Sunday, November 1, 2009

Conference Protesters Provide Opposition

Conference was, as usual, very good and there were some powerful talks given this time. I think some crazy things are coming. The protesters were there, as usual, ranting and raving about how terrible we are. Frankly, I am grateful for their presence. I like to pause there for a few moments to feel the darkness they tend to represent and then go inside the Conference Center and feel the exact opposite feeling as I listen to the choir sing a beautiful hymn before the meeting starts. The contrast to me is a testimony in itself. No words need be said, just the opposition is amazing. I keep thinking that if any one of them could step outside his hate and anger and stand with me in both places they would have to agree that they carry with them the wrong spirit. But of course they wouldn’t be able to step outside their little world of belief any more than we can get Al-Qaeda leaders to suddenly convert to Christianity. I see these people as the modern day Pharisees, straining at gnats but swallowing camels. They remind me of the last chapter of Acts, when Paul goes to Rome and calls for the Jews there to come talk to him. They ask him about this strange sect that they have heard so many bad things about, in fact here are their words: (Acts 28:22-28.) “But we desire to hear of thee what thou thinkest: for as concerning this sect, we know that every where it is spoken against. And when they had appointed him a day, there came many to him into his lodging; to whom he expounded and testified the kingdom of God, persuading them concerning Jesus, both out of the law of Moses, and out of the prophets, from morning till evening. And some believed the things which were spoken, and some believed not. And when they agreed not among themselves, they departed, after that Paul had spoken one word, Well spake the Holy Ghost by Esaias the prophet unto our fathers, Saying, Go unto this people, and say, Hearing ye shall hear, and shall not understand; and seeing ye shall see, and not perceive: For the heart of this people is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes have they closed; lest they should see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and should be converted, and I should heal them.” Indeed the Christians, which were a new and very strange Jewish sect, were thought of as atheists because they wouldn’t believe in the state religion (kind of like not saluting the flag today) and they were considered cannibals because it was reported that they ate flesh and drank blood in their meetings, and they had all kinds of perverse relationships with members of their congregations because they called each other brother and sister, etc. The rumors were wild and crazy, and of course none of them were true. Some government positions were given to Christians specifically because of their integrity, “in spite of their strange religion.” How many people today say the Mormons are such good people but are just deceived by some strange mind altering religion. Things never change.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

The Windsong

I had an interesting experience this week. I have gotten to the point where I have to take a pair of cheap reading glasses everywhere I go (it’s been growing on me for the past several years). Since I don’t always have a shirt pocket I got one of those cords that hook to the glasses and goes around the neck so I always have them with me. Well, I was going into Jennifer’s school to check her out (she wasn’t feeling well), the wind was blowing just a bit and I had the glasses on my head instead of around my neck (they get in the way of the seat belt when I drive) which put the cord right by my ear. As I walked toward the school I started to hear a low humming sound nearby. I stopped to figure it out and it took me a few seconds but I finally realized it was the wind blowing past the cord that was right by my ear, vibrating it enough to create a humming sound. That should have been the end of it but my mind seemed to go into high gear as if it was learning something new and exciting. I was shocked at how interesting it seemed and stopped to adjust the cord to hear it in both ears (stereo). After listening for a while I suddenly looked up at the tree that was right in front of me and saw, as if it was being shown to me, the thin branches on the tree that were the same width as the cord around my neck. I then realized that each of those branches was playing the same note that I could hear from the cord right next to my ear. Because the branches were 10 feet way from me I couldn’t hear their note or song. It then came to me almost as if it were a revelation that every tree has a song. Then I realized that each forest must play it’s own symphony when a breeze blows. It dawned on me that we humans have such poor hearing that we can’t hear it so we don’t even realize it is there. The creatures of the forest, for the most part, have incredible hearing so they are able to hear these wind songs. Obviously they are not the same thing we hear when we listen to Clair de lune for the first time but it is still a song, it’s just a song for a completely different audience. I then wondered if, at their intellectual level, the wind song gives them messages as to what weather might be on the way. Does the forest play a different song when the wind blows from the north as compared to the west, south or east? Might the animals learn to recognize the song that tells them when a major winter storm is coming or a summer thunder storm? Is their weather report not from TV but from the song of the forest? I stood there for a bit soaking all this in as if it was being pored into my head, then after being grateful for the insight I continued on my way into the school with my mind still excited about this new perspective. I haven’t been able to forget what I felt as this information was pored into my head on that breezy day in Herriman so I thought I had better write it down so others can confirm their suspicions that I am a few crayons short of a box and begin a program of prayer for the crazy guy that hears the wind song. That’s Okay; I still feel I am better for hearing it. It makes me more aware of the fact that there are many things going on around me that I may not now about in my noisy world filled with the sounds of traffic and machinery, but they are there and though I can’t hear them with my ears I can hear them with my heart. It keeps me in touch with what’s important.

A little after thought…
A few months after I wrote this story, I was reading a book, called Wisdomkeepers, I bought at the BYU Bookstore (when I went down there to drop off my temple pictures that I sell in the bookstore). It is filled with messages from Native American Elders about the path of wisdom. One told the interviewers that an important part of life is finding your own song. It is amazing how different cultures are. He says that everyone has a song and you must ask the creator to help you find your own song. He also said that everything in nature has a song; there are even songs for healing of sickness and disease. It was interesting to hear his perspective. It reminded me of my experience with the hum of the cord on my reading glasses and the song of the tree and the forest. I think I am still looking for my song. I hope it is not too late to find it.

Another after thought…
For the fall semester of 2009 Brian took a class in collage on flute making. He made himself a wooden Native American flute and, to my surprise, he made one for me as well and gave it to me for Christmas. I play it frequently, usually at home but sometimes I take it on a walk in the woods to play. I enjoy making up songs as I go and have started a habit of creating a new song for the day each day. It’s always a short one minute song dedicated to that day so each day has its own song. I don’t think the day cares if it has a song or not and even though I quickly forget the song as the day wears on, at least I know I gave the day its own song and it makes me feel closer to the things that we don’t think about in our day to day busy world, but they are still all around us, keeping track of us, watching to see how we spend our precious time while here for a short stay on Mother Earth.

Friday, February 27, 2009

My Trip to the Yert




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Curt called this week and said he was taking a group from Dugway on a snowshoe/cross country ski trip up a canyon near Logan to a small hut/tent called a yurt that Utah State Univ. managed. He said they had some cancellations and asked if Brian and I wanted to go. It is a 3 and ¾ mile hike up the canyon on packed snow to the yurt where they have a stove for cooking and one for heating and melting snow for water and 6 bunk beds to sleep 12, a table, chairs, dishes, a separate outhouse, etc. You just bring your own food and sleeping bag and you are set. The wood frame canvas building was about 20 feet across and was fairly comfortable. The stove got the yurt so warm that, for a few minutes, we had to open the door for a bit until the wood burned down some.
Well, when Curt called to have us go, I was quite torn. I love to do that kind of stuff but we had to get things ready for Brian’s homecoming this Sunday and though my ankle surgery really helped me I am still a bit handicapped, and never will be able to do a lot of hard and long hiking with heavy loads. Tami and I talked about it and decided that since it would be a chance to get out and get some fun pictures and do what I like to do I should go for it. So Brian and I tried to find stuff for him that had been in storage for 2 years and be ready for Curt to pick us up Friday morning to head for Logan. We met the other 3 guys in North Salt Lake and all went up in a big van. It was raining most of the drive up there but we were hoping that it would be snowing in the canyon. Luckily, by the time we got there, it wasn’t raining or snowing. The fog was thick though, I think it was trying to decide if it was going to start raining again or be done. Though I would have liked to see a fresh snow on the trees the fog added a certain mystery to the pictures so it was fun.
The last stretch of road to the parking lot at the trailhead, about ¼ mile, was a dirt road that was covered with ice and was the slickest stretch of road I have ever seen. The ice was thick and smooth and water was running down the road fairly rapidly (from the rain). The van made it part way up then just slid down and we had very little control. It finally stopped when we slid sideways and ran into the snow on the side of the road. At that point we decided to get out and see if we could help guide it the rest of the way down to a good stopping place. When we stepped onto the ice we just started sliding. One guy was having a hard time staying up so I worked my way over to him, while I was sliding down, to help get him out from behind the van which was sliding back down the road again. I grabbed him and tried to slide us both to one side. Well, it didn’t work too well, he fell then I followed him down. Since the water that was running down the road was about a quarter of an inch thick I instantly jumped back up so I wouldn’t get very wet but he couldn’t get himself up so Curt came over to help and we both got him up and off the road. The funny thing was he dropped a plastic Pepsi bottle he was carrying and it slowly slid down this straight icy road until it was almost out of sight. We all got a good laugh out of it and wished we had a video camera. We finally got the van parked off the side of the road and got our equipment out to start our journey.
My camera bag is as big and heavy as my backpack so I realized I wasn’t going to make it carrying both. I brought a sled that I had decided I would pull up the trail so I could get it all there without having to put a lot of weight on my ankle. That is one drawback to having a nice camera and a few lenses, tripod, etc. They are heavy and take up lots of space. Well, the skill levels were instantly visible and as I expected I was quickly in last place but that was OK because I wanted to take my time and get some pictures on the way up. Curt and Dennis were both on skies and the rest of us were on foot or snowshoes. Curt brought a few pairs of snowshoes and since it was so warm the snow was soft enough that Mark (the guy who fell in the road) and I finally put them on to keep us from sinking a foot down into the snow with almost every step. We put Mark’s sleeping bag on the sled because it wasn’t attached to his pack and he was just carrying it which made things difficult for him. He then trudged on and Curt hung back with me to make sure I was safe in my last place position. He finally took my sled with him so I could walk faster and stop and take pictures more easily. After a while, Dennis made it up to the yurt, rested for a bit, then came back down to see how we were doing (he was very fast since he was on skis and is very much into the mountain climbing thing, in fact he is going to Nepal in a few months to climb a 15,000 foot (I think, maybe 19,000 foot I don’t remember) high mountain near Everest). When he got to us he started pulling my sled and I walked with him for a while with Curt just ahead of Dennis in the ski tracks. After a few minutes I just couldn’t keep up with the pace and sent them on to the yurt to get dinner going. Brian, used to walking on his mission, was long gone as were the other two on snowshoes. So, there I was left alone to take it easy on the ankle and take pictures as I went. We started at about noon and it was supposed to take about 3 hours to get up. Along the way, I had shed some of my layers to avoid getting overheated and put them on the sled along with my main water bottle. Well, I didn’t think to grab some of that stuff for cooler temperatures to come. I quickly ran out of water and at about 5:00 pm I was without water, had a long sleeve t-shirt and a heavy army shirt on and was getting cold and very thirsty and getting more and more exhausted as I limped along with my bad ankle slowly giving out. Since I had never been there and it was foggy I couldn’t tell if I was 10 minutes from the yurt or 30. Just then a couple on skis passed me up going up the canyon just for fun. They stopped to ask if the sleeping bag they found just off the road might be mine. They said it was in a green cover. Well, my sleeping bag was in a green cover but I couldn’t imagine that it had fallen off the sled and I had missed it. They said it must have rolled a bit as it was off the side of the road a ways. They said they put it in the middle of the road because they didn’t know if it was someone going up or down that lost it. They said it was about a half mile down the trail. Well, I had quite the dilemma. It was getting dark, I was cold, thirsty and exhausted and didn’t know if I might still be 30 minutes from the yurt or if it was just around the bend. If I keep going to the yurt to get a warm coat and water to go back down for my sleeping bag it might waste valuable time and it would get very late and dark before I made it back to the yurt for the second time. Also, if I spent a long time getting to the yurt to tell someone else to go get it, that would be a waste since I was the closest to it. I knew that at my pace that half mile down the canyon then half mile back up with a sleeping bag would take me quite a while and then I would only be back to where I was right then and I might still be 30 minutes away from the yurt and it would be an hour later and colder. I finally decided I was the closest and had to be the one to go get it, so I turned around and headed down. As I rounded each bend, limping along, I was hoping that I would see a sleeping bag in the distant fog sitting in the road. Bend after bend I kept hoping but no sleeping bag. Another skier came up and I asked him about it. He said he saw it and it wasn’t too much further. Finally after a few more down hill stretches and turns there it was. I picked it up and thought to myself that even though the rest of the group was not far away and would come looking for me if I got much later I still started seeing headlines in the paper about the man who froze to death 100 yards from the nice warm yurt near Logan Utah. Though I realized that wouldn’t happen it’s funny what your mind goes through when you are cold and exhausted. The sleeping bag was actually not mine, but Mark’s. Fortunately his bag was bigger than mine and was in a very lose bag so I was able to put the extra part of the bag over my head to keep my head warm (yeah, I left my hat in my coat pocket on the sled) and the rest of the bag against my back kept me a bit warmer also. My sleeves and thin gloves were soaked (yeah, thin to use with my camera, my heavy gloves were, you guessed it, in my coat pocket on the sled) so my back was getting a bit warmer but my arms and hands were soaked and getting colder and the camera and large lens were getting heavier and heavier around my neck.
As I started what seemed to me the eternal trip back up the canyon limping and cold I had time to do some thinking about how interesting disasters are for people, and though mine wasn’t really a disaster, it was still difficult enough to get me thinking about what ifs. What would I do if it were a life or death situation? How do I overcome the problem of the mind going numb from exhaustion and losing reason and giving up? Of course that is a time when you tend to think more about God and the hereafter. And of course it is a time when you turn to prayer for strength.
On the way to San Diego a few weeks ago, as we were driving to Nathan and Paige’s wedding, I listened to a CD about Symbolism in the scriptures that I had listened to years ago but as I listened to it again on this recent car trip I learned new things. One of those new lessons I found interesting was the reason certain animals were forbidden in the Law of Moses. Some animals were not forbidden for health reasons but because of what they represented to the people. Pigs were animals that were obedient to the farmer when they were hungry and needed food but when they were fed and comfortable they quickly forgot the hands that fed them and would just sit around in a lazy stupor with no thought of showing gratitude or doing any other farm work. It really hit me how often I was like that pig. I pray when I need help but when everything is fine I forget the hand that feeds me and fail to just pray to give thanks. Now I’m not a complete slouch, I do give thanks as often as I remember; I just think I don’t remember as often as I should. Well, there I was, in a jam and praying for strength again. I took that opportunity to focus on the word remember. We use that word in the sacrament prayer every week and it is sprinkled throughout the scriptures. Having the ability to remember is so important, not just when we need help, but when all is well in Zion we should remember the Lord who cares for us always. I resolved to be less of a swine and when I got out of the jam I would pray more often just because.
As I thought on these things I began to meditate on what power there is in the Lord’s name and the physics of that power. I thought of how the Lord says he is light and love. I had just been reading in the book of Moroni who quotes his father talking about charity – the love of God. I wondered what power there is in charity. Jesus is love, Jesus is light, Jesus is sufficient for our needs, He is everything. As gray fog darkened around me I focused on a Christ-like love for family and friends and then for all mankind. As my focus became stronger with each step, to my surprise, the cold began to dissipate and strength returned to my legs. Without effort a smile spread across my face and joy filled my heart. I was truly amazed that from these thoughts of love came such energy from beyond myself. There I was walking through a canyon of dark and cold shadows yet I was surrounded by a field of warmth and love that filled me up and kept me going one step at a time until suddenly up ahead, through the darkening fog appeared a hut all aglow with the fire of a wood stove and the smells of dinner cooking.
I entered the yurt a changed person. Not some tremendous Alma like transformation but just better and wiser for the experience that I alone had. It was almost as if I had been set up with the different CD’s and chapters of scripture I went through to have them all brought together for my growth during that trying time.
Just the other day I read a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt who said something to the effect that growth and wisdom come through the trying times and I thought as I read that quote that I had just gone through one of those.
When I was young I used to think that the mysteries of the gospel were about some strange topics like where the three Nephites were or where the cave is that the Nephite records are in, etc. As I get older I now believe that the mystery has more to do with the change brought on a person as they, ever so gradually, and through constant prayer and study, change into a new person with the Lords image in their countenance. How sad that so many of us spend so much time loving the world as if that is why we are here, losing track of the weightier things. The things that make us children of Christ.

Well, anyway, once inside the yurt I sat by the stove for a while to rest and warm myself before dinner was served. It was about 6 pm and the others were saying they were just getting ready to head out to see what was taking me so long, I didn’t tell them what had happened to me, I figured it was only meant for me. Mark was grateful I brought his sleeping bag and I was grateful for the little warmth it provided against my back that last hour of my walk.
After dinner and dishes we played the card game called golf with some cards that were provided in the yurt and then hit the sack. Though I was exhausted and the cot was comfortable, I had a hard time sleeping that night, I rested and did some tossing and turning and some dozing off now and then until 9:00 am the next morning. I wondered what my trip down was going to bring.