Sunday, February 20, 2011
Karey White: EVENTS
Karey White: EVENTS: "Book Signing at Murray Costco February 26, 2011, 11:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. 5201 South Intermountain Drive, Murray, UT"
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
Deep thoughts
I got this quote today , and it really is deep and I want to save it for contemplation.
“…The Lord indicates a…serious problem with harboring an unforgiving heart: ‘Wherefore, I say unto you, that ye ought to forgive one another; for he that forgiveth not his brother his trespasses standeth condemned before the Lord; for there remaineth in him the greater sin.’ (D&C 64:9.) Is the Lord truly saying that refusing to forgive another is a greater sin than the offense committed against us? Yes. Truman Madsen suggests one reason for this: In refusing to forgive another, we, in effect, attempt to deny the blessings of the Atonement to that person: ‘You may have reached the point of desperation in your own life when you have prayed and yearned for forgiveness of your own guilt and sin. But then you turn and say, ‘But not him! Don’t you forgive him! I’m not going to, he doesn’t deserve it.’ You will then close the channel of love and compassion and revelation from the Lord. You seek to nullify His atonement for others. It is like triple plate steel against water.’
[Truman G. Madsen, “On Forgiveness,” address delivered at the annual LDS Social Services Seminar, 3 Aug. 1978, Logan, Utah]” Roderick J. Linton, Ensign, Apr. 1993, 15
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Trying to win a book!
I want to win a book, so I'm posting this link! Go to it and see what you think!
http://donaldjcarey.com/2011/01/its-contest-time-two-for-one-special.html
http://donaldjcarey.com/2011/01/its-contest-time-two-for-one-special.html
Monday, November 22, 2010
This story kind of touched my heart. Please remember it when I get old!
CHEYENNE
By Catherine Moore
'Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!' My father yelled at me. 'Can't you do anything right?' Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A
'Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!' My father yelled at me. 'Can't you do anything right?' Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A
lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle..
'I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.' My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.
Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder
Seemed to echo my inner turmoil.
What could I do about him?
Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often.. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess. The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him a bout his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.
Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived...
But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone.. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders.
Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether.. Dad was left alone.
My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody.. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.
The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics
Listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenl y exclaimed, 'I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.' I listened as she read.. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.
I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons, too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the
Last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.
I pointed to the dog. 'Can you tell me about him?' The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement.
'He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him, that was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.' He gestured helplessly.
As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. 'You mean you're going to kill him?'
'Ma'am,' he said gently, 'that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed
Dog.'
I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision.. 'I'll take him,' I said.
I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.
'Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!' I said excitedly..
Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. 'If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it' Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.
Anger rose inside me.. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples..
'You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!' Dad ignored me. 'Did you hear me, Dad?' I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.
We stood
glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw..
Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal..
It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointerCheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.
Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne 's cold nose
burrowing through our bed covers... He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.
Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.
The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life.. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. 'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.'
'I've often thanked God for sending that angel,' he said.
For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article.
Cheyenne 's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . .his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all. Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.
And if you don't send this to at least 4 people - who cares? But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be found.
'I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.' My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.
Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder
Seemed to echo my inner turmoil.
What could I do about him?
Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often.. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess. The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him a bout his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.
Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived...
But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone.. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders.
Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether.. Dad was left alone.
My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody.. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.
The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics
Listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenl y exclaimed, 'I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.' I listened as she read.. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.
I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons, too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the
Last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.
I pointed to the dog. 'Can you tell me about him?' The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement.
'He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him, that was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.' He gestured helplessly.
As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. 'You mean you're going to kill him?'
'Ma'am,' he said gently, 'that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed
Dog.'
I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision.. 'I'll take him,' I said.
I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.
'Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!' I said excitedly..
Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. 'If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it' Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.
Anger rose inside me.. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples..
'You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!' Dad ignored me. 'Did you hear me, Dad?' I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.
We stood
glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw..
Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal..
It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointerCheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.
Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne 's cold nose
burrowing through our bed covers... He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.
Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.
The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life.. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. 'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.'
'I've often thanked God for sending that angel,' he said.
For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article.
Cheyenne 's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . .his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all. Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.
And if you don't send this to at least 4 people - who cares? But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be found.
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
I am asking for all of your help! Please keep your eyes open for something you think would work for our tree. The theme this year is A Patchwork Christmas and our colors will be red and green. Golds will be fine as well. My first thought is to have some kind of patchwork hearts as ornaments on the tree. We also need items for around the tree and tree skirt. Does anyone know of a pre-lit 7 1/2 tree that can be donated. We can buy one if necessary, but a donated one would leave us more to spend on the tree. Please, if you see something that you think will work, send me a picture on my cell phone, 801-512-5838. Also, if you want to help decorate, that is on November 29th at the SouthTowne Center in Sandy. Let me know if you have any questions.
Thanks
Thanks
Monday, July 12, 2010
Way too long!
Life keeps catching up and I realize it's been way too long since my last blog. I don't really have much to say, except I'm busy.
My daughter, Stephanie let us know that her Brother in Law, Scott had died on Friday night of an apparent drug overdose. He had been doing better after dealing with an addiction to pain killers, and was even at a camp-out for members of a Narcotics Anonymous Group he belonged to. It has devastated their whole family. My love and prayers go out to the as they struggle to deal with this loss. Scott, I know you are now free from your trials.
My daughter, Stephanie let us know that her Brother in Law, Scott had died on Friday night of an apparent drug overdose. He had been doing better after dealing with an addiction to pain killers, and was even at a camp-out for members of a Narcotics Anonymous Group he belonged to. It has devastated their whole family. My love and prayers go out to the as they struggle to deal with this loss. Scott, I know you are now free from your trials.
Monday, May 03, 2010
Here's a great blog to follow!
This Blog is for the Salt Lake County Healthy Lifestyles program, but it is wonderful. It has some fantastic ideas to increase your wellness in every area of your life!
http://taylib2.blogspot.com
http://taylib2.blogspot.com
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
One of my favorite quotes!
Our Deepest Fear
by Marianne Williamson
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.
We were all born to manifest the glory of God within us. It’s not just some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.
-Marianne Williamson from her bestselling book A Return to Love
Thursday, January 28, 2010
It's been a while...
I just realized how long it's been since I've posted on my blog. There's been a lot going on. A lot of people have died that I knew, and it's made me much more aware of the condition of my body. I am now using a Wii Fit to exercise most every day. It's fun and good for me, too! I am also trying to eat better, like more fruits and vegetables and less fatty food. Also less portions. I am signed up with the County's Wellness campaign to keep me motivated. I know it's not doing me any good to keep all the extra weight on, so I am doing some things to change that. Life goes on in the Library and at home. Our upstairs bathroom is being remodeled and I am excited to see the finished product! I am sure it will be beautiful!!!!!
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Yesterday
Yesterday, November 23rd was the one year anniversary since my father's death. I couldn't remember the date for sure, so I didn't even realize it until later in the day when I checked into new.familysearch.org. There it was, and it hit me how much I miss him. I miss his yearly calls on my birthday. I miss his hugs whenever we were together. I miss the story of how he could hold me in in his hand when I was tiny. I miss his asking Val and I to sing every time we were on a trip somewhere. He was proud of all of us and our children and he loved us all immensely. His love spread to all his children and grandchildren through his several marriages. There were no boundaries. He claimed us all! He had a very vast influence on the lives of many people! I will miss you Daddy!
Monday, November 16, 2009
Win a book for Christmas
Go to a friend's blog and win a book!
http://jdp-news.blogspot.com/2009/11/lets-celebrate-season-with-contest.html
http://jdp-news.blogspot.com/2009/11/lets-celebrate-season-with-contest.html
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Procrastination Family!
Let's face it! We are all a family of Procrastinators! I have realized of late how important it is we get this next generation ready...They need copies of the genealogy I've done and any stories we have or it will get lost! We recently got a new hard drive for this computer and we forgot to get the info off the paf on the old one. I realized I may have to retype in all the info, but then I looked on rootsweb and found a lot of it there, so I was able to download it. I still need to update any dates and births and more recent things, but at least I was able to get most of it. I had saved my info on diskettes, but this computer would not read them anymore!!!! Technology changes so quickly and we need to copy our info into the newest things. Flash drives are not even safe! Hard copies on paper may be the best back-up available.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Halloween costuming!
It never fails! October comes and someone needs a costume! I was about to start making myslef a cape, when Cory asked me to make him a Dr. Horrible Lab coat! Well, it hasn't been going very smoothly, but I think it will work out, even better than the one some guy made. His instructions on the internet are kind of hard to follow, and I think he didn't do an important part, so I am adding to it. We also needed a caduceus and finally found a uniform shop that would make the emblem. It turned out pretty nice, and it will make a great addition to the costume! Maybe after I get his done, I'll have time to make my cape, we'll see!
Friday, September 25, 2009
My thoughts
These are some of my thoughts I shared on a news story about Paul Cardall's recent heart transplant. Someone made a comment about how we can be grateful for trials the Lord gives us with a diseased heart and other such trials. These were the thoughts I shared, to hopefully make a difference in that person's life.
___________________________________________________________________
I am one who is grateful for my health. I had surgery when I was 5 years old to repair a VSD. I now am the proud mother of seven and grandmother of seven. I am listed as a donor and one of our daughters, who passed away 7 years ago was able to be a tissue donor. I know what I felt after Hanna's death, when I was asked if we wanted her to be a donor. My response was an immediate "Yes!". I knew that during her short life, living with her disabilities, her favorite thing to do was to help others, so she would have chosen this, no doubts at all!
Sometimes in life we have to wonder why we were given these trials. Sometimes it is for our growth, and other times it is for the growth and blessings received when someone shows their unselfishness through organ donation! I am thankful for my life, and the doctors who made it possible for me to be a mother and to realize how important our sacrifices are.
___________________________________________________________________
I am one who is grateful for my health. I had surgery when I was 5 years old to repair a VSD. I now am the proud mother of seven and grandmother of seven. I am listed as a donor and one of our daughters, who passed away 7 years ago was able to be a tissue donor. I know what I felt after Hanna's death, when I was asked if we wanted her to be a donor. My response was an immediate "Yes!". I knew that during her short life, living with her disabilities, her favorite thing to do was to help others, so she would have chosen this, no doubts at all!
Sometimes in life we have to wonder why we were given these trials. Sometimes it is for our growth, and other times it is for the growth and blessings received when someone shows their unselfishness through organ donation! I am thankful for my life, and the doctors who made it possible for me to be a mother and to realize how important our sacrifices are.
Give Away
Want a great new book to read. Check this out!
http://annebradshaw.blogspot.com/2009/09/give-away-author-shirley-bahlmanns.html
http://annebradshaw.blogspot.com/2009/09/give-away-author-shirley-bahlmanns.html
Monday, September 21, 2009
Some thoughts...
Yesterday we had Stake Conference and it was so good. One thing that impressed me was when we had a Young Man speak who is the President of the Seminary Council. He shared such a beautiful and heartfelt testimony!
Anyway, he shared his feelings about a special assembly they did for Seminary and he called it the Iron Rod Assembly. I think it was arranged by the teachers. He said on the day of the assembly, they were only letting the students in one or two at a time about every 30 seconds or so. When he got his turn, he walked into a totally pitch black building, except for a glow stick by the end of a rod (made out of PVC pipe). Once he started following the rod, with his hand on it, there was no light. He followed the rod for a while, and after a while he came to someone who said to come in and play the Wii. He chose to go on. Then another person wanted him to go see a movie. There were other temptations along the way as well. He held on and kept wanting to tell his friends who strayed to hold on, but some wouldn't listen. When he finally got to the end, he came to a room filled with light. He was welcomed there by the Seminary Principal. He was very affected by this whole experience, I could tell in his remarks.
They had rooms along the way where the temptations were set up, like the Wii and a movie, and other things. It sounds like the rod led all around the Seminary building.
This sounds a lot like something I did on a ropes course several years ago, but outside, and we had to put on blindfolds. We were told it was a silent event and to hold onto a rope. That rope led all over and wrapped around trees and through bushes. We were given an egg to carry, early on our trek, and told to pick something important to us for it to represent and keep it safe. We followed the rope for a while, when someone asked if he could hold our egg for us, or said come with me, and I'll take you to the end.. I remember feeling that my egg represented my family and how I couldn't let anything happen to them. I fiercely held onto that egg and wouldn't listen to the tempters. I struggled to follow the rope, even through knots and wrappings on tree trunks. At one time, I allowed someone to put my hand on the next line, when it got really confusing, but it was hard for me to let go of the rope. They were true to their word, and helped me. When I finally got to the end of the rope, we had been told to hold out our arms and someone would be there. I did and was immediately given a huge hug and told "Welcome home!". I equated this with returning to our Father in Heaven and was overcome with emotion. I was led to a circle of logs and helped to sit down. There was soft music playing and when I felt someone else who had finished and placed next to me, we hugged and held on to each other tightly and did the same as others were placed by us. Still no speaking allowed. We sat there until our group members were all done, at which time we were allowed to take off our blindfolds and share our feelings. Tears are coming to me now as I relive this experience from 15 years ago!
Anyway, he shared his feelings about a special assembly they did for Seminary and he called it the Iron Rod Assembly. I think it was arranged by the teachers. He said on the day of the assembly, they were only letting the students in one or two at a time about every 30 seconds or so. When he got his turn, he walked into a totally pitch black building, except for a glow stick by the end of a rod (made out of PVC pipe). Once he started following the rod, with his hand on it, there was no light. He followed the rod for a while, and after a while he came to someone who said to come in and play the Wii. He chose to go on. Then another person wanted him to go see a movie. There were other temptations along the way as well. He held on and kept wanting to tell his friends who strayed to hold on, but some wouldn't listen. When he finally got to the end, he came to a room filled with light. He was welcomed there by the Seminary Principal. He was very affected by this whole experience, I could tell in his remarks.
They had rooms along the way where the temptations were set up, like the Wii and a movie, and other things. It sounds like the rod led all around the Seminary building.
This sounds a lot like something I did on a ropes course several years ago, but outside, and we had to put on blindfolds. We were told it was a silent event and to hold onto a rope. That rope led all over and wrapped around trees and through bushes. We were given an egg to carry, early on our trek, and told to pick something important to us for it to represent and keep it safe. We followed the rope for a while, when someone asked if he could hold our egg for us, or said come with me, and I'll take you to the end.. I remember feeling that my egg represented my family and how I couldn't let anything happen to them. I fiercely held onto that egg and wouldn't listen to the tempters. I struggled to follow the rope, even through knots and wrappings on tree trunks. At one time, I allowed someone to put my hand on the next line, when it got really confusing, but it was hard for me to let go of the rope. They were true to their word, and helped me. When I finally got to the end of the rope, we had been told to hold out our arms and someone would be there. I did and was immediately given a huge hug and told "Welcome home!". I equated this with returning to our Father in Heaven and was overcome with emotion. I was led to a circle of logs and helped to sit down. There was soft music playing and when I felt someone else who had finished and placed next to me, we hugged and held on to each other tightly and did the same as others were placed by us. Still no speaking allowed. We sat there until our group members were all done, at which time we were allowed to take off our blindfolds and share our feelings. Tears are coming to me now as I relive this experience from 15 years ago!
Thursday, September 10, 2009
What a day!
We decided before coming to Las Vegas, that we wanted to go to the Las Vegas Temple, so that's what we did this morning. We got there and got ready, but we just missed the 8:30 am session, so we waited for the next at 9am. We were quietly sitting there, and one of the brethren came up to us and asked us to be the witness couple. This is the first time we have ever had this honor, and all because we missed the other session. There weren't a lot of people in the session, and very few couples. That may be why we got picked. It was a very spiritual time and I spent a lot of time praying for the sister who's work I was doing. Her name was Molly Legan, born in Kansas in, I think 1841. I may go to family search to see if I can find out more about her. Peter's name was Gustave Gaston, with no further info on the slip. I read an article by Susan Corpany Curtis on Meridian earlier that showed how important family stories are in helping you to know an ancestor better. I have written some in a journal over the years, but I know I need to write more. Blogging is a good way to do that. Families are forever!
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
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