Journal of A Child's Hope Trip to Tijuana, Mexico, October 2020

 Tuesday:  I left hoe after notes under Bryce and Jesse's pillows with a Farr's Huckeberry chocolate bar. I arrived at Elise's Lux concert at 7:10 after stopping for a drive-thru cheeseburger at McDonalds when what I really needed was a bathroom! However, the dining room was still closed due to Covid.  The concert started at 7:30 and was one hour of impressive choral music in black dresses and tuxes. We slipped off for a bite of ice cream at a colonial style ice cream shop and I ordered "Constitutional crunch."  I slept in Elise's spare bedroom.

Wednesday: We left Elise's at 8am to meet our ride at Maeser. They were a little later than us. We had to scrape windows. I crawled int he back of her Pilot SUV with two of Elise's students, Alaina and Alysia. They appeared good friends, laying on each other or draping legs over one another without permission. We at lunch in Cedar City.  Arrived in San Diego at 8 pm and found our fun beach house rental. We walked to an Italian diner, ate outside due to Covid, passed a "farmers market" where rukous, repetitive drumming, dancing, and marijuana made my heart hurt for the people there.  The serving size of my lasagne dinner was huge. I ate half and planned to eat the next day for lunch but instead it got thrown away. I began feeling like a cold was coming on, a little scratch in my throat and some sneezing. I slept alright with some meds.

Thursday:  I woke up and showered, knowing it was my last nice shower for a few days. We then walked into town a couple blocks away for a breakfast of chocolate muffin and smoothie. We headed to the beach and enjoyed viewing warm sun and surfers. We watched "King Triton" do yoga on the beach. We walked back to the beach house to check out then drove to meet the rest of our group in a Walmart parking lot to convoy to Tijuana's border crossing. They didn't even stop us! Easy. Difference in living conditions were immediately noticeable. This area of Mexico had garbage and rubble everywhere. Tin huts/slums abounded. I wondered, "how do people live that? How can their health tolerate it?" The roads were paved and then dirt and then paved. "On-ramps" were slits in divided roadsways. It was crazy, no rules driving. Shannone did great adjusting her driving.

We arrived the orphanage and got a little tour, unloaded our things in our rooms with 6 bunks each. Our room has one young man, a 17 year old with his mom and sister. All nice people. Many already knew each other but I was alright with that. The kids were shy around us generally. We had awkward, forced interactions, and I didn't speak their language. I brought out the ankle jump rope which some kids tried. Later, we saw girls crying and learned their dog of 3 weeks had not come thru the nuter operation. Lisa Page's sister, Linette, is one of the moderaters here. Lisa Page is from Blackfoot.

By fireside, we played a game to learn more about each other. "I have never ever... " Went to bed by 10:30. Somebody in our room snored, someone breathed loudly. Gratefully, I had benedryl that knocked me out some. Headache, tired, and sneezing!

Friday: Today we painted the library in the school. It had a "computer" room in bright green and the "book room" with all sorts of colors and shapes. In moving the book shelf, it broke, so we did some emergency unloading. We primed everything and then had lunch. A couple other construction projects were also going on. We left for a picnic in the park and followed our google pin-only that is not where everyone really went. So we made it at last and there was barely any food left. The park was not my standard of a park with barely any grass. I played games with the kids (Missionary tag) and did crafts. It was pretty hot. The first thing I needed to do was  use the public bathroom. But there was no TP! Thankfully, due to this cold, I had a kleenex in my pocket for the boogies I had advanced to in my nose. We were there until 4 pm. We tried to beat the traffic home because roads here are literally insane. We had a pizza party at the ophanage. Firside with our group at 8 pm with tea lights and "lighting the world" wherever we go. I snuck away for a shower after dinner and it felt great. Still have a headache and boogies. Miserable at times but gererally ok.

Saturday:  Woke up in the middle of the night for a potty run. We have 2 toilets for women and can't flush anything but what comes from the body. Otherwise, you fish it out with the hook. Surprisingly, I don't get overwhelmed by "poopy dirty paper" smells. I guess the trick is you turn it all face down.  I haven't had any forgetful moments, yet. We got up and went to the bakery distrubution down the road. We had gone over yesterday to inquire. We bought bread for everyone. It's weird to not be able to communicate with everyone. I can kind of guess what they are talking about, but can't really respond.

 We painted colors on the library walls today, scrubbed the floors, put it back together, etc. I was there until the bitter end. Had a yummy lunch of chocolate chicken. We went shopping for care baskets at a big grocery store. Like a big army with our red bags and matching T-shirts, we each bought the same supplies for a family. We also bought some clothes for 3 new orphanage kids that have very little, including lots of underwear! We returned to the orphanage and like an army again, walked down to the destitute area of plywood houses to delivere our care baskets to some extremly needy families. There was a shallow ditch and a smell...Elise says it is their open sewer and everyone said to avoid the water. It's surprising. 

One man, Alberto, looked so lonely watching all of us walk by that I wanted to go see him. Since I can't speak Spanish, Elise informed me that he moved here from the south 10 years ago, looking for a better life. He sells ice cream. He has lived with the family he is with now for 2 years. They had moved from one side of that stinky ditch to the other. a little fence around their cement structure. Not much of an upgrade, but Elise pointed out he has a roof now. Looked pretty awful from their courtyard where they were digging a 4x4 pit for some unkown reason. We gave him our bag.

We had Shannon's bag to give away too so we kept looking and ended up back tracking to the first corner house. Wow. So many-10 people!- lived in this..."fort". They had bunkbeds and a toilet with new cement around it...but no "official" plumbing. We tripped in over a pile of rubble which may never be moved based on what I see around here. A grandma had a son and his girlfriend and 3 kids, a daughter and a friend. Dogs, chickens, dirt floors, a fridge--I think. clothes hung around us, a puddle in the middle of a dirt floor. One lightbulb-possibly a TV somehwere-a stench. Dirty feet, flip flops. It was messy and the grandma was embarrased about that. They were very grateful for the bag of food and necessities. (We have it so very good in the US.) An at least partial open roof. They came to the area 20 years ago to make a better life. In Chappa, she still has 2 children she hasn't seen since, but what do you do when you can't affort life? A young woman (20-25?) walked in as we were leaving. Her face was pretty caked with makeup but she smelled good and looked surprisingly very clean. How do they do that living here? I guess we could all live with much less than we have.

We came back to street tacos with the orphanage. So very good. Made friends with Angel, Angelica, Bernardo because they delivered with us. We were asked to pray with the homes we visited, but the second home was ackward about it, according to Elise. It was inspiring to watch Elise communicate with these people today. She has a way and loves these people. I do too, but not the life here. I will gladly go home.

Sunday:  Today we went to church at a branch. The building was in like a strip mall. There were 40 of us and 12 of them. The man giving one of the talks ended up being from Elise's mission way down south! She said she had dinner in his home several times and his relationship with his wife was always weird. He is separated from her now so I don't know his actual status. People have a hard tie getting married or divorced in Mexico because you have to go to the town you were born in and people just don't have money to live let alone travel. Again...so grateful for the USA!!

Hidden Lake

 One July 4th weekend during my 13th year, my family of 9 took an overnight hike to a place called Hidden Lake. It was the first time I had done a hike like this let alone the fact that I was also going to be carrying a backpack with my provisions for sleeping and eating.

The morning started out well. We had spent the night in our little trailer in the parking lot of the trail head. It was a lovely morning and as we started down the trail, the meadow smelled fresh and lovely. The only immediate down-side was the thrash of mosquitoes following us.

The flat trail very soon turned uphill. It overwhelmed my body. I was not accustomed to this type of physical exertion. I was not accustomed to the freshly hatched swarms of mosquitoes that landed on me every time I tried to catch my breath. My pack felt so heavy, my muscles were tired, I felt hopeless that we would ever arrive at our destination.

At one point, my two older brothers asked for and were given permission to forge ahead of us to the lake. I guess we were traveling too slow for them. I was embarrassed and a little peeved that my younger siblings weren't struggeling like me. They headed off with the older brothers. Along the trail I trudged, begrudgingly. Wishing I had never agreed to this. My older sister tried to distract me with singing. I couldn't sing! I could hardly breath! There was no getting a smile out of me because I presently hated life. I was utterly miserable.

After some time, voices caught my attention as I realized my brothers had returned with big smiles and empty backs. They had found our destination. My brother, Eric, stopped in front of me and asked if he could take my backpack. As he lifted it off of my shoulders, I restrained a sob. I was so grateful! 

We continued on our journey, much relieved and my mood much improved. As I walked, overwhelmed at the kindness of my older brother, I related his actions to what Jesus Christ does with sin: An elder brother relieving us of the burden.

The Final Blow

 One night I came home from a youth fireside where I had been given a picture of Jesus Christ to hang in my room and serve as a reminder of who I wanted to become like. I went down the stairs toward my bedroom and found my younger sister dressed in some of my clothes. Immediately I became enraged.  I grabbed her smaller frame by the shoulders, pushed her back against the wall, and gave her a very satisfying undercut to the belly. Her belly wasn't expecting this becaue it felt like very fresh play dough. There was no resistance from her muscles at all. It was too easy. Until this moment, our physical fights had only included pinching, hitting, and pulling hair. This was definitely an acceleration to our physical confrontations, or rather MY confrontations with her.

She fell to the floor groaning, probably over-reacting in her writhing about and with hollaring that would naturally bring a parent. Deathbed repentance was kicking in. Had I overreacted to her helping herself to my closet? As expected, Mom appeared on the stair landing with a hand on her hip and a very disappointed look. She sternly uttered, “I hope you are satisfied.”

She had glanced at the pool table behind me. Why? I glanced over my left shoulder. Sitting just where I had left it to free my hands for that upper cut, was that picture of Christ that I had just been given. How could I have forgotten Him so quickly?  All over stupid clothes. I felt embarrased and ashamed. I made a private/personal decision that moment that I would never again hit or punch or kick or upper cut my sister again. No matter what. That was in 1984 and I can report now in 2024 that I have kept that promise. It took some restraint initially, but it has been pretty easy the last, oh, 39 years or so. She is a dear, best friend to me.

There is a story in the Book of Mormon about a group of people (The Anit-Nephi-Lehis) who after learning about Jesus Christ, not only repented of their many murderous sins, but also burried their weapons of war so they could not ever retrieve them again. If their enemies came upon them, they would rather lay down and die than offend God by staining their swords again. They burried their weapons of war, FOR peace. And so did I.

He Hears Me

     I am much like those who have “just always believed.” However, that “believing” didn’t come magically or without any effort.  It was built upon, line upon line, and over years of religious living in my home. 

    I never felt like we were overly religious.  We were just doing the things that I was taught to do at church.   We observed the Sabbath Day.  We held FHE on Monday nights (complete with lesson, game, and refreshment).  We had our family prayers, family meals, and family scripture reading.  I was privileged to receive father’s blessings when needed and watched my father and mother serve in their church callings and be visiting and home teachers. Home teachers showed up nearly monthly with a message for my family.  I said my prayers at night and relied on the power of prayers whenever it was needed.  For many years, I assumed all homes were like ours.  That said, I wasn’t a perfect child nor were we a perfect family, but with my parents and family I learned the value of prayer. We prayed for my friend after a horse accident; for my mom in the hospital, for our broken down jeep in the middle of nowhere, for siblings on missions, for lost pets, keys and shoes.  I knew early on that when you needed help, you prayed.

    When I was a sophomore in seminary, I had a particularly motivating lesson on the Atonement of Jesus Christ and repentance. I knew I had things to repent of. For several years, I had been trying to ‘heal’ myself before repenting because I thought I had to be “over it” for it to be sincere. Then I learned about the enabling power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Through sincere efforts to correct and change my life by turning to Christ, He would strengthen me in my effort to keep his commandments. I learned that I could repent as many times as was needed.

    So one evening I knelt by my bed, alone in my basement bedroom, and confessed my sin to the Lord. I spoke out loud, though quietly, with tears streaming easily down my face. I felt very humble before Deity.  He wasn’t just a figure of my imagination, but very real and almost tangible as I pictured myself at his knee as I had been taught to do by my young women leaders.  As I proceeded with my confession and my desire to be rid of it and make things right, a warm feeling began to engulf me and I knew He was listening. I knew there was more I needed to do before my repentance was complete, but the experience was so moving, I did not delay and more importantly, I knew for myself that all I had ever been taught was real. 

    When I was a little girl, I was often afraid of the dark. I did not like waking up at night and finding the shadows in my bedroom reaching out to me. I had been taught to pray during these times, which I did, many times. Partly because my pitifully quiet cries for my mother didn’t seem to arouse her from sleep. Eventually, I figured out a “proactive” bedtime prayer: “Please help me that I won’t see things or hear things that aren’t really there.” 

    As a freshman in college home for Christmas break, I found myself the last to bed following a date. I was staying in my 16 year old sister’s room, across the hall from my parents.  I knelt for prayer before crawling into bed next to her. Soon after doing so, I heard an odd sound outside the bedroom window that caused my heart to skip a beat. I bravely knelt again and offered my childlike preventive prayer real quick-like.  I tried to settle myself in the sheets but again heard something faint and distant yet out of the ordinary. I am not sure how, but my body knew. For the first time ever, I experienced REAL fear. I found myself literally frozen to my bed. This was different than any of the dozens of times I had woken up as a child. My tongue tripled in size, my body became hot, my heart raced. My ears became keener and my mind alerted to desperately account for these faint noises. Again, I turned to the only source I felt I had and prayed. I begged the Spirit of the Lord to wake up my parents and bring them to my rescue.  No one came. I prayed more, but felt very alone. How could this be with my sister was asleep right next to me and a house full of family? 

    The floor board outside of my room creaked. That was no imagination. This spelled real danger.  The open doorway was darker than my bedroom. I could not see anyone, but I could feel someone standing there.  I began planning evasive maneuvers. I considered yelling out. But something stilled me and my massive sized tongue and said simply, "wait." So, I waited, silently, and repeatedly pinching my sister. I thought if I could get her to say something, the intruder would know WE (as in two of us) are awake and he would leave. But she was no help. I heard the brushing sound of denim or corduroy against itself and in my mind could see him turning to leave. Again, I heard a faint noise and assumed it to be a departure through the front door. Still seaking companionship, I pinched Becky again, a little more skin between my fingers.  This time, she muttered something sleepily. I answered as nonchalantly as I could, “Becky, you are snoring.” With another muffled response from her, I bounded out of bed, turning on the light and waking her fully. I told her what had happened then bravely ran across the hall and woke my parents.

Together, we all entered the living room area where we found the pathway of our unappreciated guest. His snowy footprints testified on our plush, golden carpet. The sliding door drapes eerily floated away from the outside current.  I wondered out loud why my prayers had not been answered; why no one had come to my rescue.

Recently I heard Elder Bednar speak that if we are being "good boys and girls" we are in reality being led by the spirit and we won't even know it most of the time. As I have had years to refect on this experience, I know my prayers were answered in the Lord’s way and in His timing.

1. My parents had prayed for protection before going to bed that night. We had been protected. No one had been touched, nothing had been taken, and “he”, with his size 10 ½ shoes, had left on his own accord.  

2. I had HEARD things that REALLY WERE there. My spirit knew it and had responded before I had even fully processed what was happening.  

3. My dad did not need to come to my rescue and have a hallway confrontation with whomever it was, which might have led to irreversible consequences.

4. I had dismissed a trip to the basement to find my mouth retainer. I had considered doing this just before crawling into bed.  Had I done this, I would have done it in relative darkness because I know the route well and was wide awake. Had I done so, I would not have heard the first “alarm” and might have even met the intruder face to face at the top of the stairs as I returned to my room.

5. There was a literally a vision granted to me of the intruders feet and legs turning to leave. 

In retrospect, this was divine protection and intervention. I didn't know it at the time, but I do now.

    I share this experience because it was a HUGE moment for me and I was afflicted for many years by the after effects of it. As much as I acknowledge that the Lord was there to protect me, as much faith as I wanted to have that he would continue to bless and protect me, I had still encountered a very frightening experience.  For ten years, I suffered off and on with fears of someone coming into my house at night time. Prayer was always my go-to when these moments came.

    I have had multiple experiences with prayer that testify to me that the Lord hears and answers prayers, in his own way, in his own timing, and ultimately for our learning and growth.  Those nights I stood with a prayer on my lips, trembling, trying desperately to find the courage to move my feet and check for locked doors myself were moments that taught me courage and reliance on the Lord. Fear paralyzes and is the devil’s tool.  PTSD is also real, and that is what I was experiencing without knowing what to call it. Though I feared for a long time, I do not anymore.

    I know He hears me! 

Whatever Floats Your Boat

    Sometime during our summer of 1990 engagement, Bryce invited me to Grant to float the canal. It was a lovely summer day. We drove several miles east from their home and put someone’s new 2-man inflatable raft in the water. The canal was nice and wide and we settled in for an enjoyable, cozy float. It was exciting to be off doing something with just the two of us, especially something I had done little of.

    We admired the fields we passed, moo’d at the cows, and enjoyed the tree-lined banks that provided shade from the summer sun. We noted some tree branches ahead of us completely encroaching the width of  our path. Trees over water can be dangerous so we worked quickly to prepare for its challenge by working together hanging onto branches to swing us around into clearer currents. That added a little charm to the day and was quickly and safely navigated.

    Not too much later, another problem presented itself. A fence strung across the canal became visible. It was mostly underwater but too far above the water to go over. There was a small area on the left side that we might  “just fit” through if maneuvered skillfully. To complicate matters, an additional barbed wire hung threateningly across the canal too. Bryce explained the game plan. He would stand in the raft and step over the fence and barbed wire as I was to flatten myself out in the bottom of the boat.  As Bryce stepped over the fence , he pulled up on the barbed wire so the raft could pass through unscathed. It was tricky business and would require a steady hand.. Silently and with tandem effort, we somehow managed to make it through.  Bryce didn’t fall in or tip us over!  I was ready to celebrate our success but just then Bryce let go of the barbed wire. As the wire sprung back into place, it punctured the back of the raft and we heard the dreaded sound of air escaping rapidly. Working very quickly “MacGyver” style, Bryce asked for my chewing gum. He placed a temporary patch on our boat and we proceeded without too much loss. I think one of us kept a finger close to our patch the rest of the trip.

    Our troubles were not over though. This float was only supposed to take an hour as it was, but somehow obstacles kept finding their way in our path! We soon came to a bridge that crossed the expanse of the canal with head room only for fish or maybe some swimmers not afraid of tight spaces.  As both of us were dressed in shorts and t-shirts and did not plan to get wet, we paddled over to the right side of the canal, carefully exited, walked around the bridge, and then re-entered the waters. We began to wonder if this trip was worth all this effort!

    Before our journey ended, we  encountered a check-point “dam.” The water fell noisily over the boards in front of us. To  the side bank we went yet again. Except this time, we exited the float. Our excitement had been enough for one day.

    Despite the disruptions in our “restful afternoon float”, this is a favored memory of mine because we worked together to get through these little trials and lived through it without injury.  I also learned a few things about my future husband.  First, and most impressive to me was the way he took the lead  and the way he took care of me!. He was a gentleman who always took the harder part.  He took responsibility ultimately for our safety, as I thought he should. His behaviors in a stressful situation were calm and quick. I was pleased to be engaged to such a man.  I was so grateful to see he did not have a short-fused temper, that he was able to take each obstacle in stride and think creatively. His quick thinking led us safely to our journey's end.

    I literally decided on this day, this hour, that this was going to be a great man to be attached to in life.  This little float trip mirrors real life. Our expectations may be “happily ever after” with smooth waters and relaxed sailing, however, life is not always smooth. There are always inconveniences and obstacles to deflect. After 33 years of marriage, I can honestly say Bryce has been the best captain of our little fleet I could have ever hoped for. 

I Feel Your Pain

    One spiritual gift I have been blessed with sometimes feels like a curse. I have an ability to feel sympathy for those in severe circumstances, sometimes to an extreme degree. I dream about them, I lose sleep over their tragedies, and I feel their pains. 

    The first time I noted this was as a young school girl. I read in the paper about a grandpa accidentally running over his toddler grandchild. I dreamt that night that I was at the funeral for this child, who was laid in a large casket with the lower half of her body in a closed jewelry box. I couldn’t imagine what sorrow this grandpa felt. I was sure he didn’t mean to hurt his grandbaby.

    After moving to a new area, our new friends were in a car accident . Because my husband was also their family physician, we got a call that one of their children was not breathing. I felt devastating sorrow and panic. At the time we were traveling to see a Christmas play and were 30 minutes from home. We turned around and headed for the hospital. Within the traveling car, we prayed for our new friend’s. When we reached the hospital, Bryce and I literally ran up to the Emergency Room entrance. My husband ran behind the ER doors and I was left with the other concerned family members in the lobby. Tears were everywhere. I felt so helpless. That night at home, I could not fall asleep. Every time I closed my eyes, the pain of their loss was in my chest. I felt almost as if I had lost one of my children.

    One evening I was watching our local news when I heard a story of a 6-year-old boy who received a fatal blow to the head by his father in the family kitchen. As the details surrounding his abuse emerged, my heart grew troubled with compassion for this child and outrage at his father's use of force. He was severely treated by the one man who was supposed to love and protect him. I imagined what the boy’s brief years on this earth were like: a loveless life filled with unkindness, physical abuse, and chaos. I wept bitterly for a child I had never met. 

     Following this report and between heaving sobs, I imagined this boy’s final moments in detail, filling in the blanks with my overactive imagination. I hoped the “Dad” would be given the death penalty. He must be an absolute monster.  My sorrow had never been quite as vocal as it was this night. This grieving, so real and emotional, would have been embarrassing if someone had come into the room. I decided I needed to gain control of myself before my kids saw me.  I decided to hide in the adjoining bathroom and pray.  I knew the boy was in God’s tender care. He was saved from any harm ever again. I also prayed this man would get the justice he deserved. When I finished, I felt a bit better but still needed som perspective so I returned to my bed and opened my scriptures to a passage I believe was not by accident: 

“And now... I desire that ye should let these things trouble you no more and only let your sins trouble you, with that trouble which shall bring YOU down unto repentance.” Alma 42: 30

    On a very few occasions in my life, when it has been really important, I have received direct answers to my deepest concerns in specific verses of scripture. Surprisingly, this was one of those times and this is what I took from it. 

1.  The only person I can control is myself. 

2. The only one I can repent for is myself. 

3. People will receive their justice according to God whether in this life or the next. Wallowing in their mistakes is useless unless it reminds me of my own and motivates me to repent. 

4. Rather than worrying about what someone else has done, I need to “first cast out the beam out of (my)  own eye.” Luke 6:41

    With this new perspective, I have been able to handle disappointments with more grace. Everyone is on their own journey and no one is perfect, most especially me. Since that day in 2012. I have, been able to apply this scripture multiple times. Before I judge, I need first ask, "Lord, is it I?"

An Essay on the First Great Commandment

                                                 The First Great Commandment

“The Chosen ” series portrays events during Christ’s mortal ministry. It has given me new perspectives on Christ, even with the creative liberties taken to portray his and his disciples lives. 

One memorable scene includes a few of his apostles chatting around a fire, talking about Jesus’ growing fame and how they used to dream of who the Messiah would be and now they are with him.  In the background, the sound of many people gathering to be blessed by Jesus is evident. We know from their conversation that Jesus has been doing this since morning. The night grows late and finally Jesus walks past them with barely enough energy to lift his hand to say goodnight. He doesn't want food or relaxing conversastion, he just wants rest. He is utterly exhausted.  He has been about his Father’s business all day.  As I watched this scene, I recognized how Jesus literally sacrificed his own comfort or  will, to honor God. Ezra Taft Benson, 13th president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints said, “Our love for God will govern the claims of our affection, the demands on our time, the interests we pursue, and the order of our priorities.”  He further stated that we must put God in the forefront of everything and everyone else in our lives. “Why did God put the first commandment first? Because he knew that if we truly loved Him, we would want to keep all of his other commandments. . . . When we put God first, all other things fall into their proper place or drop out of our lives" (April 2, 1988). Therefore, when we put God first, whatever comes second will always be right.

If we were asked today “Lovest thou me more than these?”...What would the “these” in our life be?  For Peter, it was fishing. What occupies your thoughts, your time, your energy? What is competing for your attention? What are you willing to sacrifice or inconvenience yourself for? Do you love God more than those things? 

Russell M.  Nelson, 17th president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,  challenged us to let God prevail in our lives in October of 2020. He said, “Are you willing to let God be the most important influence in your life? Will you allow His words, His commandments, and His covenants to influence what you do each day? Will you allow His voice to take priority over any other? Are you willing to let whatever He needs you to do take precedence over every other ambition? Are you willing to have your will swallowed up in His?” (general-conference/2020/10/4)

 My brother was a CEO of a successful company he had worked very hard to grow when he was called on a 3 year mission for our church. What would 3 years do to his company he had worked so diligently to become successful? I am sure it was a concern for him, but he let God prevail in his life and left this pursuit behind.  

We were sent here to earth to prove our devotion to God. In the pre-mortal realm, the Lord said, “...We will prove them herewith, to see if they will do all things whatsoever the Lord their God shall command them.” (Abr. 3:25) 

 Second lieutenant Bob Houghton was a pilot in the Air Force during the Korean War. One day Bob Houghton and four other planes in close formation were returning to base following a mission when Bob heard a voice tell him to “turn around.” Always obedient to the commandments of God, even in war time, he felt this was a divine warning and suggested to his Major that they turn around. With no obvious reason to do so, his suggestion was brushed aside partially due to their low fuel. The impression came a second time, “Turn around,” and again Bob requested they turn around.  The Major was less tolerant of this second request and it was denied more forcefully.  Mercifully, the warning came a third time, urgently,  “Turn Now!” to which, against his Major and at the risk of a court martial, Bob Houghton announced over his headset “Turn left on my mark”. All the other planes were compelled to comply or risk collisions in the air.  The Major shouted his displeasure with Houghton.

Immediately after turning 90 degrees, the radar alarms rang, indicating migs (Russian fighter aircrafts)  nearby. Above the clouds and behind the planes where they could not be detected, were two enemy planes ready to lock on to this little 4 plane fleet and blow them out of the sky. Because Bob acted just in time, their presence was revealed and the MIGS being outnumbered, diverted quickly. Low ranking Bob Houghton saved the lives of all in his company that day. God’s voice took priority over any other, even at the risk of man’s discipline.  Which there wasn’t. Everyone, including the Major, was very grateful.

Nellie Middleton, 51, lived in bombed out city in southwestern England  with her 6-year old daughter during WWII. Due to war demands, there were no men left in the area who held the priesthood to bless the sacrament. Nellie was a faithful woman who had previously been a women’s leader so she took responsibility for the spiritual and temporal welfare of her congregation in that area. Her living room became the place the women prayed, sang, and studied together. 

One day she heard that American soldiers were stationed in her town. She was hopeful that one of those Americans might be authorized with the priesthood so she put a painted picture of the Latter-day Saint Salt Lake Temple in a business window with the words: “If any soldier is interested in the above, he will find a warm welcome at 18 Saint Paul’s Road.” 

One night there was a knock on her door, well after dark. A 20-year old American soldier from Utah had seen her picture and had come to introduce himself. Gratefully, he held the office of a priest. Now she and those she served would be able to partake of the Sacrament. 

Here was a woman who put God first in the things she pursued. Here was a young man who did the same walking all that way to determine how he could help. Those who love God first will do what He needs them to do over any other ambition.

My ggg grandmother, Harriet Heath Marler, her husband, and children, joined the church in Mississippi and desired to heed a prophet’s call by joining the saints in the Salt Lake Valley. During their journey, in St. Joe Missouri March of 1850 to be exact, the entire family, save one, contracted Cholera. Cholera took the lives of half of her family: four daughters and her husband. As her husband’s death was imminent, he pleaded with Harriet to return to Mississippi where the people knew her and would take care of her. She refused, saying she would continue to Utah. Amidst her grevious trials, she let God prevail in her life and in her decisions. When we put the things of God first, we do not consider ourselves an exception to commands and we recognize and follow prophetic counsel.

 November 30, 2019, my childhood friend and college roommate lost 9 male family members in a tragic plane crash.  She and Harriet could certainly commiserate together, but I don’t know that either of them would. I haven’t heard my friend speak or write a single word that is vengeful or pitiful or protests her unjustified circumstances. They were all covenant keepers. She could lament why they were not preserved, but instead, she praises God’s goodness and the blessing of eternal families. She speaks lovingly of her family members that she knows live on in another realm. She demonstrates her love of God by holding firm to her covenants as faithfully as always. She is refined through her fire. Her will has been swallowed up in His.

It is a puzzle to me how some are so easily offended, “cursing God”  while others endure so much and somehow increase in their devotion. I think the key factor must be who they love first. If it is God, all other things settle into the right place.  

Our current world situation is somewhat explained by the results of a national Gallup survey. It was between the beliefs of college educated Christians vs Christians without a college education.  Their findings?  "College graduates are about three times more likely than persons without a college education to put the Second Commandment (loving your neighbor) ahead of the First Commandment (loving God)." We can see what good that has done for our society as we have all sorts of identity crises’ going on. Additionally, those who were “better educated” were also 3x as likely to think you can be a true Christian without even  believing in the Divinity of Christ. (Robert Wuthnow, The Restructuring of American Religion, p. 169).

Satan doesn’t insist that we put him first for anything or anyone other than God will certainly suffice.  However, the first commandment remains in force. If we want the world to straighten out, we need to accept this reality and comply. There are no acceptions to this rule.