An Especially Meaningful Memorial Day

In May 1865, after the major Confederate armies had surrendered, Sherman wrote in a personal letter: “i confess, without shame, I am sick and tired of fighting—its glory is all moonshine; even success the most brilliant is over dead and mangled bodies, with the anguish and lamentations of distant families, appealing to me for sons, husbands and fathers ... tis only those who have never heard a shot, never heard the shriek and groans of the wounded and lacerated ... that cry aloud for more blood, more vengeance, more desolation.” It’s good to know Sherman, one of the most brutal of commanders, was tired of war. I’m tired of war too, and I’ve never waged one. Not against flesh and blood, anyway. But for the first time ever, I was able this year to picture, in a small way, something of what it must have been like to be out on the battlefield for the soldiers in the Civil War. Just realizing in the past few days that I have 3 great great grandfathers who fought in that war, brought it to life for me.
 

Dan and I went to a Memorial Day service put on by a Civil War reenactment group in the Morris Hill cemetery. That’s where Jordan is buried, and where we will be interred someday, alongside him. We arrived for the event freshly showered and shampooed, dressed in clean, comfortable clothing. I thought of how sweaty, and grimy, and hot, or cold, and hungry, and frightened the soldiers were as they marched and camped, marched and camped, day after day, sometimes for months on end! Three times yesterday, the crowd watched and heard the soldiers load, then fire their guns in a three gun salute. They had to reload after each shot, which took a surprisingly long time. They would have been defenseless during the time they spent reloading those one-shot muzzle loaders. There were 12 to 15 men who fired their weapons yesterday, and it was plenty loud. We commented on how overwhelming the din would have been with thousands of soldiers firing their weapons, of the smoke that would have hung over the battlefield, and of the resulting screams of pain that would inevitably have followed. I thought of my three grandfather soldiers, who were far from grandfathers at the time, as I read the following: In the four years of war (1861-1865), over six million men joined the fight, and more than half a million never made it home. Historian Shelby Foote wrote, that for every two men who marched up Pennsylvania Avenue in the Grand Review, the ghost of a third marched with them. In a letter home, spectator Ellen Hooper said "It was a sad day too--you felt as if there were another army--larger and finer--marching above them." Two of my ancestor-soldiers, James Henry Smith and John Chason made it home safely after the war. Young John Sims, however, did not. He was killed in the Battle of Gaines’ Mill, in Hanover, Virginia, on June 27, 1862. His wife, Priscilla, was left to raise their son, John Samuel Sims, born in 1861, without him. No longer oblivious to their sacrifices, I am willing to make some of my own, in an effort to greet them in the future on an equal footing. Thank you, to all my loved ones who have gone on before. I hope to honor you in a special way, by seeing that your temple ordinances are complete. I’m also grateful to the Baird family for sharing their annual Memorial Day gathering with Shane. Their example inspires us to build more meaning into this day as well.

Another Family Trip!

Families can, they really can, be together forever.  It will take a lot of faith, and love, and work, but I know it can be so!  This is especially meaningful, because it was five years ago today that our beloved Jordan died.  My constant hope and prayer is that our whole family will learn to love and value each other, according to Heavenly Father’s great plan of happiness, both here and hereafter.  There is a lot of work to do toward that end, but it can be done. 

For example, a very nice chunk of it was done last weekend.   Dan and I were invited to Denver for the baptism of our granddaughter Julianna!   

Tori played the piano while we sang the opening song, I Am a Child of God, and for the closing song Juli sang When I Am Baptized, accompanied by Katey on the harp.

Feasting on Jan’s baptism treats

Greg and Shauna

Neil and Penny’s twins, McKay and McKenna

Then both sides of the family went to an Italian buffet called Cinzetti’s for a fabulous lunch.  Highly recommended.  Their cinnamon gelato stole my heart, which is always up for grabs when it comes to desserts. 

Uncle Neil and Aunt Penny after a couple of 8-year-olds finished with his hair!

My my, McKay, what big feet you have.

Six of our little twinkling stars: Levi, 5; Christian, 6; Julianna, 8; Josalyn, 8: Katey, 13

We missed Alyssa and wish she had been there too.  Grandpa Dan made a baptism game for me to use in my Primary class, so we brought it along and had fun sitting around the kitchen table playing it with the children.  They play well, and they work well.  We observed Christian and Levi unloading the dishwasher, and another time they were setting the table.  While Shauna made a couple of apple pies before church, the girls were washing and wrapping potatoes to bake.  They also took turns clearing the table, and loading the dishwasher.  Grandpa Dan and I got a kick out of seeing them happily, busily, in action.   

What an altogether great trip we had!  We read two good books while we drove, “Same Kind of Different As Me” by Ron Hall and Denver Moore, and “COMETS – Creators and Destroyers” by David H. Levy.  Also highly recommended.  Ha, it gave us something to do while we were sitting in a repair shop trying to solve the mystery of our overheating Subaru.  We’ve since learned this is a common problem with Subarus, and it often stymies the best of mechanics.  We’re so thankful our prayers for safe travel were affirmatively answered, and that we spent the weekend in “a Christ-centered home where the gospel is taught, covenants are kept, and love abounds.”  Elder Richard G. Scott 

In the Pink

Some may say our familly has no family traditions, but this is untrue.  Our long-standing tradition is to try something new on every holiday, every year.  For example, this past Valentine’s Day, I surprised Dan with pink hair.  Ever frugal, I used part of my old bunny costume from a couple of years ago to add to the pinkness.  For Easter this year, we did what we love to do, we visited family, this time in WA state.  We checked into Best Western on Saturday afternoon at about 4, then we went over to Ethan and Missy’s for a fantastic homemade Mexican fiesta for the family, then on to the church for our dear little Easter Lilly’s night before Easter baptism!  It was beautiful, as expected.  Such a strong feeling of love and faith and unity was there.

We were lucky enough to get a few pictures the next morning.  After church, where we met old friends and heard powerful testimonies of the Savior, Ethan’s family went to lunch and an Easter egg hunt with Missy’s brother’s family, and Dan and I had a new first, Easter dinner compliments of Burger King.  We visited Dan’s sisters, Janet and Iris, and their families later in the afternoon, then spent a couple more hours with Ethan’s crew that evening.  Holidays, anydays, (well maybe not tax days) we know how to go with the flow.  (Dan’s feeling a little stress because this is the first year we actually owe taxes. Me, I’m concerned because his job may be ending as early as next February!)

On Monday morning, we had the great delight of bringing Brooklyn and Lilly home to spend a few days with us for spring break!  They kept us laughing almost the whole time.  Brooklyn read a long chapter of “Which Witch” by Eva Ibbotson to me, and then she went on to finish the book herself when I found I could get it from my library.  My friend and emergency babysitter, Cindy, first took the girls to her son’s Frisbee game, and then to the library the next day because I had a couple of unexpected clinic visits, and they each chose another book to check out.  We also read “Little House in the Big Woods” and “Meet Kaya: An American Girl” together.  Even that wasn’t enough reading for these smart little girls.  They made up a very clever game using some of Jack Prelutsky’s hilarious poetry books and a couple of scooters.  We called it the reading and riding game.  On the back patio, they’d place an open book on a picnic bench.   Brooklyn would ride over to it, read two lines of a poem and ride away.  Then Lilly would do the same.  They read at least 3 of his books over the course of several days this way!  Who knew poetry could be so fun.

These young ones can entertain themselves for hours by playing with balloons.  But Grandpa expanded their horizons by buying water balloons, so they could bomb Colin and Macey when they came for dinner and a little kite-flying.  Brooklyn was very eager to take the leftover balloons home to bomb her Papa, just to remind him of the water balloon battles he and his brothers used to have.  Another time, Dan showed them the way to the neighborhood park, and the next afternoon we packed up a bag of books and snacks and ventured forth on our own.  We also took in a movie about cave people called The Croods. The funniest part of it for me was when I fell asleep, and dreamed someone was trying to harm my young child.  In my dream I was trying to shout, “Leave him alone!  Leave him alone!!  But I couldn’t speak.  I could only make unintelligible, guttural sounds.  Sort of like cavetalk?  When I woke up, I couldn’t stop laughing at myself because I’d been making those sounds aloud during the movie!  We also laughed over some of Miss Lilly’s wardrobe choices.  She took a liking to my pink jacket (seen above) and a pair of cowboy boots that used to belong to Kimball, I think.  They are very, very big on her little feet.  Unknown to me, that’s what she was wearing when Cindy took them to Tyler’s double-header frisbee games.  I heard her clunking around in the boots when they got home, and temporarily broke her heart the next day when I wouldn’t let her wear them to the library.  Only around the house, I soothed.  Brooklyn took a liking to them as well, and they shared them quite amicably.  Lilly was excited about her brand-new scriptures, and she reminded us to read them almost every day.  I wish I could have helped her learn her way around in them, where to find things.  She was a little touchy when Brooklyn tried to help her.  With them, I’d choose just a few verses at a time to read.  One night it was just 1 verse, 1^st Nephi 1:1.  We read it several times and talked about it.  Wish I’d done it that way when my boys were small.  We usually read a whole chapter, which may have been too much at the time.  I’m crossing my fingers that the girls want to, and get to, come again sometime.  They filled the whole place with bushels of sunlight, and laughter, and love.

P.S.  My unexpected clinic visits turned up a streptococcus pneumonia infection in my bloodstream.  Seven days of an IV antibiotic, Rocephin, has, we hope, cleared it up, and all is well now.  I am back, as they say, in the pink.       

Tenth Trip to the NIH, +

March’s NIH lab results have gone missing, but they show that after 9 months on Ibrutinib, I’ve had a complete response to the drug in the blood.  All counts normal!  Bone marrow and lymph nodes, not so much.  But they are definitely improving, and in time, they may get there too.  I had a core needle biopsy of one of the lower right axillary nodes, and was instructed to stop taking Ibrutinib for a week, three days before and three days after the biopsy.  It was disconcerting to feel how quickly the nodes began to enlarge and to downright hurt before the week was up.  Relief came almost immediately once I got the go-ahead to start my favorite med again though.  Looks like Ibrutinib and I might be partners for life.

I appreciate my sister Julie driving up on Sunday from SLC to travel with me.  We had some shopping fun here on Monday before flying out on Tuesday the 12^th.   We greatly enjoyed visiting with NIH friends, Lynn and Loren and Nancy and Gene in clinic, while we all waited to be called back for our consultations.  One received good news (treatment may not be needed for a very long time), one received bad news (she has to leave the trial for the second time due to another serious health problem), and as stated above, my results were good.  We waited and waited for almost 2 hours in the pharmacy to pick up my three-month supply of Ibrutinib, finally deciding to come back in the morning after the biopsy for them.  The shuttle schedule makes it necessary to be a little assertive sometimes.  Miss it and you could miss your flight, or you could be walking to dinner in an unfamiliar city in the dark.  The radiologist wrote in her orders that I was to be observed in the day hospital for 2 hours after the biopsy, but that would have made me miss the free NIH airport shuttle, having then to pay around $100 for a taxi.  No thanks.  The nurse made the necessary phone calls to secure the change in orders I needed.  But while they were pending, my pesky blood pressure started creeping up, jeopardizing my release.  I made myself think calm thoughts, and breathe slowly, deeply. Worked like a charm, it went back down to normal. Just in the nick of time I was free to leave! 

Julie and I flew from the Dulles airport to Orlando.  We were off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizards of Hogwarts!  Actually, it was our sister Jami and her family we went to visit for a few days, but Harry Potter’s hangout was on the list too.  So were the beach and the Orlando temple.  And we did it all, although the beach got short shrift with only a token 15-minute visit.  Guess this means we’ll have to make a return visit later on.  Jamie’s daughter Sarah accompanied us on our trip to Universal, and she’s a lot of fun.  She took being with three grandmas well in stride. 

Dan surprised me with a new microwave to replace our aging one while I was away, and helped me send out the Easter packages to the grandchildren when I got back.  Thanks to the love and consideration of many people, this trip was another success.                  

Choices and Voices, Part 1

It’s much easier to write about events, activities, hobbies, and accomplishments on a public blog than to share the things of the spirit.  The show-and-tell posts can teach and inspire readers to make great crafts and recipes, to sew, quilt, paint, decorate,, take professional-looking photos, and any number of other wonderful skills.  Writing about the things of the spirit feels like a little more of a risk to me.  But here goes anyway.

I guess I’ve travelled about 40 thousand miles this past year starting with one roundtrip to AZ, 9 to Washington DC, 2 to Utah, and 1 to Denver.  Forget about sky miles, it’s the blessings I’ve accrued that bring me to my knees in humility and gratitude.  I know I’m not the epitome of health, but I am undeniably stronger and healthier than I was when my travels began.  That’s physically healthier.  Even more marvelous to me is that I have also experienced an increase in spiritual nourishment and growth.  It feels like a miracle.  My heart wants to sing it out loud, but my spirit is telling me to keep my words simple and quiet, and to leave out all the exclamation marks I’d like to use..  Funny spirit.

 

I think I will be able to share more later.  But for now, I want to post the writings of someone else.   I am currently reading this amazing book, “Following the Light of Christ into His Presence” by John M. Pontius.  It is answering so many questions I’ve wondered about.  – How to be confident in my decisions; how to understand the actions of others; how to leave the plateau and make real and sustained progress... I borrowed the book on tape from the library, but some other kind person, C. Erickson, typed up the excerpt below in his Amazon review, and I believe it is life-changing!  Uh, I mean life-changing.   

Choices and Voices, Part 2

Excerpt from:  Following the Light of Christ into His Presence, by John Pontius (pages
36-40)
The Voices
It is one thing to say we must follow the voice of our conscience, which is the voice
of the Lord within us. It is quite another to be able to clearly distinguish it from
the other voices we hear. Toward that end, let us cast some light upon the other
voices. Elder James E. Faust had this to say about the voices we hear:
"But we hear other voices. Paul said, 'There are... so many kinds of voices in the
world...' (1 Cor. 14:10) that compete with the voice of the Spirit. Such is the situation
in the world." (Faust, "Voice of the Spirit," 7; ellipses in original.)
There are three main sources of voices in a healthy mind. The first is the voice
of your own mind. You hear yourself think. You talk with yourself, discuss things
with yourself, argue with yourself, berate, praise, and jabber with yourself all
day long. This voice is distinguishable because it is unsure, or in other words,
it questions things, and is seldom definite or decisive. It almost always asks questions.
"What was that? Who said that? Why did you say that? What does it mean? Do you suppose?
What would happen if? I wonder?" Even when it is emphatic, it leaves open the possibility
of change. "I'm definitely going to bed now--Okay?" "I'm going to town--if the car
will start." You will notice that this voice usually takes the personal case; "I
think I should fast today." The Holy Spirit would have said, "Fast today."
The second voice comes from Satan's realm. It is unlikely that we receive much attention
from the king of that kingdom personally. Rather, we deal with his minions, his messengers,
and tempters. These beings have been in the business of tempting mankind as long
as the earth has existed, perhaps longer. They are undoubtedly very skilled and highly
motivated. Each have probably tempted thousands of people like ourselves. They have
spent thousands of years of intimate contact with mortals. They have much more experience
with tempting mortals to sin than we could possibly have in resisting it. They know
the subtleties and tricks necessary to entice and trick us into failing. They undoubtedly
specialize in their work, meaning that certain of them specialize in anger, marital
infidelity, family disharmony, murder, drugs, illness, depression, hate, or a million
other maladies, sins, and vices. Once successful, they linger year after year with
those they afflict.
When we hear a voice from this source, it will be cleverly disguised and enticing.
It will appeal to the natural, carnal, sensual, and devilish side of us. There is
real intelligence in the message, and malice aforethought. They plan and plot against
us, and their messages are carefully chosen.
"The adversary tries to smother this voice [of the Holy Spirit] with a multitude
of loud, persistent, persuasive, and appealing voices: murmuring voices, conjuring
up perceived injustices; whining voices, abhorring challenge and work; seductive
voices, offering sensual enticements; soothing voices, lulling us into carnal security;
intellectual voices, professing sophistication and superiority; proud voices, relying
on the arm of the flesh; flattering voices, puffing us up with pride; cynical voices,
destroying hope; entertaining voices, promoting pleasure seeking; commercial voices,
tempting us to 'spend money for that which is of no worth' and our 'labor for that
which cannot satisfy...' (2 Nephi 9:51), and delirious voices, spawning the desire
for a 'high'... [which is] death-defying experiences for nothing more than a thrill."
(Faust, "Voice of the Spirit," 7.)
A prompting from this source will nearly always be stated as an absolute. "Don't
let him get away with that. I'm too tired to pray. You deserve better. Pay him back.
No one will notice. It should be yours anyway--just take it. She's your wife--not
your mother. Football only happens once a year, the church can get along without
you for one Sunday. She wants you--it's only natural. He loves you more than your
husband, how can you not love him back?"
These promptings will always lead us away from the truth. They prompt us to disobey,
not to pray, to abandon church assignments and family responsibilities, to commit
sin and walk in forbidden paths. They do not limit themselves to voices alone. They
can draw from the trash stores in our minds to dredge up memories which will either
lure us away from purity and virtue, or keep our minds harrowed up with vivid memories
of our sins--even after we have repented of them.
The evil ones cannot read our minds or hear our silent prayers. It seems they hear
what the Holy Spirit says to us, for they respond immediately. When the Holy Spirit
prompts, "Say your prayer," you immediately hear, "Don't say prayers, you're too
tired."
"Yea, I tell thee, that thou mayest know that there is none else save God that knowest
thy thoughts and the intents of thy heart." (D&C 6:16.)
They cannot force us to do anything, unless we yield to them, and value our inability
to see them. They can tell when a temptation excites or repels us. They are most
successful in half-light, half-truths, and half-hearted people. Their tools are limited,
but they use what they have with great effect. They have destroyed millions of souls,
and you are simply the next on their list. They are confident, efficient, successful,
and they hate us with unimaginable intensity. From their perspective, they are engaged
in an all-out war against us. Our perspective barely includes a realization they
exist, and certainly no thought of an all-out war against us. It is no wonder they
win so frequently. Yielding to the enticings of Satan's minions will have the opposite
effect of yielding to the enticings of the Holy Spirit. Any time we receive a prompting
to do wrong, or disobey, it comes from Satan's realm.
One of their weaknesses is that they can rarely voice just one lie. While the Holy
Spirit generally prompts us only once, the tempters often voice many objections to
each prompting. The Holy Spirit may prompt us to call everyone to family prayers.
Thereafter, the evil ones suggest many reasons why we should not obey. "Everyone
is tired. They will complain. You don't feel like it. The wife is already in bed.
It's late. It's useless. You can do it tomorrow." This is actually one of the ways
we may discern the voices. The Holy Spirit whispers truth, and thereafter, the opposition
tirades against it.
The third source of information in our minds is the voice of the Lord through the
Holy Spirit. It begins as the conscience, the light of Christ, and is a free gift.
In its most rudimentary stages it is a quiet urging to choose right, to abandon wrong
choices, and to seek greater truth. This voice grows in content and quality as one
heeds it direction until it becomes a significant guide, and measure of truth. Following
baptism and the bestowal of the gift of the Holy Ghost, the Holy Spirit assumes greater
power and authority, and though remaining still a still small voice it becomes a
comfort, guide, and source of great strength as we learn to obey it.
This voice always entices to do good, to believe, serve, pray, and repent. It nearly
always prompts contrary to where you were headed. If you were lying under the car
Sunday morning, it would tell you to go to church. If you were already on your way
to church, it would prompt nothing, but would give a feeling of comfort and satisfaction.
The voice of the conscience is easy to recognize, because it is the only one of the
three which prompts to do good. These promptings come as absolute statements. The
Holy Spirit would say, "Fast today." Your mind would have said, "I wonder if I should
fast today," or "Perhaps I should fast." Any time you have a prompting to do good,
it has come from God.
We have been talking a lot about promptings. Perhaps even the term needs clarification.
A prompting is information which originates outside one's mind. The Holy Spirit prompts
to do good, the devil prompts to do evil. Our minds consider and analyze the promptings,
and make decisions concerning them. These promptings all appear, and sound, exactly
like our own thoughts. The only way to differentiate between them is the way we have
already discussed. Good comes from God. Evil comes from the adversary. Questions
and analysis come from within. It really is just that simple.

Of One Heart

 

What a wonderful family is the family of Lonnie and Julie Baird.  Such unity, strength,, kindness, and love have impressed me deeply..  Two weeks ago, Lonnie passed through the veil into immortality.  Families are of God, and they are meant to be together forever.  I believe it, I feel it, I know it to be true!  Nurturing these special, potentially eternal relationships take a lot of work, but you make it look easier than it is, and mostly fun, too! I love and appreciate each of you.  Especially you, Miss Julie B.  You have a heart like no other.  May the Comforter assist in putting it back together again.