In contrast to the institutions of the world, which teach us to know something, the gospel of Jesus Christ challenges us to become something

Our needed conversions are often achieved more readily by suffering and adversity than by comfort and tranquillity. Lehi promised his son Jacob that God would “consecrate [his] afflictions for [his] gain” (2 Ne. 2:2). The Prophet Joseph was promised that “thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; and then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high” (D&C 121:7–8).

Most of us experience some measure of what the scriptures call “the furnace of affliction” (Isa. 48:10; 1 Ne. 20:10). Some are submerged in service to a disadvantaged family member. Others suffer the death of a loved one or the loss or postponement of a righteous goal like marriage or childbearing. Still others struggle with personal impairments or with feelings of rejection, inadequacy, or depression. Through the justice and mercy of a loving Father in Heaven, the refinement and sanctification possible through such experiences can help us achieve what God desires us to become.

We are challenged to move through a process of conversion toward that status and condition called eternal life. This is achieved not just by doing what is right, but by doing it for the right reason—for the pure love of Christ. The Apostle Paul illustrated this in his famous teaching about the importance of charity (see 1 Cor. 13). The reason charity never fails and the reason charity is greater than even the most significant acts of goodness he cited is that charity, “the pure love of Christ” (Moro. 7:47), is not an act but a condition or state of being. Charity is attained through a succession of acts that result in a conversion. Charity is something one becomes. Thus, as Moroni declared, “except men shall have charity they cannot inherit” the place prepared for them in the mansions of the Father (Ether 12:34; emphasis added).

Dallin H. Oaks

“The Challenge to Become”

Ensign, Nov 2000

Faith

Faith is taking the first step even when you can't see the whole staircase.

Martin Luther King Jr.

The Farmer & the Mule

This parable is told of a farmer who owned an old mule. The mule fell into the farmer's well. The farmer heard the mule praying (or whatever mules do when they fall into wells). After carefully assessing the situation, the farmer sympathized with the mule, but decided that neither the mule nor the well was worth the trouble of saving. Instead, he called his neighbors together, told them what had happened, and enlisted them to help haul dirt to bury the old mule in the well and put him out of his misery.

Initially the old mule was hysterical! But as the farmer and his neighbors continued shoveling and the dirt hit his back, a thought struck him. It suddenly dawned on him that every time a shovel load of dirt landed on his back, he would shake it off and step up!

This he did, blow after blow. "Shake it off and step up...shake it off and step up...shake it off and step up!" he repeated to encourage himself. No matter how painful the blows, or how distressing the situation seemed, the old mule fought panic and just kept right on shaking it off and stepping up!

It wasn't long before the old mule, battered and exhausted, stepped triumphantly over the wall of that well. What seemed like it would bury him actually helped him...all because of the manner in which he handled his adversity.

Facing Challenges with Faith in God

Life is hard. It is a challenge. At every age life presents trials to bear and difficulties to overcome. Growing up is hard. There are often the heartaches of feeling wronged or rejected. Pursuing an education can press us to our financial, emotional, and intellectual limits. Serving a mission is not easy. It requires total dedication, spiritually and physically. The problems accompanying marriage, rearing a family, earning a living, or coping with illness, old age, and death are realities of life which we are required to meet, but with which we may be unprepared or unwilling to deal.

We will be able to face and solve these challenges more willingly and courageously when we understand that such obstacles are encountered as a natural part of living.

C. S. Lewis wrote: “The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one’s ‘own,’ or ‘real’ life. The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one’s real life—the life God is sending one day by day.” (They Stand Together: The Letters of C. S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves, ed. Walter Hooper, London: Collins, 1979, p. 499.)

An old Asian tale describes a prince who was reared in a castle and kept sheltered from the hardships of life. He never saw anyone who was ill. He never saw anyone who was aged. He never saw anyone die.

When the prince grew to be a young man, he desired to go out into the kingdom he ruled. As he was being carried along on a litter, he saw for the first time an old man, toothless, wrinkled, and bent with age.

The prince said to his bearers, “Stop! Wait! What is this?”

The chief bearer replied, “This is a man who is bent with age. Though you are young and strong, the time will come when you too must be bent with age.”

This disheartened the prince. His confrontation with aging was more than he could bear. He asked to be taken back to the castle.

After a few days in familiar surroundings he felt rejuvenated. He decided to venture forth again. This time as he passed by a group of men he noticed that one of them was on the ground, overcome with fever and convulsing in pain.

“What is this?” the prince asked.

“This is a man who is ill,” said the porter. “Though you are now young and strong, you too will have to suffer the problems of sickness.”

The prince was again saddened and returned immediately to the palace. But again in a few days, he wanted to visit his kingdom once more.

They hadn’t gone far from the castle when the prince saw a coffin being carried to its place of burial.

“What is this?” he asked.

When the meaning of death was explained to the inquiring young prince, he became depressed by the inevitable vision of the future. As he returned to the immediate comfort of his palace, he vowed he would never come out again.

The prince interpreted life to be an evil trick because no matter what a man did or what a man was, he had to suffer sickness, aging, and death.

Perhaps some of us feel about life the way the young prince in this fable did. We may feel that life is cruel and unfair to us, that we would like to retreat into our own shelter and never have to venture forth into the world. To do so, however, would be to deny ourselves the opportunities for growth which life and its experiences are designed to bring to us.

The Lord has made available to us a power which will turn these challenges into opportunities, a power which will enable us to understand the Apostle Peter’s declaration that such trials of our faith are indeed more precious than gold. (See 1 Pet. 1:7.)

With life’s hardships I have learned that faith in God develops a personal love for Him which is reciprocated through his blessings to us in times of need. To all who are meeting new or challenging times, I say: Do not fear the challenges of life, but approach them patiently, with faith in God. He will reward your faith with power not only to endure, but also to overcome hardships, disappointments, trials, and struggles of daily living. Through diligently striving to live the law of God and with faith in Him, we will not be diverted from our eternal course either by the ways or the praise of the world.

May each of us develop faith in God sufficient to fight the battles of life victoriously “with the strength of God; yea, … with [His] miraculous strength; and … mighty power.” (Alma 56:56.) We will then find the happiness we so much desire in our lives.

Rex D. Pinegar

“Faith—The Force of Life,”

Ensign, Nov 1982

Blanket for Aunt Wanda

Yesterday, my mom and I had the privilege of delivering a blanket to my Aunt Wanda, my mother's eldest sister. Wanda resides in an Assisted Care Center.

In order to fully appreciate this experience, let me share a little history about this woman. Wanda is Carole's mother. The one I recently wrote about who got in a car accident when she was 16 and spent the remainder of her life in a wheelchair under the care of her mother. Now you may ask ..."What about Carole's father? Didn't he help care for his daughter?" Well, Art, Wanda's husband, died of a heart attack about 7 years after Carole's accident. Wanda was left to care for her crippled daughter and 2 sons on her own.

Even prior to Carole's accident, Wanda's childhood had it's own twists and turns. As a young child, she had experiences that left her feeling displaced and rejected... something she never came to understand or make peace with. It was an underlying current her entire life that was probably buried deep in her soul while so much of her time and energy was spent caring for her daughter.

However, after Carol died, there was a huge void in Wanda's life. She had always been a spunky woman but as she has aged she has become a little "cranky" and "bitter". She has many health issues and has felt frustrated as doctors have not always been able to ease her pain. Addressing issues from her past has been too uncomfortable and painful to confront. She has become demanding of family members who live near by (one son lives in Utah with his family while the other moved to Arizona). In her old age, when she needs her family the most, she has nearly driven them all away. God bless her son Earl who tries so hard to comfort his mother while she makes it so difficult. My mother and Aunt Janet, Wanda's two younger sisters, are incredibly patient and committed to loving and helping their older sister...through good times and bad times.

So, back to delivering the blanket... My mother has vacillated back and forth for many weeks on whether or not Wanda would appreciate this blanket. Finally, yesterday we decided to make the delivery. We gave her a blanket in her favorite color...red. Who would have guessed just how much she would love and appreciate that blanket? She could not quit talking about how soft it was. She recently had surgery on her arm and said it was perfectly soft for her wounded arm. She is sure that her arm will heal quicker now that she has such a soft surface! She was noticeably touched by this gift of hope & comfort. My mother & I were both relieved and thrilled that it was so well received.

As we left the care center, I reflected on all these blankets & dogs that have been delivered over the past 4 months. I can only hope that each item has provided their recipient that much hope, comfort & love!

Fond farewell to Larry H. Miller

Larry H. Miller is a man who has done such incredible things and made such a huge impact on our community. Just shortly after he had his legs amputated from type II diabetes, I felt inspired to provide him one one of Jason's blankets of hope & comfort. The tricky part...how would I get it to him? After asking around for a day or two, I was still unsure how to make it happen. While I could guess which hospital he was in, I couldn't use any of my Intermountain connections to find out for sure. After hitting a dead end (or two), I happened to mention my idea to Janet (Jason's mom). She responded, "Oh I know Gail (Larry's wife). I can get it to him." With the help of Janet, and her sister Nancy, the blanket was delivered about 3-4 weeks ago.

I was touched as I listened to his tribute on the television yesterday -- I never really knew HOW MUCH he had done for our community. Most impressive was the 300 college scholarships per year. He wanted to give others the opportunity to further their education so they could give back to their communities. He was a huge proponent of teachers and providing exceptional educational experiences as witnessed with his involvement with the Clark Planetarium.

As I listened to his wife and children in their press conference last night, what impressed me most was how motivated and driven he was to "do good". Gail shared a phrase that Larry lived by which I really loved..."Go about doing good until there is too much good in the world".

Thanks for reading!

Finding Joy in the Journey

Throughout our lives, we must deal with change. Some changes are welcome; some are not. There are changes in our lives which are sudden, such as the unexpected passing of a loved one, an unforeseen illness, the loss of a possession we treasure. But most of the changes take place subtly and slowly.

This is our one and only chance at mortal life—here and now. The longer we live, the greater is our realization that it is brief. Opportunities come, and then they are gone. I believe that among the greatest lessons we are to learn in this short sojourn upon the earth are lessons that help us distinguish between what is important and what is not. I plead with you not to let those most important things pass you by as you plan for that illusive and nonexistent future when you will have time to do all that you want to do. Instead, find joy in the journey—now.

President Thomas S. Monson

President/Prophet of LDS Church

November 2008 Ensign

Hope vs Despair

The scriptures say that there must be “an opposition in all things.” So it is with faith, hope, and charity. Doubt, despair, and failure to care for our fellowmen lead us into temptation, which can cause us to forfeit choice and precious blessings.

The adversary uses despair to bind hearts and minds in suffocating darkness. Despair drains from us all that is vibrant and joyful and leaves behind the empty remnants of what life was meant to be. Despair kills ambition, advances sickness, pollutes the soul, and deadens the heart. Despair can seem like a staircase that leads only and forever downward.

Hope, on the other hand, is like the beam of sunlight rising up and above the horizon of our present circumstances. It pierces the darkness with a brilliant dawn. It encourages and inspires us to place our trust in the loving care of an eternal Heavenly Father, who has prepared a way for those who seek for eternal truth in a world of relativism, confusion, and of fear.

President Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Second Counselor in the First Presidency

"The Infinite Power of Hope"

Ensign, November 2008

Body & Soul

On February 13th, Jason wrote "My soul, inside of me, is forever grateful for the chance to 'come back' and live a life. My physical body, the vehicle that I'm traveling around in, doesn't always work the way that I'd like it to, but in no way is it 'who I am'."

I really appreciated Jason's keen perspective on our body and soul (or spirit). For most of us, they work in unison. I think it's something those of us who are healthy, take seriously for granted. What an incredible gift and blessing to have our body do what our spirit desires?

When I read this, my thoughts turned to my cousin Carole. Carole Ann Glover was born on April 30, 1941. She was a beautiful young woman with hopes & dreams for her future.

On May 22, 1957, Carole (age 16) and 5 of her friends were out for a pleasure ride on the last day of school. Their car spun out of control and rammed a bridge abutment. All six girls were thrown from the vehicle. One of the passengers, a 15 year old girl, was killed and the other five were injured, three of them seriously. The car virtually disintegrated after hitting the bridge. Both Carole & her friend, who died upon impact, were passengers in the back seat. The young driver of the vehicle, was treated and released.

Carole spent the following 9 months of her life in a coma. She suffered some brain damage that severely impaired her physically, but not mentally. She would eventually be able to communicate to her family that she could remember virtually all the events that happened prior to her accident, with the exception of one year. Her spirit became imprisoned in her damaged body.

After returning home to the care of her parents, she remained in a semi-comatose state for several more months. Over time, with the help of physical therapy, family & friends and the never ending love & devotion of her mother, Wanda, she eventually relearned how to feed herself, communicate verbally (although it was difficult for most of us to understand), and knit beautiful afghans. She spent the rest of her life in a wheelchair.

Carole was blessed with a special ability to inspire & bless others. She had a wonderful attitude, sunny disposition, a great sense of humor and a beautiful smile. She was always appreciative of things done for her and those who visited. Although it was difficult to speak, Carole always said "please" and "thank you". Carole endured to the end and was valiant in building a beautiful monument of her life.

Carole's spirit was finally freed from her body on May 28, 1995 at the age of 54 due to kidney failure.

Carole was a living example to me through my teen years of the importance of driving safely. I shared Carole's story, pictures and newspaper articles with my 15 year old son yesterday. Today he got his learners permit. Interesting timing no doubt!

As I reflect on Carole's life, I can only imagine the challenges Carole endured but I appreciate her choice to make the most of her existence on this earth, and value the gift of life.

Giving Back

“Life is a gift, and it offers us the privilege, opportunity, and responsibility to give something back.”

-Anthony Robbins

The Power Of Presence

"I believe in the power of presence...

Presence is a noun, not a verb; it is a state of being, not doing. States of being are not highly valued in a culture which places a high priority on doing. Yet, true presence or "being with" another person carries with it a silent power — to bear witness to a passage, to help carry an emotional burden or to begin a healing process. In it, there is an intimate connection with another that is perhaps too seldom felt in a society that strives for ever-faster "connectivity."

I was first hurled into an ambivalent presence many years ago, when a friend's mother died unexpectedly. I had received a phone call from the hospital where she had just passed away. Part of me wanted to rush down there, but another part of me didn't want to intrude on this acute and very personal phase of grief. I was torn about what to do. Another friend with me at the time said, "Just go. Just be there." I did, and I will never regret it.

Since that formative moment, I have not hesitated to be in the presence of others for whom I could "do" nothing. I sat at the bedside, with other friends, of a young man in a morphine coma to blunt the pain of his AIDS-related dying. We spoke to him about his inevitable journey out of this life. He later told his parents — in a brief moment of lucidity — that he had felt us with him. Another time I visited a former colleague dying of cancer in a local hospice. She too was not awake, and presumably unaware of others' presence with her. The atmosphere was by no means solemn. Her family had come to terms with her passing and were playing guitars and singing. They allowed her to be present with them as though she were still fully alive. With therapy clients, I am still pulled by the need to do more than be, yet repeatedly struck by the healing power of connection created by being fully there in the quiet understanding of another. In it, none of us are truly alone.

The power of presence is not a one-way street, not only something we give to others. It always changes me, and always for the better."

Debbie Hall has been a psychologist in San Diego's Naval Medical Center Pediatrics Department for 12 years. She volunteers for the Disaster Mental Health Team of her local Red Cross. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5064534

Ronald McDonald House Delivery

For Valentines Day, my husband & I delivered 10 dogs to the Ronald McDonald House in Salt Lake. They have three homes and they provide housing to families with sick children. We've asked that these dogs be given to the siblings of the patients. The ones who are shuffled back and forth between the hospital and the RM House as parents struggle to attend to their sick child's needs.

Information on the Ronald McDonald House

(http://www.rmhcslc.org/)

Few medical crises are more devastating or frightening than a child with a life-threatening disease or an unexpected injury or illness. Few situations place greater stress on parents and families. And while tremendous advances have been made in treating seriously ill children, the families’ financial and emotional burdens remain. The Ronald McDonald House was created to help ease some of these burdens and is the only charity of its kind in our region.

Without Ronald McDonald House Charities of the Intermountain Area, many families would have nowhere to turn. The Salt Lake Ronald McDonald House is the cornerstone of our organization, providing a home-away-from-home for more than 1,700 families annually while their children are being treated at Primary Children’s Medical Center, Shriner’s Hospital, University of Utah Medical Center or LDS Hospital.

The Ronald McDonald House is a home for forty-five families each night. . .a place where they can break away from the hospital, yet be available at a moment’s notice. . .or a place where children being treated as out-patients can live with their parents, brothers and sisters. Just as important, it is a place where parents can meet and talk with other families who are experiencing some of the same fears and concerns, and establish a mutual support system so critically needed at this time.

Since our opening in 1988, we have served 30,000 families from all over the world. The cost of housing families is approximately $60 per night. Families are asked to share in the cost of their stay by contributing $10 per night; however, their extensive medical expenses often preclude even this modest amount. No family is turned away because of an inability to pay.

Simple contributions:

• Pop Tabs - they collect only the tabs because they are small and easily stored. Unlike the can, tabs are paint-free, which increases their value and profit in the recycling process.
• Inactive Cell Phones
• Wish List Items (http://www.rmhcslc.org/pageview.aspx?id=11954)
• Provide dinners

Check out additional details on ways to support the Ronald McDonald House. http://www.rmhcslc.org/pageview.aspx?menu=3382&id=12355

Feel the JOY in giving!

The Hospital Window

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window.

The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.

And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Days and weeks passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only tofind the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it forhimself.

He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. Itfaced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.

She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."

Author Unknown

Thank you Steph for sharing this story with me. It's such a great reminder of the importance of encouraging & uplifting those around us.

“Listening to someone's story ... is key to healing and diagnosis.”

This article was posted on http://www.npr.org/. I thought it was so powerful, I wanted to share it. Dr. Alicia Conill is a clinical associate professor at the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine.

"Studies have shown it takes a physician about 18 seconds to interrupt a patient after he begins talking.

It was Sunday. I had one last patient to see. I approached her room in a hurry and stood at the doorway. She was an older woman, sitting at the edge of the bed, struggling to put socks on her swollen feet. I crossed the threshold, spoke quickly to the nurse, scanned her chart noting she was in stable condition. I was almost in the clear.

I leaned on the bedrail looking down at her. She asked if I could help put on her socks. Instead, I launched into a monologue that went something like this: "How are you feeling? Your sugars and blood pressure were high but they're better today. The nurse mentioned you're anxious to see your son who's visiting you today. It's nice to have family visit from far away. I bet you really look forward to seeing him."

She stopped me with a stern, authoritative voice. "Sit down, doctor. This is my story, not your story."

I was surprised and embarrassed. I sat down. I helped her with the socks. She began to tell me that her only son lived around the corner from her, but she had not seen him in five years. She believed that the stress of this contributed greatly to her health problems. After hearing her story and putting on her socks, I asked if there was anything else I could do for her. She shook her head no and smiled. All she wanted me to do was to listen.

Each story is different. Some are detailed; others are vague. Some have a beginning, middle and end. Others wander without a clear conclusion. Some are true; others not. Yet all those things do not really matter. What matters to the storyteller is that the story is heard — without interruption, assumption or judgment.

Listening to someone's story costs less than expensive diagnostic testing but is key to healing and diagnosis.

I often thought of what that woman taught me, and I reminded myself of the importance of stopping, sitting down and truly listening. And, not long after, in an unexpected twist, I became the patient, with a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis at age 31. Now, 20 years later, I sit all the time — in a wheelchair.

For as long as I could, I continued to see patients from my chair, but I had to resign when my hands were affected. I still teach med students and other health care professionals, but now from the perspective of physician and patient.

I tell them I believe in the power of listening. I tell them I know firsthand that immeasurable healing takes place within me when someone stops, sits down and listens to my story."

"Each day is a gift--don't take life for granted!"

In 2005 my dad was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. The cancer was found in his chest and my dad, Frank, went through chemo and radiation to win the battle. The outcome looked promising.

After almost three years of being cancer free, Dad started to feel sick again. In November of 2007, his P.E.T. was clean, no cancer. But in April of 2008, the cancer was back and it was now throughout his body. He went through two different rounds of aggressive chemo without it doing anything to the cancer. The doctor’s decided they had to be more aggressive with his treatment and decided to do a stem cell transplant.

There was a small complication though, dad had heart problems within the last three years and had had a splint put into his heart. So, there was some concern about his heart. Dad, who is now 73 years old, was only supposed to be in the hospital for two weeks but it turned into a little more than two months. His counts would not come up and he was having a hard time eating and keeping things down. But again the stubbornness in him prevailed.

At the family New Years Eve dinner, everyone went around saying what they were grateful for, Dad was grateful for making it through 2008. He still had his sense of humor.

Dad was again cancer free for about one month and then the cancer was back. It was again throughout his body surrounding his internal organs. Again my dad was in it to win the battle. On January 15, 2009, Dad went in for what he thought was a blood check. The doctors had decided that they needed to take a drastic measure and it had to be quick. They wanted to give Dad a super bomb chemo treatment. He was told that if the treatment was not done that day he would possibly have four weeks to live. If he survived the folllowing 72 hours of treatment he may live six months. The way this treatment attacks the cancer, there was some fear with the effect it would have on his internal organs, especially his heart. Before the chemo was given they put a lot of fluids into his body to give a buffer to all his organs.

The doctors were all amazed at how well Dad did and he was sent home on Sunday afternoon. The treatment had already started shrinking the cancer. But again Dad couldn’t really eat or keep food down.

Since the last round of chemo my dad has had to be hospitalized twice and is having a hard time winning his battle. Hospice has been called in to give help and comfort. Although this has been a hard journey, our faith has given much comfort and strength to our family. We have been very blessed and know that this is not the end. The last time I was with my dad he let me know that each day is a gift and not to take it for granted. He has been a great warrior during this battle.

When Judy offered the blanket, I wasn’t sure I should take it but then she mentioned it was in a camouflage fabric and I knew that it was meant for my dad. Dad served for 20 years in the Navy and was being cared for at the military hospital in San Diego, CA. At his last hospital stay he was given a camouflage beanie to keep his head warm. The blanket was a wonderful gift of friendship and encouragement.

Jenna Ellingson

Salt Lake City, UT

Trust in the Lord

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
In all thy ways acknowldge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

Proverbs 3:5-6