Just Another Day

Every four years they (the people in charge of the time space continuum?) have to add an extra day to the calendar because the earth isn't quite up to speed. The result: Leap Year.

Leap Year is not to be confused with the mediocre Amy Adams movie from a few years ago. It was based on the tradition that it is just fine if a woman proposes to a man on February 29, and that the man must accept.  I figure if that is the basis of your marriage, then go ahead and give her your heart. While you're at it, give her your pants, because she's going to be wearing them. I digress...

February is already the strange month, then they go changing it up every four years.  I never quite knew the poem to help remember these things.  This is how it plays in my head:

Thirty days hath September,

April, June and November

All the rest have thirty-one,

except for February, cuz it's dumb.

I can honestly tell you that I don't know the real ending to that rhyme.

Most of us walk around grousing that we don't have enough time. We all dream of having an extra day to get things done. Things we want to do, things we need to do, time with the kids, down time, etc. So every four years, we are given the gift of an extra day - and what do we do with it? Nothing. It is just like any other day.

Today, just like yesterday, the kids went to school, and I'm going to work for an extra day so my money-grubbing boss can wring an extra buck out of me. (Have I mentioned that I'm self-employed?)

I think we have blown it. Since today is an extra day, we should treat it like one. - a bonus day - a freebie. It should be a day with no expectations, but full of opportunities to do whatever we would do if we had an extra day.

I wish I could go back in time and start a new family Leap Year tradition. Once every four years, on February 29, I would have pulled the kids out of school, taken the day off, and had a free day. A bonus day to spend with my family. We could have treated today as a gift, instead of just another day. That would have been fun.

But I didn't, and I haven't - and now I've got to get to work.

Enjoy your plain old boring Wednesday.

mormon humor lds humorist

I Would Like to Thank the Academy

Earlier in the week, award ceremonies were held for some of the lesser-known Academy categories. The winner of the "Virtually Unknown Mormon Blog Written by a MIddle-aged Man featuring a Handcart on the Header" was won by yours truly! How exciting! First time I have won anything in my life. Luckily, I was prepared with my acceptance speech. Transcript is printed below:


Thank you, thank you. This is such a surprise. I had no idea that the Academy recognized blogs - and with such great specificity!

When I was a young boy, growing up in the 60's and 70's, never once did I imagine that one day I would be accepting an award for blogging. It never even crossed my mind. Back then I did dream that one day I would win some type of award, and give an acceptance speech wearing a tuxedo. A baby blue tuxedo with wide lapels, ruffled shirt, bow-tie and bell-bottom slacks.

First I would like to thank Google. Because without Google, I would need print out my blog, or write in out by hand, and mail it to each and everyone of you. It would have already cost me more than $100,000. And I'm humble enough to accept that what I write is worth no more than $92,000.

After Google, I would be amiss if I failed to thank God. Over the years I have learned that there is nothing more important to God than making sure a select few of us receive the praise, glory and honors of men. Preferably ones that are accompanied by with a golden image.

I would also like to thank my parents who have already passed on. I hope they can see me now. I also hope that they can't see me most of the time.

My family is vital to this blog, and I owe them a debt of gratitude. Especially my sons for providing me with so much material to grouse about. I know that one day they will move on, but then, hopefully, the grandkids will do enough stupid things to keep me supplied with fresh material.  Hey boys: Hang up your towels!

Thank you to the second most important woman in my life:  My stylist.  Because "this" doesn't just "happen".

I would also like to thank those that know the real me for keeping my secret. We all know that the real me is not nearly as interesting as the blog version.

---I need to point out that at this time I got a little flustered because they started playing music and turning off the microphone.  But I soldiered on...

Martin Scorsese... what can I say?  Thank you for your inspiration, and for wearing those awesome Groucho glasses with the nose and eyebrows. Cracks me up every single time.

Next, I would like to thank my co-writers, if I had any. (It obviously only takes one man to crank out this drivel.)

Of course, I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for my loyal readers. Thanks to you, I am able to help support your internet addictions and provide you with yet another thing to read - as you ignore your children's cries that the tub water is getting "cold", or your spouse's request that you "turn the $%#@ computer OFF and come to bed."  -  I'm just happy to be a part of your lives.

A special shout out to my international readers, especially my crazy group of Kiwis, and my awesome Brits. You know who you are.

Thank you all so much! Good night!

Oh, almost forgot! I would like to thank my dear EC, for without her, I wouldn't be what I am today: *Married.


* Happily.


mormon humorist lds humor

He Keeps Going, and Going and Going...

Today in Sacrament Meeting, one of my favorite brethren in the ward gave an amazing talk. It was so good, so right, so inspiring. It was also so long.  He started when he was supposed to, but after his designated 10 minutes were up, he went on for an additonal 15. Small enough problem, but he wasn't the concluding speaker: There was yet to be a musical number, and a recently returned missionary.  The missionary was wonderful as well, but he suffered from the same "clock-management" issues that the other brother had.  All told, we got out of Sacrament Meeting 30 minutes late. I loved the meeting, I loved the speakers, and was filled.  But...

Both talks were wonderful, either one would have been great if the brother had been the sole speaker. I believe the Bishop did the right thing by letting them both go and complete their talks. However, it is a problem that I would like to address for a minute. (I'll try and keep it short!)

I am well aware that this is a challenge for many. Even apostles have struggled with this.  Any of you that remember Elder LeGrande Richards probably remember his struggles with the clock. Elder David B. Haight talked about Elder Richards speaking in the Tabernacle - at that time they had installed a yellow, then red, warning light to alert the speaker that time was up.

Brother LeGrand Richards, when the light was first installed, said, “Someone’s put a silly light up here.” He said, “I’ll just put my hand over it.” (Link here)


There may not be a light on the pulpit to tell you when to sit down, or an orchestra that will start playing exit music like at the Oscars tonight, but there is plenty of discomfort:

• There is a bishopric nervously shifting in their seats, wondering if they should tap you on the shoulder, skip the closing song, rearrange the remaining schedule, cancel the musical number, etc.

• There are also about 50 Primary, Relief Society, Priesthood, Sunday School, YM and YW teachers who are starting to worry, and wondering how to adjust. Remember, many of these teachers spent as much time preparing their lessons as you did for your talk. Time spent on their knees, time learning, time preparing, and now they find themselves trying to figure out how to cut a 40 minute lesson down to 20 - and still accomplish what they've set out to do.

• There is an entire congregation who is looking at the clock, wondering what's up. I would like to say that we are all so engrossed in what is being said that we lose track of time, but it isn't the case. In my example from today, I WAS engrossed in the talk, and the spirit and power being conveyed, but I did notice the unease around me, as well as the little girl in front of me who kept turning around to look at the clock. Every 30 seconds.

It is really tough to preserve a spiritual environment when you run past the designated time.

I have experienced this problem as a High Council speaker - the junior companion speaker takes most of the time, leaving me the last few minutes to offer a simple testimony and sit down. I don't think that's what the Stake President has in mind when he sends the HC out to the wards.

In our area there was a trend that when a husband and wife were called to speak together, the wife would take most of the time. The husband would have to graciously pocket his talk, bare a quick testimony, and sit down.  We eventually abandoned this format, and mixed things up. We found that a sister was much less likely to go over time if the next speaker was not her husband.

I see it as a matter of respect, and/or a matter of experience and skill.

Giving a talk is scary for many people. Preparing one is difficult. Being able to gauge exactly how long your talk is can be very difficult when you are in the middle of giving it.

Here are a few tips:

1)  When the bishopric member asks you to speak, ask "How long?"
2) Prepare your talk with that time in mind - don't forget to provide time for an introduction and a testimony at the end.  Also, if you are an emotional speaker, build in time for kleenex.
3) When you have you talk written, practice it - with a timer. Multiple times. There are very few speakers out there who can accurately gauge how fast time is moving . (Yes, write it down - even if you don't plan on using the notes.)
4) Make note of the parts of your talk that you can skip, should it be running late.
5) If it is just impossible to fit your talk into the assigned time, put the talk away, save it for another day, and start over.

Remember, even the General Authorities, who speak by the power of the Holy Ghost, write their conference talks in advance. You never see them stand up in conference and "wing it'. Their timing is remarkable. It takes time, and practice.

So, if the phone rings and you get asked to speak, remember...it's not all about you.
Preach, teach, inspire - and end on time!

(PS: If you have been on the receiving end of an endless talk, the proper response is:  Thank you for your wonderful talk!)

One More Thought on Music: This One's a Goodie!

Yesterday Nathan mentioned in a comment that he played in the symphony last week. Now I don't know Nathan, but I was happy for him, because he performed Mozart's Symphony 29, and also "The Planets" by Gustav Holst.  It reminded me of one of my favorite songs ever - It is one of those that speak to my spirit.

The song is "The Iron Rod", but the familiar lyrics are set to another melody.  The tune is adapted from Gustav Holst's symphony "The Planets" I think it is the "Jupiter" movement.


Enjoy, and may you have a good Sabbath tomorrow.

Music 24/7

The other night I was up late channel surfing. My sweet EC was snuggled up to me, and already out cold. Me? I was avoiding going to sleep. Do you know why? Because if you go to sleep at night, the next thing you know, it's morning. Do you know what happens in the morning? You have to get up. And I don't like getting up.  So, I procrastinate going to sleep. I'm nothing if not logical.

Anyway, as I scrolled through the programs, the movie "Amadeus" caught my eye. I was compelled to stop and watch.

Amadeus (1984) is one of my all-time favorite movies. I lost count of how many times I have seen it. I love the music, the story, the acting. It makes me think as well. One reason I know it so well is that I worked at a movie theater when it was playing. I would make a point to slip in the back of the theater and watch in whenever I could. The movie spurred an interest in Mozart, and I fell in love with his work. I mentioned some of it in yesterday's post.

As I was watching, a short piece of Simfonia Concertante was used in the soundtrack. That little piece of music triggered a thought, which triggered another. This post is just a listing of some of those thoughts. (Mostly because I couldn't figure out a way to put them all together with any sense of coherence.)  Feel free to contribute any thoughts you have on the topic.

• It occurred to me that I have heard the Simfonia Concertante more times in my life than Mozart ever did in his. I've been a fan for some 25+ years, and listen to it quite often - it is on my Sabbath playlist.

• The only way Mozart could have ever heard the song was either in his head, or performed live. There were no recordings.

• I have seen this piece performed once. It was great, but I know the piece from hearing it over and over again. Back in Mozart's day, it would be almost impossible for a listener to get really familiar with a piece, because your opportunities to hear it would be so limited.

• Some of classical music's greatest works were under-appreciated in their day, and were only performed a few times. Some, like Beethoven's 5th were performed badly the first time.

• The only way to hear music up until about 100 years ago was live. As in, the person singing or playing had to be right there with you.

• Of all the people who have lived on the earth, only the people who have lived in the last 100 years have been able to hear the same song, performed exactly the same way, twice.

• Recorded music for private use has only been around for a little more 100 years. I have been around for 50 of those 100 years.

• The Sony Walkman came out in 1979 - the year I graduated from High School. (33 years ago)

• I have 2490 songs in my iTunes library. Not very many by today's standards - My kid's standards, that is.

• If I were to listen to every one of those songs once, it would take 7 days, 18 hours, 33 minutes.

• My brain holds the music and complete lyrics to about 2200 of those songs. I wonder what percentage of my brain is filled with that music.

• I don't even want to think about how much money my family has given Apple to house our music.

• If I had no access to recorded music, I would still have music in my life. Most would come from the following:
a) Me singing to myself
b) Other people singing around me
c) Church
d) My family members playing instruments
e) An occasional concert/musical theater performance

• Joseph Smith, Brigham Young and the pioneers only heard live music in their lifetimes.  That gives me extra appreciation that John Taylor could sing for Joseph in Carthage upon request, and that the pioneers could gather around the campfires to share music.

• I hear music all day long - in the office, in stores, on the TV, in church - and that is all incidental - that music is just playing - I didn't choose it, but it is there constantly. In addition, I can also listen to music in my house, in my office or on my head - all music that I listen to by choice.


Where am I going with this? I don't really know. I just got lost in thoughts about music, and began to appreciate how lucky I am to have this incredible access to unlimited music - unlike most people in the history of the world.  Lucky? Blessed? Maybe.

It also makes me wonder what the endless drone of the music is drowning out. I would like to think that the soundtrack to my life enhances my life. Or does having a constant soundtrack playing in my life detract from deeper thinking, from spiritual communication, from peace? Either? Both?

I can't imagine the boy Joseph walking into the grove of trees wearing an iPod.

.

More Culture Than a Large Frozen Yogurt (With Toppings)

OK kids. Every now and then, I need to feign a level of sophistication that you usually don't associate with me. Today I am sharing some tunes with you for three reasons:

1) I will be making a brief reference to this piece in my post tomorrow, and y'all need to get up to speed.
2) Sinfonia Concertante K. 364 is my favorite Mozart work, followed closely by Symphonies 29 & 41. Why? It makes me a better person.
3) We all need a little more Mozart in our lives - 'tis good for the soul.

Please note:

1) The soloists make ridiculous faces. Especially the dude in the chef's jacket.
2) Violas are awesome.
3) It runs around 30 minutes. You might want to turn it up, or wear headphones.
4) There are other versions of this piece out there, but I think this one is joyful. And free.
5) All three movements are included, but broken into 5 parts for YouTube.
6) Please send me links to any classical music that "grabs" you.  (This would NOT include music featuring Steven Tyler - that's Classic, not Classical.)

Enjoy!  No need to thank me - just doing my job.

-MMM-

Dig it!

Son, this is called a shovel. No, you don't plug it in.

President's Day weekend. Rest and relaxation! Not hardly - chores and more chores - especially for the 14 year-old FOML.  A wise and kind neighbor asked him if he would be willing to dig a ditch for him so he could extend a gas line in his yard. He promised to "make it worth his while". (Whatever that might mean.) My son was willing, and spent a good chunk of his Saturday, and most of his Monday holiday with a pick axe and shovel.  It was a hard job, made especially hard because the only ditches my boys ever seem to dig are to protect sand castles from the encroaching surf.

My son came home exhausted, with blisters. He thought I was weird because I was excited to see them, and I was proud of him.  Here's why:

A good friend of mine is currently serving as a Mission President. We were visiting on the phone the other day and I asked him a question:

"Well President, now that you have been out for a year, what words of wisdom do you have for a friend who still has three more sons to send out on missions."  I asked this expecting some spiritual gem that I could share with my boys.

"Make sure they know how to work hard. Tough physical labor. Make sure they can get up early in the morning and work hard all day."

I was surprised how quickly he came back with that answer, so I dug a little deeper and asked him what he was seeing that made him feel that way.

"This generation of youth does not know how to work hard. They plan on serving a mission their whole life, they get here, and realize that it is hard work, and they can't do it - so they want to go home. It happens all the time. Make sure they know how to work hard before they get out in the field, and it will be a great blessing to them."

I've thought a lot about what he said. Is it true? Are we raising a generation of wimps?  (Rhetorical question.)

So, the next morning I got the all the boys up at 4:00am, told them go milk the cows, feed the horses and plow the back 40. They weren't pleased because we don't have cows, horses, or a back 40.

I am aware that my generation had it much easier than my father's. He spent his childhood working the farm, milking cows, bailing hay, and then washing up and going to school. It was a tough life. Of course my generation had it much easier, and we had to listen to him talk about carrying 100lb bales of hay around the ranch when he was six.

The latest generation has it even easier. Part of the reason is that technology replaced some of the labor of my youth (gas mowers, weedeaters, blowers, snow blowers, have replaced push-mowers, hand trimmers, and snow shovels)  Part is because my kids and I are Suburbanites: Garden yes, farm, no. Part is because society now prohibits young people from holding difficult jobs for terrible wages. When I was a young man, several jobs I held were brutal - construction, landscaping, etc. They were good for me, and made me stronger, and put some money in my mission fund. They also gave me something to lord over my children with: "When I was your age, I spent the day swinging a pickaxe with blisters the size of quarters..." (Yeah, they hate it)

Another difficulty is that our kids just don't have much time to work anymore because societal priorities have shifted. School, hobbies, church and sports* tend to take up so much time that holding down a job would be virtually impossible.  Most everyone I knew had a job in high school. Now few of the youth I know are employed.  To make it worse, there aren't a lot of jobs out there for young people.  Sometimes I feel that we don't expect much from our youth in the area of work anymore . We figure that since they have all the other "stuff" going on they need time to relax - to "chill". So we let things slide. Chores become a Saturday-only thing - unless there is a game on Saturday, and we let them off the hook becasue they are tired, and they've had a rough week.  (Can you hear me quoting myself?) I would be afraid to tally hours the FOMLs spend laboring vs. hours spent looking at a screen.

As a church we do make an effort because we are aware that our youth are lacking in physical challenges - that's why we create challenges for them - handcart treks, Scouting, hikes, service projects etc.  It says something about how soft society has gotten when the hardest thing a young man or young woman has ever done in their entire lives can be accomplished over the course of a few days in the mountains on a church activity.

The FOMLs seem to be able to work hard when they absolutely must, and are especially capable of very hard work when it is for people other than me. Overall, I think I am batting about .500 in this endeavor. I am not sure if the concept of the value of work for work's sake is making any inroads. It's more of a "get it over with" attitude, rather than doing a really good job because you are proud of your work. Perhaps our family needs a better "Happy Working Song"*.

What do you do? Do your kids know how to work hard? Are they expected to do more than a list of Saturday chores? Do they ever have to sacrifice fun for work? How does work fit in with school, sports, church and hobbies in their lives? I am curious as to how you all handle it - assuming you do. Please share your thoughts on this topic.  (Note: If you do have cows, horses, and a back 40, you win. No bragging, please.)

So, my son spent his holiday getting blisters. Atta boy!  Maybe next Saturday we can do some more manual labor - either for our family or to serve someone else, so he can adjust to it, and learn that there is great satisfaction in working hard.

Idea:  Maybe part of the Mission Prep class should be held on Saturday mornings at 5:00am. Bring your shovel.

----

* Some people rationalize that sports=hard work.  Right. I'll delve into that another time, so let's save that.

Note;  After I wrote this, I found a fabulous talk on this same subject form Elder F. David Stanley of the Seventy, from April Conference, 1993. In it, he says almost the exact same thing that my friend told me. From the mouth of two witnesses...  Link to the full talk here.

* If you don't want to watch Elder Stanley, here is Amy Adams:

You're Getting Sleeeeepy...

It's really late Saturday night: Allergies are killing me. A day's worth of chores and something in the air have my nose running like a faucet.

"Honey", I yell, "Is it OK to take Benadryl and Zytec at the same time?"
"It's probably not a good idea." she replied. "You know how Benadryl messes you up."
"Too late. I already did."
"Then why did you ask?"
"Because I'm stupid."

It's true. Not the stupid part - the Benadryl part - OK, maybe the stupid part too.  The label on the Benadryl bottle says that it lasts from 4-6 hours, but for some reason my body takes 10-12 hours to metabolize it - but it works. And it makes me wicked tired. Oh, well. I'll sleep it off. Did I mention that I took two?

After a night of fitful sleep, I get up feeling fuzzy, and start getting ready for church. My face feels like Molly Ringwald's sister in Sixteen candles. I take a shower. Still fuzzy. Breakfast. That will wake me up. But I've got to hurry because I'm running late, and I have to make sure the kids are ready too. In a strange twist of family tradition, my EC had left long ago for early meetings, and I'm in charge at home.

One cherry PopTart and a full can of Dr. Pepper TEN later, I think I'm safe to drive. We arrive at church and the traditional pre-meeting handshake ritual perks me up. I'm going to be fine, and my nose is not running. Yet.

I sit on down on the bench (we are soft-seat saints) and I immediately notice the perfume from the sister in front of us. As soon as the Counselor stands up to begin Sacrament Meeting, my nose begins unleashing a torrent. Through brilliant planning on my part, I have a pocketful of Kleenex, and am able to contain the flow without resorting to embedding the tissues in my nostrils and wearing them.

So far, so good. The trickle subsides, I get through the opening song, the ward business, and the Sacrament. Alert and inspired. If I recall correctly, there were speakers after that..

As the first youth speaker begins, my eyelids gain ten pounds. Each. I begin trying every trick I know to stay awake.

• I sit up really straight and put my arm around my EC, hoping that improved posture will help.
• I pull the hair on the back of my calf.
• I pay attention to every word, focusing intently.

The next speaker is a wonderful young man who keeps me awake for most of his talk because I am so impressed that he is giving such a good talk. Even so, I did do the "head bob and jolt" a couple of times during his talk.

The next talk is a struggle.  I resort to some of my better tricks.

• I fidget with my wedding ring.
• I pinch that really sensitive part between my thumb and forefinger and find that horrible nerve. It works for a minute.

• I take apart my pen and put it back together.

• I do it again, using only one hand.

• I fight off the urge to update my FB status.
• I reach for my notebook to take notes - not realizing that I have forgotten it.

I am succeeding. One more talk to go - but first it's time for some music. Hopefully we can all stand and sing "Praise to the Man" or some great church anthem. But no, it's a piano solo. A beautiful, melodic, gentle, peaceful piano solo.

I am out cold. Still sitting up. I wake up once and look to the stand. The second counselor is looking right in my eyes. And he smiles. I smile back and subtly shake my head. He smiles even bigger.

You see, I was Bishop for over five years, and I NEVER fell asleep on the stand. Ever. There were a few times when it was close, but I knew that if I did, I would never hear the end of it.  There were even some ward members who felt compelled to point out to me when I had had a close call. "Looks like you were really struggling up there today bishop. Haha." Hilarious.

So I have an entire arsenal of tricks at my disposal. Techniques developed during five years of hundreds of pairs of eyes taking note of my alertness. But today, all my weapons are failing me.  The concluding speaker begins talking. He has such a gentle voice...

It's all over. Next thing I know, it's time to sing. I feel like I'm falling and I jolt awake. The counselor is still grinning at me. My EC is too. She is finding this to be amusing. Oh well. The meeting ends, and I gather my things to go teach my Sunday School class.

I wonder how the lesson went...



LDS humor mormon humorist

Bringing the Thunder

When I was a high schooler, I had one special quality that would drive my father absolutely crazy.  I wouldn't get out of bed on time. He would come into my room, and happily wake me, sometimes in Spanish, and tell me it was time to get up.  I would mumble and stir and he would leave.  I would then immediately fall back asleep. He would come back a little later, a little less happy, and a little louder.  Same result.  Finally, he would come thundering in -  much louder, unhappy, and sometimes with a cup of cold water. I would get up, and ironically, be irritated at him.

I have four sons. I have since been repaid. When I see my father again, I will sincerely apologize.

As we are working our way through the Book of Mormon at home and at church, I have noticed my little wake-up routine described in the scriptures. The earliest mention is with when Nephi was getting after his older brothers for being so rebellious and difficult during their time in the wilderness.

Nephi and Lehi had both spent time trying to help Laman and Lemuel "wake up". The Lord had sent an angel to tell them to knock it off, but they just didn't respond. Even the Lord himself got involved and gave them a talking to. (1 Nephi 16:39) That seemed to do the trick, for a little while.

Finally after hearing them complain about building a boat one too many times, Nephi said:

Ye are swift to do iniquity but slow to remember the Lord your God. Ye have seen an angel, and he spake unto you; yea, ye have heard his voice from time to time; and he hath spoken unto you in a still small voice, but ye were past feeling, that ye could not feel his words; wherefore, he has spoken unto you like unto the voice of thunder, which did cause the earth to shake as if it were to divide asunder. (1 Nephi 17:45)


-- Please let me interject one little point here:  Voice of Thunder = Bad.

Nephi then threatened to bring "The Thunder" and warned them that if they even touched him, they would wither like a reed. (1 Nephi 17:48) Just to help reenforce his point, the Lord had Nephi give them a little taste - a shock - to know he meant business. (For a very immature post regarding this instance, click here)

When you look at what got them to this point, you see that the reason they ended up hearing and feeling the thunder, was simply because they kept ignoring the still, small voice of the Spirit.

Years later, Alma the Younger and his buddies, the sons of Mosiah, were running around wreaking havoc for the church. It got bad enough that Alma the Older and the people had been praying that God would intervene. Intervene He did. It isn't recorded if initially the Holy Ghost has tried a quiet, gentle approach, but it is recorded that He eventually brought the thunder.

And as I said unto you, as they were going about rebelling gainst God, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared unto them; and he descended as it were in a cloud; and he spake as it were with a voice of thunder, which caused the earth to shake upon which they stood; (Mosiah 27:11)


The result? Alma and friends were knocked to the ground. Alma couldn't talk, couldn't move and "was carried helpless, even until he was laid before his father." (v. 19)  Alma the Older loved it, and he "rejoiced". It took two days and nights for his son's strength to return, and when it did, he had repented.


Ironically, when Alma was later expressing his wish "Oh that I were an angel..." (Alma 29:1) he specifically said "Yea I would declare unto every soul, as with the voice of thunder, repentance and the plan of redemption..." (v. 2). I guess he figured that since it worked for him, that might be the way to go for others as well.


But we know it isn't. Remember:  Thunder=Bad.


If we have gotten to a point where we are experiencing the voice of thunder, we have probably been ignoring the Spirit for too long. Often the voice of thunder is simply a way to get our attention, to wake us up, to get us out of bed.

The Spirit does not get our attention by shouting or shaking us with a heavy hand. Rather it whispers. It caresses so gently that if we are preoccupied we may not feel it at all. (No wonder that the Word of Wisdom was revealed to us, for how could the drunkard or the addict feel such a voice?)

Occasionally it will press just firmly enough for us to pay heed. But most of the time, if we do not heed the gentle feeling, the Spirit will withdraw and wait until we come seeking and listening and say in our manner and expression, like Samuel of ancient times, “Speak Lord, for thy servant heareth.”  (Boyd K. Packer, Ensign, 1983)

Even though I know this to be true, I find myself sometimes wanting bigger, fancier answers to prayers. In a small way, it seems that sometimes I am actually seeking the voice of thunder, because I want something more definitive and recognizable that a mere feeling, or prompting.

Yes, this is not a good way to go.  But occasionally I do catch myself "seeking a sign".


“Even in our day, many people…expect if there be revelation it will come with awe inspiring, earth-shaking display… The great volume of revelation came to Moses and to Joseph and comes to today’s prophet in the less spectacular way—that of deep impressions, without spectacle or glamour or dramatic events. Always expecting the spectacular, many will miss entirely the constant flow of revealed communication” (President Spencer W. Kimball, in CR Munich Germany Area Conference 1973, pp. 76-77).


My hope is that neither you or I ever need to hear the voice of thunder. I hope that we will be sensitive enough to the Holy Ghost that we will hear, and feel, when he speaks.

Remember:

Thunder = Bad.
Still, small voice = Good.



.

Judge, Jury & Executioner

Since I have been blogging, I have had thousands upon thousands of comments from readers. I love them. You bloggers out there know that one of the best parts of blogging is reading what others have to say. Faithful readers will know that sometimes we get into very elaborate discussions about important things as well as unimportant things, and sometimes we just riff off of each other when we are being goofy. It can be educational, inspirational, and hysterical. (Though rarely all at the same time.)

Yesterday, when I posted "Mormonism: You Probably Won't Get It", I knew that I would get a lot of response. Every now and again I write something that I think is important. (Not that all of my posts aren't genius, but some aren't that important. Case in point: click here) Yesterday's post rocketed up the list to my #4 post of all time - and climbing.

What came with the hits was something new: Opposition. In one single day I received more critical, offensive, and hostile comments than in the previous 3,000 comments. Apparently the simplicity of my message riled some people up. I choose to wear it as a badge of honor.

I don't know about yours, but I paid extra to have a special keyboard made that has, what the salesman called, a "Delete" key. It is magical, and powerful. With it, I have the ability to destroy anything on my screen, and in turn, anything on my blog. Some might argue that I should use it more when I write, but that is for another discussion.

So yesterday, I used my Delete key with great success. What? That is CENSORSHIP! How could you be so neanderthal?

(Help! I'm being repressed!)

Yes, it is censorship. I am judge, jury and executioner when it comes to comments on my blog. The key word here is MY blog.  If you want to have your own blog, have at it. It's free: http://www.blogger.com

I respect the rights of others to have opinions that differ from mine. I also respect the rights of people to shout those opinions from the mountaintops, if they feel so inclined.

In turn, I would expect those same people to respect my right to refuse to provide a platform for what I know to be false and misleading comments.

Don't confuse this with the wonderful discussions we have about gospel topics. I enjoy sincere, honest discussions that help us understand the gospel better, and become better saints. I don't mind if you disagree with me. The difference is that the new comments I have been receiving are from people looking to tear down the church, and lure people away from it. 

Not on my blog. Not on my watch.

Here is are basic concepts upon which this blog is founded:

1) God lives, and loves us. Jesus is the Christ, the Redeemer of Mankind.

2) The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the only true church upon the earth, and the only church that has the priesthood authority required to perform saving ordinances.

3) The Church was restored through a modern-day prophet named Joseph Smith. He and his successors, up to and including Thomas S. Monson, are prophets in the most literal sense. As are the apostles that serve with them. We should give them heed.

4) The Book of Mormon is the word of God.

and

5) We can strengthen each other by learning and sharing our experiences.

6) We can also laugh at our culture and each other and still be righteous.

There.

So, if you want to espouse your belief that the church isn't true, or that it needs reformed, your comment will be deleted. If you want to tell me how the prophet and the brethren are not inspired and are out-of-touch, I will delete that too. If you want to be harshly critical or aggressive to any of my readers, I will delete that too.  Besides, there are plenty of other blogs out there that will embrace and celebrate your hostility.

I have a magic button, and I'm not afraid to use it. I have also had to implement comment moderation, so that I can look at a comment before it goes up on the blog. Sorry, I am loathe to do that, but it has become necessary for now.

My invitation is this: If you want to participate with a great group of people, discuss gospel topics, have some fun, and work our way through this difficult world together, then you are welcome here with open arms, and open hearts.

Extra loves from,

-MMM-

Mormonism? You Probably Won't Get it.

An open letter to those who want to know more about the LDS faith:

I have made it through fifty years without ever having to learn calculus. I took some algebra in college, but that was the end of my math-life. Now, when one of my teenagers calls me over to the kitchen table for some help, I have to remind them that I don’t “get” calculus.

As an active member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I have been curiously watching how the media is handling the trending interest in Mormonism. Some even refer to it as the “Mormon Moment”.

New articles about Mormonism show up almost daily on the websites of major media. Many are written by journalists trying to be objective, some by critics with no intention of being objective, and some by Mormon bloggers.  Rarely do I see a piece from any of these sources that is factually accurate regarding the doctrines and beliefs of our church. Even the stories written by Mormons often descend into soapbox speeches about reform or some other hot button issue that the writer is trying to advocate. Espousing dedication, with an extra-helping of agenda. (They know who they are, and it is no accident.)

It seems that whenever anyone wants to discuss Mormonism, they jump right to the topics of polygamy, temples, tithing, sacred underclothing, gay marriage, etc. The problem is that these are the “calculus” level concepts in the theology, and if you don’t understand the basic principles, you are never going to “get” the advanced principles - especially if you are basing your search on the current media portrayal of the LDS church.

So, if you are seriously trying to understand Mormon theology, there are three core concepts that you will need to wrestle with, or the rest isn’t going to make any sense at all.

1) We believe that Jesus Christ is the literal Son of God, and our Redeemer. We believe he died on the cross, and atoned for our sins. We also believe that such a description barely scratches the surface of what there is to know about Him.

Although born-again pastors might call us non-Christian, and our doctrine does not line up nicely with the Nicene Creed, we believe that we are absolutely Christian. We don’t worry about how men define us. We are more concerned about how God defines us. And I am quite confident in my Christianity by that definition.

2) We believe that God loves His children yesterday, today, and forever, and that He is no respecter of persons. Because of this, we accept that God has spoken to more people than those that inhabited the tiny area of the Holy Land.  It is a big world. Why would God limit Himself to such a tiny sampling of the world’s population?

Also, if God spoke to prophets and revealed truth to the world from the beginning of time to the death of Jesus’ apostles, why would he stop after that? Did he give up on us? Did He reveal all we needed? It is obvious from the tens of thousands of Christian churches that disagree with each other that there has got to be more - and better - information and guidance that He can give us.

We believe that God continues to reveal his truths to prophets today, as he always has. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. He still loves us, and still communicates with us. He has not logged off.

--- If you choke on this concept, the next one will make even less sense.

3) What we do is based on what we believe.  Our end goal is to follow what we believe God wants us to do. It is not to have the healthiest population, to have the lowest divorce rate, to be the most scripturally literate church, to have tens of thousands of young men and women serving as missionaries all over the world, to have the highest rate of tithe payers of any church – these things are not Mormon goals in and of themselves. They are the results of dedicated individuals and families, trying their best to follow what they believe God wants them to do. Yes, the results are remarkable, which only serves to strengthen our faith.

Three basic concepts – yet none of them are simple. All of them are heresy in many circles.  Yet each of these principles must be understood if you truly want to understand what makes us tick, and the finer points of our theology.

I am not speaking for the LDS Church. I am just a normal Mormon member, and there are a lot of us quietly doing our best to live our religion.  I do know that the foundation of my life is my core belief, and there are many other deeper and more complex theological points in our faith.

And remember, most things that you read about Mormonism are written by people who don’t understand Mormonism. And much of what you read that is written by Mormons is really an attempt to further an agenda that is not in line with the LDS Church.

If you truly want to understand the Mormons, grasp these three concepts, and then talk to a normal Mormon.

(One great way to find us is visit www.Mormon.org.)

Valentine Thoughts

Years ago, my mother was busily being kind, and had prepared valentines cards and treats to send to all of the full-time missionaries serving from our ward. She was in  hurry, and felt the need to abbreviate.  She was later aghast to realize that she had sent all the missionaries the same greeting:

"Happy V.D."

As coincidence (or poverty) would have it, I always seemed to be "unencumbered" on Valentine's Day as a young man. Sometimes by my doing, sometimes I was the victim. Either way, I had precious little appreciation for the February 14th, and the day was a day of "blah".

However, the week after Valentine's in 1986, I went on my first date with my eventual EC, and from there on, 2/14 gained new meaning. This is not without some obstacles. When my EC was pregnant with one of the FOMLs, we went to the doctor for an ultrasound. He made the measurements and pinpointed the due date as February 14. Luckily, nobody ever has their baby on their exact due date.  Well, almost nobody. Our bouncing baby boy showed up precisely on Valentine's Day, forever relegating Valentine's Day to second-class status. (Maybe not forever, but for a few more years at least.)

But that's OK, because living with me is like Valentine's Day 365 days a year. Right Honey?  Honey...? Have you forgiven me for yesterday's post?

---

Last weekend we were invited to two weddings to be held at the exact same time. One was for a coworker (her third), and the other for a lovely niece. We went to the niece's wedding. It was held at a gorgeous location - everything was beautiful, every detail perfect. She looked like a princess. The dinner was great, the decor and music well-chosen - it looked like a fairy tale, and she was beaming.

The ceremony was performed by an LDS bishop, and he did a great job of teaching the covenants of marriage without seeming too pushy - since neither groom nor bride are members of the Church. For those who don't know, when bishops perform weddings, there is a certain passage that needs to be read verbatim as instructed by the handbook. The wording is similar to parts of the temple sealing, and teaches much. But it ends with the words...

"As long as you both shall live." (The LDS equivalent of 'til death do us part.)

Boom. What a heavy phrase to finalize a joyful occasion. The words hung in the air for me as I squeezed my EC's hand a little tighter.

Finite. Temporary. Death.

No flowers are beautiful enough, no dress sparkles enough, no pomp empowers enough to push through the heaviness I felt for what was missing from this ceremony. Eternity. I'm sure there was only a handful of us there that felt it. This lovely young couple is starting their lives together full of happiness and excitement, with a hope of something magical that will last forever. I think most couples have that innate sense that it issupposed to last forever, because it is the only viewpoint that makes any sense. But those limits are still in place - relegating this union their time on earth. Finite.

I don't know what it feels like to have a finite marriage. A marriage with an unknown expiration date.  It is not something I have lived with, nor can I understand how it would alter me and my perspective. I find great stability and happiness knowing that I am in this relationship for the long haul. Infinite. That whatever challenges we face are but for a small season, and that eternity awaits. This is one of the grand blessings of a marriage solemnized in an LDS temple.

Eternity sounds great...if my EC is with me. If not, it doesn't sound so "heavenly". I can't even imagine it. I want to be with her ALL OF THE TIME. I don't need a 'night out with the guys', or to 'have some time alone', and neither does she. If we tire of each other's company here on earth, that doesn't bode well for the billions of years to come.

Last year I wrote a post about "The Most Romantic Thing Ever Written" (here), and I still contend that there is no book, no movie, no song has ever been written - or ever will be - that is more romantic than the concept and promise of Eternal Marriage. It is what every pair of lovers dream about - it is the possibility that churns in their souls - even if they don't understand how or why. It feels right.

God does not send us to this earth to create bonds of such depth and importance, merely to cast them aside, or let the clock run out on them. Yet it happens to most.

The constant in my life is my sweet companion. She loves me - go figure! I love her - who wouldn't? Our marriage has a natural ease about it that contradicts those who preach that "marriage is hard work". I don't feel it. How can I describe this relationship as hard work? It is my favorite part of life - it's not a chore. There are many who do not feel the same, but for us, that is our reality. I can't call it work. I equate it to the concept that is described in D&C 121:46 "and without compulsory means it will flow unto thee forever and ever."

When I look into the eyes of my sweet wife, I am reassured that she loves me, yet I sense something even greater at work- and there's only one. Her love for me reminds me that God loves me, too. He must - or we wouldn't be 'us' - and we couldn't be 'us' forever.

Love and Diet Coke

When I asked for questions a while ago, someone named Anonymous asked me "How about a post about intimacy in marriage?"  Yikes. Do I want to go there? I think not. Yes, tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and it is an important topic, but I am not a therapist, and wouldn't feel comfortable writing about it.

I am proud to say that I am very happily married, and so is my EC. But I recognize that a lot of people aren't. There are a few common areas that always seem to be the focus of the discord. Many couples struggle with "marriage issues" which is often code for "intimacy", which is a euphemism for "sex". Even though I have had the privilege adventure of hearing people fight about these issues, I would never presume to be an expert.

And so, even though I could, I have chosen not to write a post about intimacy - I hope you understand. I try to keep this blog family-friendly. :)

HOWEVER... I do know a lot about soda, and am very comfortable discussing Diet Coke.  In fact, men and women often view Diet Coke quite differently, and sometimes it is good to see how the "other side" looks at things. (Be warned: both the man and woman are stereotypical generalizations, and I recognize that this can be completely reversed for some people. And for some, this will not apply at all. Also, this does not represent any specific people. Especially you, Tim and Holly. Remember, everybody has their own issues with soda consumption - so nobody get defensive.)

A Man's View of Diet Coke:
I really, really, really like Diet Coke. You could say that I love it. If I could, I would enjoy a nice refreshing Diet Coke every day of my life. Sometimes more than once.  My wife just doesn't understand that I can get thirsty two days in a row. But when I tell her that no matter how satisfying today's Diet Coke is, I'm gonna want another one tomorrow, she just looks at me with a blank stare.

I am particular. Even if I can't have Diet Coke as often as I would like, I still only want real Diet Coke. So relax, I am not going to pay for any fake knock-off brand - I will wait for the real thing. I don't really even care if it is served with a smile, in a fancy glass, or just straight out of the bottle. It is my favorite, and the Diet Coke Company should appreciate my loyalty.

It baffles me that my wife doesn't love Diet Coke as much as I do. It makes no sense. What's not to love? I can enjoy a Diet Coke when I'm tired, or in a bad mood, or stressed out about other things.

I am not going to say that Diet Coke controls my emotions, but I have noticed that if I don't drink Diet Coke for several days,  I tend to get cranky. It is true that I am nicer, and feel better, when Diet Coke is readily available. I am happy to compromise, but it never seems to work.

A Woman's View of Diet Coke:
Diet Coke is fine, and I'll have one every now and again. But I can't comprehend why someone would want to drink one every day. Every day? Isn't that a little excessive? I think we are moving out of the "love" area into the "addiction" area.
It seems to me that if you have a big soda, it should be a week or two before you need another.

I tell my husband that I am fine with an occasional Diet Coke, like maybe once a week or twice a month, but he just doesn't understand. Once I tried to explain this, and asked him to compromise with me, he said he would be happy to compromise. This was his compromise: Since I am good with 24 Diet Cokes a year, and he is happy with 400 a year, he suggested we compromise at somewhere in the middle - around 200 Diet Cokes a year.

It ain't gonna happen.

You can't make someone want to have a Diet Coke. And being pestered or guilted doesn't make me want one more. In fact, it makes me want one less. But he never seems to get that.

When it comes right down to it, I am more of an ice cream person anyway. For me, I would rather save up all the money spent on Diet Coke, and buy really good ice cream every once in a while.

A Woman's View on Ice Cream:
I love ice cream. It makes me feel happy inside. I especially love it when we have it together after a nice evening out. I love to get dressed up, hair, make-up etc., hire a babysitter, have a nice dinner, go to a movie and really enjoy each other's company.

Then we get some good quality ice cream and take it home to eat in bed. We make sure the kids are asleep, that I've called to check on my mom, the kid's backpacks are ready, all the doors are locked, my email is checked, and I check my Facebook for a minute. Then, if he's still awake, we break out the ice cream. It is perfect.

It isn't something we can afford to do very often, and it just wouldn't be healthy. Remember, it is definitely about quality, not quantity.

A Man's View of Ice Cream:
Ice cream? I can do that everyday, too.

(MMM note:  When I wrote this, it was meant to be a clever take on some of the struggles that couples deal with in marriage. Turns out that it triggered quite a bit of response. Many of the comments were beyond what I wanted to do with this post. Many were very good attempts at furthering the issue with good insight, others...not so much. Because of this, I have taken down most of the comments that push further into the issue.  I have, however, left the ones that praise my creativity. ;).  Please don't take offense. I just don't feel like my blog is the place to have heavy discussions about very personal issues.  If you would like to discuss it further, please email me.  Thanks!  MMM)

Puzzled

My family was a Puzzle Family. When I was young, we seemed to always be working on a puzzle. We even had a card table set up in the corner of the family room where there was usually a work in progress. And these weren't everyday, run-of-the-mill puzzles. We're talking 2,000, 3,000 and 5,000 pieces. It was a fun, togetherness-type of activity, which filled the evenings in a world with only 4 TV channels, no computers and no video games.

We got pretty good at it. My parents would buy the hardest puzzles they could find, and we would blow right through them. I have a vague memory of disliking round puzzles, because they always seemed to be extra difficult for me.

Mom did not like it when we would zip through a puzzle too quickly, and sometimes she would do things to ensure that it would last a few days - or longer.  Here are a few of her evil tricky techniques that she employed:

1) As soon as she brought out a new puzzle, she would dump it on the table, and rush off to her bedroom - with the box. She would then hide the box and come back with a wicked grin. From there, we would have to work on the puzzle with absolutely no idea what it was supposed to look like.

2) After we would go to bed, she would secretly take a half-dozen pieces from off the table and hide them. We would spend HOURS looking for the one piece to complete an edge - and eventually give up - only to find the piece in its rightful place the next day.

3) Occasionally, we would come home from school and find the puzzle pieces had been mysteriously turned over; brown-side-up. Yes, we would have to do the entire puzzle with no picture at all. The only thing we could go by was the shape of each piece. It was brutal, but challenging.

Because of this odd practice in my home, putting together a puzzle has never been very difficult for me. I definitely learned that it is far simpler to put together a puzzle when you have a clear image of what the end result is supposed to look like - otherwise you are flying "blind" and end up having to resort to the trial-and-error method.

It is a simple enough concept, but one that embodies one of the greatest blessings I enjoy as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  The simplicity of the lyrics show us the basic outline of the picture to be painted:

I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
I know who I am
I know God's plan
I'll follow Him in faith

That simple outline of life's purpose is something that the majority of the world does not enjoy. Many do not know there is a plan for them - a picture of what their life could be. Some have a hint of an outline, or have started linking together a few of the pieces, but many of them are desperately trying to find more of the pieces, and pound them into place. They are truly puzzled. The puzzle of existence can feel particularly cruel when the final result is not understood or envisioned. Many presume that since they can't see the picture, then there must not be one, and since there isn't one, there needn't be an Artist.

I have an image in my mind of what my life is supposed to look like  - even as I am trying to put it together.
I am not working with a blank canvas.

I can see the patterns, the colors, and the shapes, and understand how they fit together.

I have been shown glimpses of the entire picture, and can refer to it as often as I need to.

I know there is someone who loves me that knows where the missing pieces are.

I know He will also help me fit them together.

These blessing come from multiple sources, each drawing on the knowledge of the very Artist that created me. He helps me find the pieces and pull them together to create what my life is to become. I learn from prophets that enlighten me, leaders who teach me, blessings that come to me through priesthood holders and patriarchs, the singular beauty of the temple, and a trusted friend in the Holy Ghost.

Supported by this personal spiritual army, I work to put the pieces together to create the image that God wants for me. His image. There are times when the pieces seem to be lost, and times when they don't seem to fit. But they will not always be lost - they will be found, and they will eventually fit together.

And sometimes we struggle with the puzzle, even while refusing to look at the box that is right in front of us. We search for the right pieces, we try and pound the wrong ones into place out of frustration - when the Artist would willingly show us the picture - if we would just ask - or look up. Sometimes He will unveil it all at once, sometimes more gradually - as He sees fit. He wants us to see the big picture.

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know, even as also I am known. (1 Corinthians 13:12)
...Line upon line.
...Piece by piece.

Please listen...


"He Knows Me Better" by Jenessa Buttars.

(My EC and I stumbled upon this song from one of my son's EFY CDs from last year. It is written and performed by a lovely young lady named Jenessa Buttars. I tracked her down on Facebook and she sweetly gave me permission to use this song in this post. Thanks Jenessa! Her music is not for sale yet, but you can visit her page if you want to hear more:  http://www.facebook.com/jenessabuttarsmusic)

TMI: Keepin' it Clean

This is the second post I have written that contains the word urinal. The first one is located here. It had a happy ending. This one is harder to categorize.

I apologize in advance.

You know the drill: The entire family is on the open road, finally making good time, when someone needs to go to the bathroom.

Now!

As a father, my responsibility is to interrogate the person requesting the stop, in order to gauge the sincerity and urgency of the need. When the proper threshold has been met, you begin to look for a bathroom - or a place to pull over. (This is one area in life where boys have a distinct advantage over girls.)

It is at this time that my EC will asks her question: If we stop there to use the bathroom, shouldn't we buy something? Her concern is the same, whether we are stopping at a gas station, convenience store, or fast food outlet. This is because she is just and kind by nature. And also a little bit chicken that someone might yell at her for using the bathroom without buying something.

Here is my philosophy on the subject: I believe that I have put enough money into the McDonald's Universe, that I have earned the right to unlimited, lifetime bathroom breaks. So, I have no moral conflict about it.

Where I am conflicted is that it is hard to find a public restroom that is not vile. (Again, boys have a distinct advantage in area of emerging from a disgusting bathroom uncontaminated.)

Last weekend we were on a family road trip when we needed to make a stop. No, it wasn't my EC, or any of the FOMLs. It was me. Apparently I can't hold a 44oz like I used to back in the day. Must be an age thing. TMI? Look at the title - I warned you!

We found a place to stop. I won't say the name, but they want me to "have it my way". On a scale of 1-10, the restroom was about a 5. Not quite toxic, but not somewhere I desire to spend much time.

I did my business, then walked over to the sink to wash up. There was only one sink, and it was in use. A young man was busily washing his hands. Soap, water, scrub, scrub scrub, rinse. Then he started over - soap, water, scrub, scrub, scrub, rinse.

I thought this guy must be prepping for surgery or something. Or, maybe he is just thorough. Or maybe he knows that the CDC - Center for Disease control says that to be effective, you have to wash, with soap, for at least 20 seconds? 20 seconds  is a LONG time. Don't believe me? Start counting now. They also say that anti-bacterial soap makes no difference. (Here is a link to their handwashing page, if you need convincing)

Sorry, back to the story.  I'm still standing there, waiting for my chance to wash, when Mister OCD hit the soap and started washing for a  third time. I began to feel a a cross between impatient and unclean.

Finally he finished, and moved over to the jet-engine hand dryer mounted on the wall, as I stepped up to the sink. I spent a good 10 seconds washing, and we both finished at the same time. 

As I stepped up to take my turn at the dryer, he turned and walked...to the urinal - and unzipped.

I thought "Whaaa?"

I was baffled. But by the time my hands were dry, and I was reaching for the scary doorknob, it began to make sense.

Think about it.

LDS humorist Mormon humor

Ancient Technology

My EC and I returned home from an extended road-trip yesterday. (That's why I have been M.I.A. - and I am so sorry- not really) As we were flying down the freeway at the precise speed limit, my wife was reading an email and chatting on her iPhone. I was listening to music that was streaming from my phone via bluetooth to the car's sound system. I was also tracking the weather satellite and the trip directions on my phone. The technology that we were utilizing was ridiculously cool, if you stop and think about it.

I brought up the idea of how great it would be if you could go back in time and give the LDS pioneer companies a dozen fully functioning iPhones back in the mid-1800s. They could check the weather, communicate with each other, check directions and look at maps, log their progress. The technology that we use every day would have made a huge difference in their lives.

A few weeks ago we were sitting around the kitchen table after Sunday dinner, discussing the Liahona. For a quick memory refresher, read Nephi's description in 1 Nephi, 16: 10, 16, 28 & 29
And it came to pass that as my father arose in the morning, and went forth to the tent door, to his great astonishment he beheld upon the ground a round ball of curious workmanship; and it was of fine brass. And within the ball were two spindles; and the one pointed the way whither we should go into the wilderness.

And we did follow the directions of the ball, which led us in the more fertile parts of the wilderness.

And it came to pass that I, Nephi, beheld the pointers which were in the ball, that they did work according to the faith and diligence and heed which we did give unto them.

And there was also written upon them a new writing, which was plain to be read, which did give us understanding concerning the ways of the Lord; and it was written and changed from time to time, according to the faith and diligence which we gave unto it. And thus we see that by small means the Lord can bring about great things.

SPECULATION ALERT!  This is a warning that the following is just some thoughts about the Liahona, and some ideas that came up at the dinner table discussion. You have been warned. None of us really know very much about the Liahona, and talking about it raises more questions than it does answers.

a) What a cool piece of technology! Remember, this was several hundred years before the Chinese invented the first compass. Dual spindles to show the way? Why two? This would be as amazing to Lehi as an iPhone would be to the pioneers.

b) The spindles only worked according to the faith and diligence of the people using it. I am so glad my technology does not demand that of me. AT&T drops enough of my calls already.

c) I think the most fascinating thing about the Liahona is that it had text fields where writing would appear. Nephi said that it had a written display that was plain to be read, and changed from time to time. Writing? Status updates? Dare we say celestial "tweets"?

d) I wonder if the status updates ever said things like "Untie your brother and knock it off."

e) Nephi and Lehi never refer to it as "The Liahona". They call it the ball or compass. It wasn't until much later that Alma describes it as "Liahona" - not "The Liahona" (See Alma's discussion about Liahona below)

f) I would like to think that Liahona is securely stored in a vault somewhere in SLC, but maybe I've just seen Raiders of the Lost Ark too many times. (I warned you about the speculation)

And one of the big topics of discussion around the table:

g) Where did it come from? Alma suggests that it was too complex for any man to have made it. (Alma 37:39) Nephi and Alma both refer to it as curious workmanship. But someone made it.  Here is where we discussed two possibilities:

a) The Lord had somebody make it per his specs, and leave it at Lehi's tent. (This would be a fascinating side story in its own right) Possible? Why not? If the Lord could reveal to Nephi how to build a ship, I imagine he could instruct someone to construct a Liahona. (Honey? What are you working on, and why is it taking so long?  I'm not sure dear, but it's really complicated, and I have to get it done and leave it by some guy's tent in the desert before tomorrow morning.)

or

b) It was made and delivered by heavenly beings/messengers. If Alma is correct, and it wasn't something man could have made, it would have to be heavenly in origin.  As we discussed this possibility, I asked my sons if they could think of any other time in scripture or modern time where the Lord has delivered a completed piece of technology to man. We talked about the stones with the brother of Jared, we talked about manna in the wilderness, but we were hard pressed to think of a situation to compare to the finding of the Liahona. Ideas?


SPECULATION OVER!

It really doesn't matter where the Liahona came from, or where it went. It doesn't even matter how it worked. It does matter that it DID work. Most importantly, it got Lehi and his family where they needed to go, and left us with an enduring metaphor to teach important gospel principles.

Rather than expound on what lessons of the Liahona are to me, I figure I will let Alma do it. He saw the beauty of the Liahona as an way to teach the gospel to his son Helaman. (Alma 37:38-45)

38 And now, my son, I have somewhat to say concerning the thing which our fathers call a ball, or director—or our fathers called it Liahona, which is, being interpreted, a compass; and the Lord prepared it.

 39 And behold, there cannot any man work after the manner of so curious a workmanship. And behold, it was prepared to show unto our fathers the course which they should travel in the wilderness.

 40 And it did work for them according to their faith in God; therefore, if they had faith to believe that God could cause that those spindles should point the way they should go, behold, it was done; therefore they had this miracle, and also many other miracles wrought by the power of God, day by day.

 41 Nevertheless, because those miracles were worked by small means it did show unto them marvelous works. They were slothful, and forgot to exercise their faith and diligence and then those marvelous works ceased, and they did not progress in their journey;

 42 Therefore, they tarried in the wilderness, or did not travel a direct course, and were afflicted with hunger and thirst, because of their transgressions.

 43 And now, my son, I would that ye should understand that these things are not without a shadow; for as our fathers were slothful to give heed to this compass (now these things were temporal) they did not prosper; even so it is with things which are spiritual.

 44 For behold, it is as easy to give heed to the word of Christ, which will point to you a straight course to eternal bliss, as it was for our fathers to give heed to this compass, which would point unto them a straight course to the promised land.

 45 And now I say, is there not a type in this thing? For just as surely as this director did bring our fathers, by following its course, to the promised land, shall the words of Christ, if we follow their course, carry us beyond this vale of sorrow into a far better land of promise.

Amen.