I was sad to hear of the passing of Gail Halvorsen, the Candy Bomber. We attended the same ward in Arizona for a few years. Our children heard him speak about his experiences during the Berlin Airlift many times, and it was nice to see a hero among us. He was always so outgoing and happy. I was looking through some writing from my Arizona years today and found this little detail: one evening I was washing dishes at the church and Brother Halvorsen walked into the kitchen and started drying the silverware. You guys, the Candy Bomber, celebrity and hero, chose to help me with the dishes!
I will remember how Brother Halvorsen showed everyone that small acts of kindness really matter.
One of the sweetest experiences happened recently when I was feeling sorry that I wasn’t better at family history work. I have a goal to work on family history research each Thursday for a certain amount of time, but perfectionism paralysis keeps happening when I search for family names. So, lately I have been indexing records on Family Search to fill my goal quota of time. It feels mostly like a defeat when I turn to indexing instead of working on my own family line. Fear of entering my family names wrong has really been chasing me.
So, I prayed about it, and said I was sorry I wasn’t more brave. I expected some direction from the Lord about how to fix my paralysis, but instead, I felt unreserved love. Also, I felt assured that I am doing family history work that I hadn’t thought to claim. I may need a guide to help me with my Finnish family line, but there is plenty I can do without assistance, and lots of things that I AM doing to help.
“Anytime you do anything that helps anyone—on either side of the veil—take a step toward making covenants with God and receiving their essential baptismal and temple ordinances, you are helping to gather Israel. It is as simple as that.”
Russell M. Nelson, “Hope of Israel,” worldwide devotional for youth, June 3, 2018.
I take a screenshot of each video call with our missionary, but I don’t let on that I am doing it. So, these are regular, unposed expressions. With Daniel, we experienced missionary life without phonecalls and texts, and it was in the last part of his mission that the rules changed, allowing missionaries to contact home via text, a phonecall, or video call once a week.
It probably goes without saying that there is a big difference between the experiences. Our sons haven’t always felt the need to connect with a call each week, but it is nice to know they can. I like to see their faces, and these calls show me how they are really doing. I also see how they interact with companions. This week on our video call, Tim was a passenger in a car, and he showed us what the landscape looked like as they drove home. It helps me place him in my thoughts a little better. I think we hear more details about missionary work during a call because it doesn’t have to be typed and edited. It’s just real. I think it probably helps our missionaries to see that we are still very interested in their lives and can offer personal counsel.
I hope the weekly call doesn’t go away. It was an inspired change.
The school district has scheduled many remote learning Fridays due to Covid, and there isn’t much for Mark to do on these days. Richard and Mark have used the time to ski. I think that in this less than ideal situation, it’s an excellent solution to the dilemma of how to cut down on screen time. They come home good pals, and then we get takeout for dinner. Good times.
I have a few friends with whom I meet to sew, usually around once a month. As we sew quilts or other individual projects, we explore vast conversations on many topics. These are some of the fastest hours of the month for me. I don’t often sew outside of these tiny gatherings, but I have made progress on several projects and learned from the wisdom of women I truly admire. This week I finished a quilt I began sometime last year. It’s ready to take on a picnic…once the ground thaws.
I subscribe to Yo-Yo Ma’s YouTube channel. He has been consistent about posting songs of comfort through the past few years, often from very casual home settings. I am thankful that he has shared his gifts so freely. If you watch until the end, I think you will see the character of the man.
Did you see a lot of friends fall ill? I did. I also bought a lot more masks. I keep hoping each time I buy another box that *this* will be the last. In January, I went ahead and bought 3 boxes.
In contrast, if you are local, did you notice how sunny it was in January? Gorgeous!
We have been watching Masterpiece’s All Creatures Great and Small. I love Mrs. Hall and the sets. Now, THIS is a jewel box house. Every scene, I am hoping the actors will move around more so I can get a better look at the props and furniture.
I didn’t do a lot of organizing like many people in January, but I deep cleaned some rooms, and I got all the pine needles vacuumed from the carpet downstairs before we turned the calendar to February.
I read 7 books on cold evenings, every inch of me below the chin wrapped in blankets. No, I did not use my nose to advance pages on the Kindle to avoid exposing my fingers. But it’s worth considering.
A neighbor in our cul-de-sac just put their house on the market. It is a competitive housing market, so our street has been lined with cars. I learned the house behind us was sold to somebody who plans to turn it into an Airbnb. Boo! Still, I’m thrilled that there will be NO [mean] DOGS living there.
I have a new secretary, and she will be wonderful, as was my previous secretary.
Tim is serving in Maple Ridge, BC with two elders from Canada. One was assigned to Italy, and Tim of course was originally assigned to Guam, but they are “all in.” This is considered a temporary reassignment, and I am still not quite set in my mind that he is in Canada. I’m slow like that. I’m aware it doesn’t matter what I think, but it matters that he is smiling and happy, though. And he is.
In this assortment, you will find things that I would like to remember about this week. Wouldn’t it be sad to forget *that* sunset? Or that Mark came home excited about the progress he made on his woods project… And that I worked on a quilt and found a few happy surprises… Wouldn’t it be unfortunate to forget these happy little things?
I know if you read these posts, you have seen that I have slowly become more intentional about gratitude. In 2021, I decided to graduate from a haphazard weekly gratitude list to a daily journal. My friend Janine shared this profound quote about gratitude,
…rather than make a list of things, don’t forget to thank God. Gratitude to God — and an indebtedness to Him — is far more meaningful and impactful than simply gratitude alone. In other words, counting your blessings without recognizing their source will not give you true happiness… It’s not about showing off what one has or counting things. It’s about recognizing the source and paying it forward.
I don’t know how to say it without it sounding cliché, but those minutes of writing down God’s tender mercies are the best minutes of my day. I usually write things down from the previous day when I am alone in the morning. The routine simplicity of this doesn’t make it any less profound. With my little lists, I am learning to see God’s work in my life, and I look forward to it each morning. Sometimes I am surprised by the delight.
When thou risest in the morning let thy heart be full of thanks unto God.
I taught a singing lesson in Primary today. There were only 18 kids there, between the ages of 3 and 10, and I taught them the song, I Know My Father Lives. The lyrics are a simple group of statements about our Heavenly Father and the Spirit:
“I know my Father Lives, and loves me too, the Spirit whispers this to me and tells me it is true, and tells me it is true.”
I brought an empty picture frame and carried it around the room, holding it in front of each child’s face, and repeating, “You are a child of God and He loves you.” The children would sit up a little straighter as I brought the frame in front of their faces. The older boys shifted a little, feeling the power of the statements and some discomfort from the attention, and wishing to diffuse some of that feeling. Younger children were the most capable of bearing those words without a wobble. As I spoke and looked into each face, it was a sacred experience. When I walked back to the front of the room, several of the kids said, what about you? Aren’t you going to say it for yourself? So, I said it for myself, “I am a child of God and He loves me.” Ah, belonging! You can’t have it without some vulnerability.
Elder Cook wrote, “When we shine, we gather.” Sometimes it takes courage to shine, to carry around that frame, look someone in the eyes, and remind them they are a child of God and He loves them so much. “To gather” can bring to mind the idea of a hug, or any gesture that reminds people that they belong.
(I am adding the themes that our youth learn as teens. I love the doctrine that we are children of heavenly parents.)
