...and then I remembered

I have to be honest. Staying off Facebook has not been easy. The other night I was tempted to break the social media fast. I'm missing out on the high school reunion excitement (even though I'm not going, it is exciting) and I'm missing out on the funny pictures I find and the interaction with family and friends.

Then I heard something on the radio and was reminded of some of the reasons I did this. One, I want to be obedient where I can. Two, I got tired of the ugliness.

It doesn't matter what I heard, what's important is that I remembered.

Answer to Prayer?

For some time, I've noticed that I've been extremely disillusioned with what social media has devolved into. It would make me sad to see people I truly care about post hateful things publicly and then quietly say "you know I don't mean you."

So, what I understand is that you're condemning all who believe like me, but not me?

Ok, perhaps, but imagine how you'd feel knowing you were considered collateral damage. Are you not supposed to hurt because someone mocked what you believed but not you?

Anyway, it's been getting worse and worse and I really wanted to just pull the plug once and for all. But then there's the High School reunion coming up, and family updates, and church updates, and, and, and.

I've been troubled for a while over this and earlier last week, I thought to myself "maybe a social media fast IS a good idea."

I'm no Prophet, but I know someone who is. During the #GeneralConference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints this past weekend, we had a meeting for all the women age 8 and up. During that meeting, Pres. Russell M Nelson encouraged the sisters to take a 10 day social media fast and record their feelings during that time.

Obviously, I'm not alone in my concerns, and I have already come up with many ideas to clean it up. It was almost as if...oh who am I kidding! It WAS an answer to prayer.

I know I'll be back in a few days. It's not forever, but it is a much needed break.

Politics of personal...

When I was a young adult, my mother or others would say something about me being in a bad mood when I obviously wasn't. That person would persist and persist until I would snap and then they'd say "I thought you weren't in a bad mood."

The truth was I wasn't until you pushed me there.

I saw this happen in the last few weeks with a SCOTUS nominee. I'm not here to discuss his merits or his faults, but to recall a tendency.

When we push someone to the breaking point, we have no right to criticize their temperament.

It reminds me of something my dad used to say about Sabbath observance. Sometimes there is an "ox in the mire," something that comes up that involves what would normally going against Sabbath observance to take care of. My dad would say "it's ok to get that ox out of the mire on the Sabbath as long as you didn't spend all day Saturday pushing him in."

To bring this back to current reality, "It's ok to bring attention to someone's temperament as long as you aren't the one to drove him or her there."

Remembering a friend

Last Sunday at church, they announced the passing of a member. You could hear audible gasps when it was announced. I know that doesn't happen very often, usually because the death is expected.

Today was the funeral. I was touched at the start when one of the granddaughters started to take her baby out at the beginning of the service and someone offered to take the baby so that the granddaughter could enjoy the service.

There were other tender moments that the speakers shared about the many acts of service of this man who was being remembered.

I realize that the world doesn't revolve around me. However, I must share some personal experiences. This man reminded me a little of my dad. They were a year apart in age. I think the most glaring similarity was that his wife was in poor health and that didn't stop him from going to church and serving. And, unexpectedly, his illness was rapid and the onset sudden, and she is now left behind.

Earlier, I used the phrase "enjoy the service." I meant it. While funerals are emotionally taxing, the one great thing about an LDS funeral is that it is positive, hopeful, and if you listen, you are reminded of the Plan of Salvation, as it is taught in the talks.

I remember hearing about my mom going to an uncle's funeral when she was dating my dad. He asked sheepishly "how was it?" and she spoke positively about that service, which was NOT what he expected to hear. It planted a seed with him, along with other events that led to his eventual conversion.

I'm grateful to have known the man we said goodbye to today...til we meet again, Brother.

A Tale of Two Storehouses

My dad was raised in the 30's and 40's by a single mother and sometimes they needed assistance. Dad rarely spoke of it, except with disdain. He always thought highly of the LDS church and their assistance programs, because it preserved human dignity and was designed to be temporary. He also had done a lot of work at the cannery and storehouse in Los Angeles. A lot.

Around 30 years ago, Dad lost his job. This is the first time he might have had to be on the receiving end of church assistance. After some serious coaxing by his Bishop, he took a food order to the storehouse and it was not the pleasant, dignified experience he told everybody it would be. The worker was less than charitable and started going through the order, being critical of the items and amounts requested.

In addition to being hurt, he was angry. He grabbed the order and went home, storming into his Bishop's office, ripped up the order and threw it at the Bishop and walked out.

Thankfully, this Bishop was someone who knew Dad and could get through to him. He got Dad back in his office and talked to him. I was later told by my mom that Dad almost left the church over this incident, that's how upset and hurt he was. Dad was never driven from the church by upset or hurt feelings, but this came the closest. How ironic that the program my dad was such a cheerleader for, tried to fail him in his time of need!

A few weeks later, that Bishop called Dad into his office again, explaining that they had made some changes at the storehouse, and would he please go in again, not looking for trouble, to "test things out." He was to bring home any food he got. It had been fixed, and when I came home that day, I came home to more food than we had in the house when he was working.

Yesterday, I had an opportunity to volunteer at the local LDS Bishop's Storehouse in Albuquerque, NM. I had a great time helping to fill food orders, walking patrons through and assisting them with their orders, taking full grocery carts out to the cars with the patrons, etc. I enjoyed meeting a regular volunteer who comes there with her disabled son to get him some work experience. I laughed with patrons, and took care of business. It was a wonderful experience and something I would be willing to do again.

There was a few no-shows there yesterday. No judgment, no criticism, no questioning of the orders or the leaders who helped write them out. There was a beautiful spirit of love, support and dignity--just the way I would hope anyone would feel when trying to meet their family's most basic needs.

While I can't compare this experience to helping at other food banks, I was grateful to know that the Lord loves ALL his children and is there for them when they need Him.

(I brought up the first story, not to be critical of anyone/anything, but because it was heavy on my mind yesterday. I'm grateful that when we know better, we do better.)

Pride and Prejudice, 2015 style

A lot of bandwidth has taken up the news feeds over Caitlyn (nee Bruce) Jenner and the whole transgender thing. I find it sad that someone can be so unhappy in their own skin that they feel they must make drastic changes in order to feel "right." I'm also oddly intrigued by the process. Nevertheless it is their choice to make, not mine.

June is Pride Month. When I was younger, they called it Gay Pride, now it's just Pride, because the movement has adopted more than just men who like men and women who like women.

This is a bit uncomfortable for me to talk about, but because I love people who are gay, I'm trying and hope they get that I am trying, and not being disrespectful.

In the transgender discussion, some other "trans" have come up, half serious, half joking. These are trans-racial and trans-able. Stories in the news talk about a woman who (according to information at the time I wrote this) has been passing herself off as black. I'm sure we'll be hearing more about that story. There's another story about a guy in Canada who didn't feel like he should be whole and wanted to remove his arm.

As I heard more and more about this whole trans-able thing, my thoughts went immediately to my mother. Anything I say about her, please remember I have made my peace with her, so I do not any longer speak about her from a place of anger. Sorrow and pity, yes, but not anger. You see, my mother was mentally ill and never was diagnosed. As I got older, I saw a woman who became more and more needy (physically and emotionally) and felt so worthless that she didn't think anyone would like her for her, so made herself need the help of others so that they'd stay in her life.

Honestly. the thought process is irrational, but tell that to someone living it who believes it is right. I wonder if trans-able had been a thing back then, if she'd have that type of diagnosis. Nobody in their right mind would think it was ok to purposely become an invalid to keep people in your life, would they?

I thought I was clever with my title, but I truly hope that people don't feel my wanderings fall in the prejudice category. Mah girls had a blast at Pride today, and I'm so glad they did!!

Super weekend!

Seems like everybody wants us to talk about Bruce Jenner, Bobbi Kristina, Deflation, and/or the Super Bowl.

I had a different type of super weekend. I was able to witness three rites of passage. Yesterday, I got to see one of my Primary (LDS Children's Organization) kids get baptized. Our faith feels that baptism is for those who are accountable, which is determined to be age 8. I love watching the little ones get baptized. Heck, I love watching anyone get baptized when they discover truth and want to open a new chapter in their lives.

The second rite of passage was a memorial service for a local radio personality. I was a faithful listener when my schedule allowed and her passing was a surprise. I was grateful to have interactions with her on Facebook and via emails. I even got to meet her once in person when a friend of mine had a book signing in town. I remember the day she read my "where was I" on the air on the anniversary of 9/11. I can't stand for long periods of time, but I was able to stand for this and go out among people I either only know online or through the radio.

Number three was a baby blessing. Since in the LDS church we don't baptize babies, we do formally give them their name and a blessing. It's a big event for the parents and grandparents and other interested parties.

Now the bonus moment. Seven years ago, I was teaching a different Primary class and I've always had a tradition that if I'm teaching during Christmas, I give each of the children a homemade ornament. One of the young ladies I taught seven years ago came up to me today and said "I have to show you something. We were going through our Christmas decorations and I found this." She showed me the ornament I'd made that year. "That day you gave it to me, I had to leave early. I ended up with a concussion later that day and that ornament is one of the few things I remember from that day."

I thought that was sweet. I always wondered what happened to those ornaments. It's nice when you give something you made and someone considers it of value. It makes me feel something I can't describe.