Surprises

One surprise was this subtle, powerful song was the audience favorite at the Pioneer Day concert I attended.

Last Sunday, when I made my trusty plan for the week, I thought my highlight would be a small Primary Presidents’ luncheon for twelve women. It was to be a good, but basic week. But then, invitations came. All week, I have been surprised by the expansion of my plans.

One big change in plans was I was asked to accompany someone in church on the violin, only the music was written for the cello. Richard watched me trying to transpose music by hand and took charge and produced the music I needed using the computer. He intervened quickly, without my asking, and this was so helpful!

Another small surprise was being invited to perform our song at two family gatherings last night after playing the song in church. It was an honor to be invited to these two homes for a few minutes.

Do we know how powerful a home and family feel to someone stepping in? Even though I came from my own cozy evening with family, I felt honored and gifted by the family feeling (the Spirit of the Lord) in each of these homes.

Friends, I am certain that your brand of hospitality and your family, even if it’s one person, have power and goodness. That may be a surprise to you, but I know it is true. Invite someone to your home for lemonade or music or a meal. They will not forget it.

High Adventure 2019

Tim came home from high adventure with MANY beautiful photos of landscapes. He climbs every rock face he sees, so his perspective on hikes is unique. The photo taken high above the camp is typical of him. In the wilderness, you see Timothy as a silhouette against the bright sky as you look up to find him.

Angie in July

Summer is my season of sludge, my own wrestle in quicksand. It’s silly that summer ennui still surprises me. Childhood summers were very different.

I was a child who memorized the quality of every square of cement on our block through the wheels of roller skates. I could eat a whole 3-foot licorice rope while riding home on my bike after a day at the swimming pool with no regrets. I felt accomplished after reading several Nancy Drew mysteries in a day, curled up in my playhouse. I took time to taste nectar from honeysuckle blossoms in the evenings, and spent hours on the backyard swing. I danced on the front lawn. I recall the cool feel of mud pies, molded to satisfaction, and the buzzing of insects in a jar that I collected from the tall grass. I remember the slip of the slime on the river rocks beneath my feet as I waded beneath the bridge. I named my favorite trees in the neighborhood. I had a love for the shiny petals of buttercups and penny candy from the pharmacy. Strawberries grew outside my window, as did grape vines, and I know their scents and the feel of their leaves. I studied the faces in the rock of Y mountain so often that 40 years later, the memory of their features is clear. I sat in the park under ancient sycamores on Sunday evenings to hear a band play.

I think of these times with some longing, especially during the lonely week of scout camp while everyone is away. My “lonely week” is almost over, and my summer memories have kept me company.

I have this letter taped to the inside of my recipe cabinet.

Letter from Elder Daniel Ross, serving in Chile, July 2, 2019

When I was younger I was a pretty picky eater. Broccoli soup was the wrong color, texture, flavor, and I just couldn’t do it. My mom tried serving it with crackers, goldfish, I took small bites with big drinks, hot or cold, it didn’t matter. I was quite sure I wanted nothing to do with it and was firmly set in my ways. Patiently my parents explained that it can take as many as 12 tries to learn to eat a food and that I had to keep trying it. Over the course of several years I did, though I didn’t notice a change for a long time.

Another statistic (I heard this a few years ago, I don’t know how accurate it is now) is that the average person who joins the Church of Jesus Christ through full-time or member missionary efforts has had at least 7 distinct/separate experiences with missionaries. In the winters here in Chile (And everywhere else in the world, I imagine) the work slows down a lot. Very few people answer the door, and rejection is much more common. We’ve been working hard as a companionship to find ways to finish every contact well so that no matter how the person acts, we can walk away at the end and they will remember us as friendly and professional. Sometimes we harvest here, but a lot of the time we’re just planting seeds. We’re continuing in faith, hoping that some of the results come during our time here. 
Does it work? 

(A huge thanks to a nice sister in the ward that learned in a past lunch that I have fond memories of my mom’s soups and had her husband deliver some broccoli soup to us at 10:00 one night. My favorite meal this week.) -Elder Ross

Cousin time

The Sanchez cousins made a
Ship, turtle, dragon,
Tucson temple, crayon,
“A”, church, and a saguaro.
I am pretty proud of their work. It was a lot of prep work for me, but the class went smoothly. When things got tricky with the grout, my sister Susan helped me finish them.
MMSK together again
Richard and Rob worked hard to get the 4-wheelers ready for some rides this weekend. This one was near Tibble Fork.
The Rosses from Austin came so I baked a cake.

A simple, effective activity for Come Follow Me

From churchofjesuschrist.org, Primary Come Follow Me June 24-30

Last week I prepared an activity using a map of Jerusalem with the final events of Christ’s life. We followed the numbers and looked up scriptures from the Old Testament that prophesied of these events or used language echoed by Gospel writers. “Did not our hearts burn by the way, and while he opened to us the scriptures?” (Luke 24:32) The Savior had to re-frame the events his disciples witnessed that last week so they could see him as the Christ. I don’t know what scriptures he shared with them, but perhaps Psalm 22 and Isaiah 53 were among them. Those two chapters rend my heart.

The scriptures we looked up last night according to the numbers on the map:

  1. Zechariah 9:9
  2. Leviticus 14:36
  3. (skipped)
  4. Isaiah 53:4, 6, 10-11
  5. Isaiah 53:7
  6. Psalm 22:6-8
  7. Psalm 22:16-18, Psalm 22:1, Psalm 31:5
  8. Isaiah 53:9

This was one of my favorite activities all year. Simple is still best, and with busy lives, it helps to have a very direct activity instead of a deep discussion sometimes.

Good Days

The definition of a good day expands when I am thankful, and it contracts when I am self-centered. By all measures, narrow and great, I have had some good days this week.

In Spring Lake, I taught a little art class and we made small tile mosaics. I spent time sitting on the porch with my mom and some of my sisters. I walked in the canyon with Richard three evenings this week.

I was a bit starstruck to meet two great historians and authors, Laurel Thatcher Ulrich and Kate Holbrook at a conference. And by “meet,” I mean there a was a conversation about our shirts as we waited for bathroom stalls. Later, “Thank you for your work,” was all I could think to say when I met the Pulitzer Prize winner, but I think that was just right.

What do most of these activities have in common? They were opportunities for me to deal in vast things, such as relationships, possibilities, and nature. They were opportunities to learn from other people. For all the reading and scholarship that I love, there are levels of understanding to be gained only through hearing a person’s voice.