, but she prepared the work a...

Many in the 'traditional' Christian world believe that we have no existence before this life, or if pressed--even though their theology does not state it--that we are somehow fashioned as waiting personalities just in time to be brought into this life; but our understanding of the pre-mortal existence is unique.  (Truman Madsen once pointed out that there is no such thing as "pre"-existence, since we have always existed.  By our restored knowledge, you can't go back to a time or point where we didn't exist as spirits or intelligences; we just didn't exist yet on earth, we weren't mortals.  So I have tried to refer to the "pre-mortal" existence instead, ever since.) So there we are, according to this set of assumptions, brought into never-before existence as human beings, to slog through the trials of this life, and if we are so privileged as to be taught about Christ and redemption (otherwise we are lost), we overcome the limitations of thi...

I picked a hymn to start class with today that I thought was really easy, I didn't have time to think too hard about it, there were other crises.  It was "How Firm a Foundation," and everyone knows it. I knew that the usual, very talented sister who plays for us would be gone, so I figured this hymn would be an easy one for the Relief Society president who plays in a pinch.  In a real pinch, I knew that, rusty as I am, I could play because I used to know this one cold. Well, the president went towards the piano to play, and said, "You said this was easy?  It has four flats!"  So I ended up playing, with lots of mistakes (no preparation). The mistakes diminished in frequency as I kept going, because I remembered better.  I wanted that couple of minutes of singing to gather myself in readiness to stand up and teach the class, but that's all right . I shouldn't have opened the big, looseleaf hymnbook instead of the standard size, even though it lies flat ...

Before I left for Utah, the cherry blossom trees were finally blooming.  It always seems like they're late, but I think that's just in comparison to the seasons in Washington, D.C. where I grew up. Fourteen years ago, the city had a huge tree-planting program in several of the neighborhoods.  We received a notice in the mail telling us that our block was included in this effort, and listing the ten or so varieties of trees which were being planted.  Steps in the prep process, schedule, phone number for questions.  You could choose to opt out--every address would get one tree, if you lived on a corner you would get one tree on each face of your property.  (This assumed that there was not already a tree or other impediment on your property in the spot--after they marked where the pipes ran--where they would dig you a hole and come a few days later and plop a tree in.) I called and asked if we could choose what type of tree we would get.  The answer was ...

The Lord said, "my sheep know my voice."  As our Good Shepherd, he calls us to follow, he leads us to every blessing and promises us that we will overcome all things. "I will rise, when he calls my name--no more sorrow, no more pain...I will rise on eagle wings before my God, fall on my knees, and rise..." Another line flies into my heart:  "My faith will be my eyes."  I add that music will be my voice, and this song speaks not just to me but for me.  I hope it will speak to and for you, as well. Make a quiet space, listen, and see.  (Alex Boye performing) I Will Rise .

Doctrine & Covenants 88    This revelation Joseph termed "the Olive Leaf, which we have plucked from the tree of Paradise, the Lord's message of peace to us" given for the consolation of the Saints, and it contains visions of truth, layers of meanings, that are offered nowhere else.  It is an offering of comprehension beyond this world, and we can only absorb it in stages; as I have gained experience in life and in the Spirit it speaks to me more clearly, yet it has always sparked awe, and still does, in the sense of marvels still beyond reach. It is not the first revelation given with great import in the admonition to gather a worthy, prepared group of priesthood holders in the spirit of fasting and prayer.  The message? I the Lord have something to give you which is so important that you must come before me in total faith and humility, and unite the power of joint prayer and seeking, opening yourselves to take it all in.  This is not some quick fly-by, ...

Having a picture taken for this new venture was an experience.  It made it harder for me to cling to my own self-visualization.  I will find my way back to denial, at least in part, I'm sure. If you've ever had your voice recorded, and listen to it, the first reaction is, 'that's me?  that's how I sound?'  As all around you nod immediately, you try to wrap your mind around the disconnect.  For the auditory strangeness, there's a scientific explanation:  you hear yourself through the resonance in your own head, others hear you through the air.  I still hear my voice on our voice-mail message and only think it's me because I know it has to be, I recorded it.  I hear my tone and pitch differently.  Singing is a little better--and recorded much less often, so I rarely have to deal with it. When a camera gets you, the only real reason for not recognizing yourself is illusion.  It was very good of my son-in-law to do this for me, since the...

Poor, neglected blog--I actually got home on Tuesday, and this is now Saturday.  On Tuesday, I was home about 20 minutes, and went to take a nap.  I fell asleep hard, and woke in time to fix dinner.  I had a lesson to give the next morning, and told myself I would write that afternoon, after it was done.  Weeelll....didn't. I have the opportunity to be part of a new venture titled the Nauvoo Times, an LDS online journal which will launch on Monday, May 14.  Everything had to be in the managing editor's inbox (herself out of town until today) by the end of yesterday.  I had the pieces written--though one of them was clear with me that it had to jump ahead in the lineup--to cover the requirement plus the next couple of dates, but it was still crunch time.  Maybe lurch time is a better description.  With the blog, I can pull and amend something if I need, and with this, once it goes out from me, it's set in stone.  A whole different audience w...

I brought a recipe from home, and since I am otherwise occupied, I will put this up in lieu of pondering the universe today. I demonstrated this for Relief Society once, and commented that you want to use good orange juice and good carrots for the best taste.  One of the younger sisters asked how you knew you had good carrots--the answer is that you sniff the ends, an d if they  don't smell sweet, they won't taste like much. Hubby thinks I'm nuts, but I like the leftovers chilled just as much as I like the soup hot. CREAM OF CARROT SOUP 1 medium onion, chopped 1 lb carrots, pared and sliced (about 3 ½ up to 4 cups) 3 Tbl. butter 2 cups water 1 tsp. salt 1/8 tsp. pepper Dash of cloves 1 tsp. orange peel ¾ cups orange juice ½ cup sour cream, light is fine Sauté onions and carrots in butter for 5 minutes.  Add water, salt, pepper.  Bring to boil. Lower heat, cover, and simmer for 25 minutes or until carrots are tender. Lift carrots and onions out with slotted sp...