DIRTY DISHES & A LESSON IN GRATITUDE

DIRTY DISHES & A LESSON IN GRATITUDE

As Thanksgiving approaches, I couldn’t help but reflect back on two elderly women I met while working as a home health physical therapist a few years ago.  These two women from neighboring cities greatly altered my view of what it really means to be grateful for what you have, no matter what your circumstances.

One woman had suffered from years of severe, debilitating arthritis throughout her body, for which she had undergone more joint and spinal surgeries than she could count.  On top of that, she was also suffering from a type of cancer and had just concluded a vicious round of chemotherapy right before I was called in to assist her.  As I reviewed her medical file before going to see her for the first time, I expected to encounter a downtrodden and emotionally spent soul.  But to my shock and amazement, I instead discovered a woman who wore a constant jubilant smile, and literally exuded joy and happiness from her presence.

As I began to visit with her and assess her physical condition, which was every bit as worn down as her medical history indicated it would be, I couldn’t help but finally ask her, “How is it that you are able to stay so happy and positive considering all you have been through and are still suffering?”

Joyful tears came to her eyes, and it took her a moment to compose herself before she answered, motioning to all the family pictures which literally lined the walls of her home, “Just look at all of this family and posterity I have. Some of them I haven’t seen in quite some time because they live far away, and (with a teasing wink in her eye) some I see more often than I would like, but I have been blessed to have all of these wonderful souls be a part of my existence, and because of my faith in Jesus Christ and his great plan of salvation, I know that I will have all of them as a part of my existence through eternity as well.  Isn’t that the most joyous thing you have ever heard?  How could I be sad, knowing that even after all I have been through, that I can have my family and loved ones forever?”

I was deeply humbled by her gratitude for the Lord, and despite all she had suffered, and continued to suffer, that she refused to see anything but the blessings of family and loved ones in her life.  Her vision of faith greatly inspired me and helped me realize how many things I took for granted far too often in my own life.  My visits with her are cherished memories and lessons in optimism.

The second woman also suffered some longstanding debility from a previous stroke, as well as other medical conditions.  When I first met her and entered her house, I could feel a definite spirit to her home.  I couldn’t really define it, but it was palpable.  We visited for a few minutes and while I was providing some treatment with her, I asked about her life, how long she had lived there, and so forth.

She told me that she had 7 children all fairly close together, one of them severely crippled, and then unexpectedly, her husband had passed away, leaving her to raise those 7 children, the oldest of which was 11 and the youngest only about 10 months old.  Less than 6 months later her crippled child also passed away, and she thought she would never recover.  But the night after her child’s funeral she had a very spiritual experience (which is far too personal and sacred to discuss in this informal setting) but she said it forever changed her perspective.

She then told me, “All those tough years that followed, trying to scrape by a living and raise my other remaining 6 children, I went to bed every night and thanked the Lord for dirty laundry and dirty dishes!”

I kind of laughed at this statement, but that was only because I didn’t understand its meaning.  She went on to explain, “I praised the Lord every time I washed dirty dishes because that meant that my children had food to eat that day.  And every time I hand washed the dirty laundry, I thanked the Lord that my children had clothes to wear.  The Lord took care of me, and always provided sufficient for our needs.  We never had much, but we never went without.”

Once again, I was humbled by how often I had taken so many simple things for granted in my life.  This woman had endured through trials I would never know, and yet, had seen only God’s hand blessing her and her family through their meager existence.

What these two women taught me through their joyful, living examples, was what President Russell M. Nelson recently shared in the October 2016 General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, when he said, “Life is filled with detours and dead ends, trials and challenges of every kind. Each of us has likely had times when distress, anguish, and despair almost consumed us.  Yet we are here to have joy…  My dear brothers and sisters, the joy we feel has little to do with the circumstances of our lives and everything to do with the focus of our lives… (Because of) Jesus Christ and His gospel, we can feel joy regardless of what is happening – or not happening – in our lives.  Joy comes from and because of Him.  He is the source of all joy.”

Such words ring as resounding and uplifting truth to our ears, but how often do we hear such wisdom, and fail to apply it in our own lives and circumstances?  What these two women showed me by their living examples, is that true joy and happiness, and deep abiding gratitude, CAN be found and truly experienced as a part of any reality IF we focus on the source of joy in our lives, rather than be distracted by all the trivial matters which otherwise weigh us down and make us feel like victims of our circumstances.

So at this time of Thanksgiving, may we lift our gaze upward, and not just speak the words of thanksgiving for a day, and then revert back to our prior lives, but may our hearts truly feel that gratitude for all of our countless blessings, and our eyes be changed to see all that we truly have to be thankful for!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

PAYDAY & A RAISE

PAYDAY & A RAISE

I remember back many years ago, when as a young, and still fairly new physical therapist, I started a new job.  It just so happened that because of when I started this job, and how that date fell into my employers pay cycle, that I had to work for almost a full month before my first paycheck came.

As a young father with 2 children and my wife expecting our third, going that long between paychecks put more than a bit of a strain on us financially.  That combined with all the stress of trying to learn the new systems, facilities, procedures and responsibilities at my new job, gradually took its toll.  Although I was doing my best to be a good employee and an inspiring therapist to the clients I was working with each day, I have to admit that as the end of that not-yet-paid 4 week cycle came around, I began to wonder if I had made a mistake.  Was I ever going to get paid at all?

When that first payday finally rolled around, my employer called me into his office for an interview.  As he handed me that first check, he thanked me for the good job I had been doing.  He stated that some of the other staff in the facility had mentioned good things about me and were happy I was there.  He also took a few minutes to offer some kind and encouraging suggestions of how I could continue to improve as I became gradually more familiar with everything in the charting and billing systems, and in meeting the insurance requirements but also expressed his confidence in my ability to continue to excel in my performance.

He closed by thanking me for being a part of the therapy team there, and as he stood to shake my hand, he smiled and looked me in the eye and said, “And because you have started out so well and I can tell you are doing your best, even though you’ve just started with us, I also want to pretend like it’s a new job offer and give you a small raise as a token of my appreciation for your efforts, which are so needed in our organization.”

Wow!!!  In just an instant I had gone from a somewhat worn out, frustrated employee, to feeling full of life and rejuvenation!  I went on to work many years at that establishment, and felt a loyalty and commitment to them far beyond any previous place I had ever worked to that point in time.

I happened to reflect on that memory this Sunday afternoon, and I realized that initial employment situation is similar in many ways to my life each week.

Each Monday morning I set out with the intention of being a good person, the best employee I can at work, wanting to be a better husband to my wife and a better father to my children.  I want to be full of kind thoughts, and not be judgmental or frustrated with others around me.  I seek to be kind and helpful to those I come in contact with, and perhaps be a bit quicker to pick up on things without having to learn the hard way.

But alas, each day and week seems to take its toll, and are soon littered with faults, mistakes and frustrations along the way.  No matter how hard I try, I can never quite measure up to the perfection in achieving the goals I have set for myself, and by the time Sunday morning rolls around, I still carry many of the wounds I have inflicted upon myself and others, and sometimes wonder if it was all worth it.

But then a remarkable thing happens when I go to Church.  In our weekly congregational meeting, the simple yet sacred ordinance of the Sacrament is blessed and offered by designated priesthood authorities.

It is a time of personal reflection with my Savior about how the week has gone as I partake of those emblems of His atoning sacrifice.  I ponder on the many faults I still carry in my soul, mixed with the desires I have to be more a Christ like and good person.

And I find it is much like sitting with my old boss at that first meeting.  The Lord, through the tender mercies of His Spirit, offers praise for my feeble efforts, along with suggestions of how I can continue to improve.  His love is present to let me know that He is pleased with my being there as a part of His team, and then, despite my many shortcomings and failures, He offers blessings for my imperfect efforts and He even offers me a spiritual raise by wiping my slate completely clean and letting me start anew once again.  He lets me know that it is worth the effort, to keep trying again in the coming week, and that if I will continue to do my best for Him and those around me that He will always be willing to stay committed to me and always wants to have me as part of His organization.

It may seem like such a small and simple thing, which can be so easily overlooked and forgotten about, much like I had forgotten getting that first paycheck and raise at work all those many years ago.  But if I constantly look forward to that weekly “job performance” review and interview, then the pay is always much more than I deserve, and the spiritual raise always comes, every time, without fail.  And it is available to every single one of us each and every week if we are willing, eager and longingly seek for that spiritual interview and renewal.

In reality, these moments of spiritual cleansing, renewal and raising have so very little to do with the adequacy of our efforts, and literally EVERYTHING to do with His vast love for us and His desire for us to succeed.

But if those are the remarkably generous terms of our employment contract with Him… well, I am willing to keep that job for the rest of my life and the eternities beyond.

Happy Sabbath Everyone!  And I hope we never tire or make commonplace the sacred ordinance of the Sacrament and what that really means to each and every one of us!

Coached for Life

Coached for Life

In the middle of a business meeting today, some comments brought to memory and took me back to my glory days on the football gridiron.  I previously made mention of another important lesson I learned while playing high school football in a different post, The Triumph of Defeat, but this message is about something altogether different.

Today, my message is about my relationship with a man who helped shape my life in countless ways, and who will always be a legend in my mind - My former High School football coach.

Football took me on a journey, to say the least.  When I first started playing grid-kid football in the 4^th and 5^th grade, I actually played Quarterback and linebacker.

4th Grade, First year playing football

That might come as a surprise to some, but in one game in 5^th grade while playing for a team in rural Menan, Idaho, I was the only player to score any points in the entire game… for either team, in what ended up being a 32-0 win.

5th grade football picture (with my dog photobombing)

After moving to the Rexburg area, I played my 6^th-8^th grade years playing fullback and linebacker.

7th Grade football team - many of these guys played with me all the way through high school

But, as sometimes happens, puberty kicked in, combined with a terrible bout of Bronchitis which rendered me sedentary for several months and caused me to miss my sophomore year due to transitory Asthma. As a result, going into my junior year I found that I had unexpectedly grown myself into an offensive lineman.

Our head coach at Madison High School was Preston Haley, and coincidentally, he was also the offensive and defensive line coach, which meant that during positional drills in practice each day, I spent a good amount of time under his watchful and demanding tutelage.

Each afternoon brought a gauntlet of arduous drills: driving a heavy blocking sled until our legs felt like jello, foot and hand movement coordination exercises, mano-a-mano gladiator blocking battles, and countless other calisthenics which I felt sure Coach Haley had conjured up for us while studying from some ancient medieval torture manuals.

As happens with most teenagers still trying to find out who they actually are and what is really going on in life, I was probably pretty self-centered and overly self-conscious. So whenever Coach Haley called me out for a lackluster effort or a missed blocking assignment, I wondered if perhaps he had it out for me.

During one particular game, while playing a bigger school from a division above our own, I had the assignment as the left guard, to pull around the right end on a designed reverse play. The play worked perfectly, and as I pulled around into the open field with the receiver close behind me running up the sideline, there was only one defender who hadn’t fallen for the fake.  All I had to do was block or interfere with the smaller defensive back enough to allow our speedy receiver to sprint past towards what was a certain touchdown.

But as I planted my cleat in the wet turf to make the block, I slipped a bit and stumbled at the defenders knees, allowing him to recover enough to make the tackle.  As I pushed up from grass, already feeling miserable for missing the block, I looked up at our sideline only a few feet away, and to my horror, was right at the feet of a clearly frustrated Coach Haley!

“You’ve got to make that block!” He bellowed.

To say I was embarrassed would be an understatement.  I felt as if I had let not only the entire team down, but also all of the fans who had come to watch the game.  Luckily, we went on to win that game.  But the next Monday in practice, Coach Haley still remembered.

During positional drills he set up that play and made me run that pulling blocking assignment at least a dozen times in a row until both he and I were convinced that I would never miss that block again.

It was during times like that, as an insecure teenager, that I sometimes wondered why I was playing football.  Why was I subjecting myself to the grueling practices?  Why was it really so important to be able to perform the blocking sequence of “Step. Explode. Drive!” relentlessly over and over again?  When I woke up in the mornings only to discover new bruises and deep aching muscles that I never knew existed, was it really all worth it?

Sometimes I wondered about such things and questioned my commitment during those dog days of practice.  But all of the sweat, blood and tears, along with the tough, demanding and ever-present gaze of Coach Haley lead to one thing… Winning!

During the 4 years from 9^th – 12^th grade, my class of football athletes only lost one game and won 3 consecutive State Championships.

1984 State Championship Team - (So many good memories with the men in this picture)

Coach Haley demanded intense effort and execution each and every day at practice, and sometimes, as in my case, we didn’t always appreciate it in the heat of the moment.  But when game time came around, and we were dominating our opponents in front of cheering fans in the stands, the thrill and sweet taste of victory swallowed up all the pain of the practice fields.

The timeless lessons about life which Coach Haley invested countless hours ingraining into a scrappy bunch of teenagers have surely rippled out throughout the lives of every young man he interacted with.  What could have easily been mistaken for harsh, judgmental correction, was actually motivated by a desire to instill into a bunch of impressionable adolescents a vastly important lesson… To improve and achieve success, it takes effort… consistent, persistent and refining effort over and over again.  But also the realization that the effort is worth it!

Winning on the football gridiron, at your job, or within the walls of your home with your family all take effort.  Surely we will make mistakes and occasionally “miss an important blocking assignment” along the way.  But that doesn’t mean that you are going to be benched, or that you can’t pick yourself back up, dust yourself off, and try again, and again, and again until you get it right.  It just takes effort and a willingness to receive some coaching, and give it your all.

What Preston Haley helped me realize is that having someone around who cares enough to correct you when you make a mistake is important.  It might feel a bit awkward or uneasy at the time, but most people around us actually want us to succeed and be a winner in life.  So we need to take corrective advice and suggestions from our parents, friends, co-workers, etc… for what they are - An opportunity to improve and become better, so we aren’t doomed to repeat those same mistakes over and over again.

As hard as those embarrassing and challenging moments were in the moment, they helped shape me into the man I am today.  Instead of hating Coach Haley for his “tough love”, we learned from, deeply respected and were willing to walk through fire for him and strive to improve and become better… and that is what made him and us all winners!

Newspaper clipping of us celebrating our State Championship victory
(that's me yelling right behind #32 & #75, my good friends Troy Hastings and Rod Jones, and my future brother-in-law Derek Jensen is #45 on the far left)

And that is the way our relationship may often feel with our Heavenly Father.  Although He has a profound love and compassion for us, He also desires us to improve and become better in every way of life… and sometimes that means asking more of us.  To become more kind and forgiving, even when it is hard.  To have to work, struggle and reach to find the spiritual and temporal answers we seek.  It’s not because He doesn’t want to give us those blessings, but because He wants us to be changed in the process.  And that process takes practice and repetition to ingrain those reactions into the very fiber of our souls, so that when those “game time” moments in life come, we will be able to rise to the occasion and be victorious because of the opportunities He has already provided us to practice those skills in our daily lives.

So here is a shout out to all the amazing “Coaches” in our lives, who care enough to help us become better!  We are ALL worth the effort!

Coach Haley, Myself, and a former teammate, Derek Jensen, who became my brother-in-law at a football game in 2015 in which Coach Haley was honored during the halftime ceremony.  He will always be a legend in my mind!
(His dear wife Mary is standing behind us in the background)

Enveloped and Embraced

Enveloped and Embraced

A few days ago, I happened to have a few days off work, and because of some car trouble, we weren’t able to make a long road trip to visit some of our kids for the weekend.  But after a long hard day of doing some much needed fall clean-up work in the yard, my wife came up with the brilliant idea that at least we could take a shorter trip to a nearby Hot Springs for a relaxing time together.

It was cool and rainy, and after a long, hard day of yard work the prior day, a warm soak in a mineral hot springs seemed just like the ticket to recovery.  It was still early in the morning when we arrived, and it wasn’t very crowded yet, so I decided to just find a remote area of one of the soaking pools to just relax and meditate for a few minutes.

As I closed my eyes, and tried to clear my mind of my worries, it soon became apparent that there was more noise and distractions than I had anticipated:  The pattering of the rain on the canopy above me, and on the open water nearby, splashes and conversations of other visitors in other areas of the pools, cars and semi-trucks rumbling by on the highway nearby, and countless other interferences were still bombarding my senses.  I momentarily felt myself wishing I just had the place all to myself for a period of time.

In this temporary state of diversion, while focusing on trying to block out everything around me, the profound thought suddenly hit me, that despite all of these commotions, I had almost neglected to realize that I was still completely surrounded by the warm, enveloping embrace of the hot springs.

Taking a moment to instead concentrate on how wonderfully those mineral waters felt, I quickly felt the tension and stress begin to leave me.  And when I opened my eyes, instead of seeing or noticing all of the distractions, I noticed how peaceful my surrounding actually were:  The steam rising gently upward through the cool downfall of rain, the beautiful landscaping of the rocks and bushes around me.

The mountain hillsides rising upward with a full display of fall colors.

And most importantly, my wonderful wife was right there beside me to enjoy the experience with me!

In this life, ALL of it is part of the experience.  There are countless interruptions, noises and the rainy days of life that threaten to distract and disrupt us from the plans we may have for ourselves.  And if we focus solely on those things, then we will come to think that our experience is one of only frustration.

But through all of these experiences, if we pause to notice it, there is actually the constant, warm and loving embrace of Heaven, which literally surrounds us at all times.

It is simply just always there whether we recognize it or not.  But when we shift our perspective to focus upon that enveloping embrace, we begin instead to see the beauty of all that surrounds us.

And that perspective and realization makes all the difference in what we experience!

“Wherever we are in life, there are times when all of us have challenges and struggles. Although they are different for each, they are common to all.  …Heavenly Father loves you—each of you. That love never changes. It is not influenced by your appearance, by your possessions, or by the amount of money you have in your bank account. It is not changed by your talents and abilities. It is simply there. It is there for you when you are sad or happy, discouraged or hopeful. God’s love is there for you whether or not you feel you deserve love. It is simply always there.” – President Thomas S. Monson

The Progression of Reality

The Progression of Reality

I felt prompted today to write of and experience I had in the Rexburg, Idaho temple sometime in the fall of 2015.

As I usually try to do, I had been preparing myself throughout the day prior to attending, so as to invite the Spirit prayerfully into my heart and be open to learn and be instructed during my time in the temple.  I also arrived early before the session, so I could have time to sit in the chapel area and pray and prepare myself before the session started.

As myself and the other patrons were eventually led by the officiators into the first room, representing the world in which we now live, I found myself seated next to a young man who appeared to be in his early to mid-20s, most likely a college student from BYU-Idaho.  He was trim, with blond hair and glasses, but I noticed almost immediately that he was chewing some bubble gum.  As the lights dimmed and the movie presentation began, he began to chew on his gum more vigorously, and also began quietly, but consistently blowing small bubbles of gum, then pull the bubble of gum back into his mouth with a muffled “pop” and then begin earnestly chewing and repeating the process over again.  As the session progressed, he also began to nervously bounce his foot up and down, first one leg, then another.

I have to admit, that I was quite distracted throughout the session, and as our time in the first room progressed, I found myself getting annoyed, frustrated and focused upon him rather than paying attention to what was being taught.  But I didn’t say anything, not wanting to add to any of the distraction for the other patrons, but in my heart I was passing judgment on his behaviors as being inappropriate for the environment of the temple.  After all, his behaviors were detracting and preventing me from having the temple experience I was personally seeking after.

As the ordinance progressed the time approached for us to move to the next room, and while walking into the brighter and lighter space, I determined that I was going to try to quit paying attention to the young man, and instead try to more fully focus on the ordinance itself.  After all, I had been preparing myself all day to come to the temple, not only to do some ordinance work for one of my ancestors, but to also be instructed by the Lord with what He wanted me to learn that day.  The young man sat next to me, and his behaviors still continued, but I was more successful in feeling the Spirit as I blocked out much of the distraction and focused on the sacredness of the experience and looking forward to progressing towards what was still to come.

Later, once in the Celestial room, representative of passing into Heaven, I breathed a sigh of relief and finally put all of my previous thoughts and frustrations aside and spent a few moments in prayer, asking the Lord to open my eyes and help me be open to anything He might want to teach me.  After a few moments I felt prompted to open my eyes.

As I looked up, I almost instantly noticed the fidgeting young man seated a short way across the room.  His eyes were closed, his feet planted on the floor evenly in front of him, his back upright but his head bowed.  His hands were placed out on top of his thighs but struggled to stay still as they grasped and then released the fabric of his pants.  But it was the agony on his face that struck me the most.  His features were contorted in frustration, and as my eyes and heart were suddenly opened by the Spirit, I realized how hard he was fighting just to try to stay still and pray… but his body would not let him do so.

My heart instantly became changed as I realized for the first time, that this young man must suffer from some type of disorder that made it almost impossible for him to hold still.  I considered that with such a condition, what a monumental effort of faith it must take to have to force yourself to sit in one place for nearly two hours of an endowment session.  Now, having endured through it all, he simply wanted to find a few moments of relief in the Celestial room, and be able to pray in peace and stillness to his Heavenly Father… but it was a bitter fight against his fidgeting flesh to do so.

My heart reach out towards this young man and up towards heaven in his behalf.  Now, rather than judgement, I had a glimpse of understanding and my soul welled up instead with compassion and pleading for him that he could find a least a few moments of the stillness and peace he so desperately sought after in this holy place.

Looking around the room, I quickly noticed other patrons in prayer and contemplation.  One man sat off in the corner, bent forward with his elbows upon his knees and his hands clasped earnestly together.  His brow was knit with concern and his mouth silently opened and closed in a fervent and heartfelt prayer that only Heaven could hear.  I pondered over who he might be praying for with such energy and conviction, perhaps a wayward prodigal child?  Or maybe a loved one suffering from a significant health condition?  Perhaps a wife who was struggling with her testimony?  I did not know, but it was evident that his emotions were of such depth that certainly a loving Heavenly Father could not help but hear and understand the feelings of this man’s soul.

With my eyes opened in such a manner, I realized that all the patrons in the room were quietly facing their own personal situations, seeking for answers, peace and comfort that could not be found in the world outside.  But in faith, they were all here with me.  I closed my eyes and the nature of my prayer changed, not to seeking that the Lord would answer my own selfish, personal prayers and petitions, but that He would accept some small measure of my faith and instead grant the struggling souls of those around me with the desires that they were righteously seeking for.

Suddenly, the Spirit shifted my focus from the others back to myself, and I realized that what I had come seeking in my own journey to the temple had been provided and answered all along.  I had come to seek for the further light and understanding that the Lord wanted me to know… and it had been granted.

In the Telestial environment, representative of the world in which we live, I had been easily distracted by the things around me, and was quick to pass judgement and lose focus on the things of greater importance.  My eyes and understanding were veiled to some degree and with my attention diverted away from the Lord, I had passed through much of the experience missing what was being taught by ordinance itself.  I was too concerned and judgmental about others, who seemed to be interfering with what I thought should be happening for my own benefit.

As I shifting my focus more towards the Lord and less on the temporal distractions around me, I was led into a room of more light and taught about a higher degree of consecration and commitment to do God’s will, and those things which had bothered me before were of far less importance to what I was experiencing previously.

Finally, advancing to a Celestial environment, my eyes were finally opened and I was allowed to see things more as they really are.  My attention was shifted not away from those around me, but instead I was directed to look back upon them, but with eyes that now saw and understood more from God’s perspective.  Rather than judgement, I was moved with compassion and sought for their welfare rather than my own selfish desires… and by having that shift in focus, I finally received and was taught through the Spirit, the great and profound lesson the Lord wanted to teach me, and what I needed to come and find that day for myself.

I realize from this experience, that the goal in life, and part of the purpose of the temple, is to not only teach us about the great blessings which are waiting to be claimed after we pass through the veil of mortality and into the heavens beyond, but is instead to teach us how to see with progressively more light.  In that revealing light we can focus more intently upon the Lord, become less distracted and frustrated by those around us, and  be able to see things… right here and right now in our present living situation… from a more heavenly vantage point.  In doing so, we are able to see others and life around us more in the way the Savior sees them, and shift our focus away from our own personal desires, instead to doing the will of the Father and lifting, praying for and helping those around us through their own struggles and challenges.

With this higher form of living and seeing and serving, I believe we don’t have to wait to pass through the veil to the other side, but instead will invite more of Heaven into our own hearts each and every day along the way.

As C.S. Lewis wrote: “Earth, I think, will not be found by anyone to be in the end a very distinct place. I think earth, if chosen instead of Heaven, will turn out to have been, all along, only a region in hell:  and earth, if put second to Heaven, to have been from the beginning a part of Heaven itself.”

SPROUTING WINGS

I remember once when I was a young boy of about 5-6 years old, I had an extremely vivid dream during which I found myself able to fly around like Superman.  In this dream I was flying above the town in which I lived, buzzing over my house and around my neighborhood, while all the neighbor kids were jealously looking up and cheering at me.

It was such a feeling of complete joy and exhilaration to be able to swoop and soar at will with complete control over the laws and effects of gravity and the world below me, that when I eventually awoke from this dream and came to the sad realization that I couldn’t really fly… I sobbed into my pillow for quite some time.

I also remember going to Sunday school as a young boy and being surprised when my teacher told me that the angels mentioned in the scriptures don’t really have wings.  I was baffled wondering “how would they be able to fly around, protect us and do what God wanted them to do if they don’t have wings?”

While this was confusing to me as a child, I later learned about how the Lord uses symbolism to teach certain principles or doctrines, and that sometimes things are figurative in their meaning.  I have also discovered that when the Lord speaks in the scriptures, the meaning of what He says is usually masterfully layered, so that over time and depending on the Spirit with which we read them, the same words or verses can open up to new and different levels of understanding.

Just this past week, as I happened to be studying in Isaiah I came across verse 2 of chapter 6, in which it mentions that Isaiah saw seraphim, “each one had six wings; with twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly.”

This once again caused me to ponder over the possible meaning of these “wings”, so I did a little looking and came to find out that the original Hebrew word for wings is “kenapayim” which can also be translated as "veil" or “refuge.”  Some scholars suggest this may refer to a "protective field" or form of energy field which allows God’s angels to move about with power and also conceal or manifest themselves at will.

This got me thinking of how the Lord, in several instances, describes himself “as a hen gathereth her chicks under her wings" (in a protective, veiling and concealing manner) "but ye would not".

In this world of fluctuating moral standards, shifting political landscapes, uncertain economic futures, and general unpredictability, we probably all find ourselves at times, running around like a scared Chicken Little, wondering when the sky is going to fall on our heads.

If we could only allow ourselves to more fully trust in and come unto Him, instead of running about like a bunch of scared chicks trying to do things in our own feeble way, we could be enveloped in His protective “wings” (power, energy and refuge) and be thus more empowered to move about in our lives with the ability to do His will (like his angels) as well as be veiled and protected from the influence of the world and the adversary.

“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31

Lord, give us "wings" so that we might fly!

I’m sure that once we are able to gain those kind of wings, it will be much more exhilarating and fulfilling than the fleeting flight of my childish dreams.

Night Terrors – Why God lets us find our way to the Light

I am generally a pretty good sleeper.  In fact, the problem usually comes in the waking up department.  But as time has gone on and the years have accumulated, my bladder seems to be helping me wake up at a decent hour whether I am ready or not.  But getting a good, consistent, restful night sleep hasn’t always been the case.

            Back when I was a graduate student, our second son who was between 2-3 years old at the time, suffered from what came to be known as “night terrors.”  For some unknown reason, about 3 to 4 nights a week, he would wake up screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.  At first this was extremely disturbing, as his cries were literally blood-curdling, as if he was being tortured, or subjected to the worst horrors imaginable.

            My wife and I would be jolted out of a sound slumber, which after a long day of graduate studies was a prized possession, to what sounded like the boogie man had come out from under our son’s bed or closet to torment him.  During those first few episodes, my heart would suddenly be pounding as my parental instincts kicked in, and the adrenaline began pumping, and I would jump out of bed ready to fight to the death with whoever or whatever was in our apartment attacking my son.

We would get him out of bed, inspect him for signs of trauma, wondering if he had been bitten by some spider or something, but never finding anything.  His eyes would be open, completely wide-eyed, but glazed over as if he were lost in another terrifying dimension.  We would hold him, hug him, speak soothing words to him and try to get him to calm down as he thrashed around like a wild-man.  As a father, I have never felt so helpless as during those moments, when it seemed that there was nothing I could do to help ease what fictitious events were going on his mind.  There was no enemy to defend him from, and our efforts to calm him would allow him to drift back off to fitful sleep, only to awaken both him and us 20-30 minutes later to the same terrified cries once again.  When we would awaken exhausted the next morning after little sleep, our son would be happy and fine, and have absolutely no recollection of any bad dreams or being up with us at all.

We took him to doctors, who examined and tested him, and diagnosed him with what they called, “Night Terrors”, which they explained were not extremely uncommon among children and even in more rare cases among some adults.  It is a condition similar to a nightmare, but magnified with great intensity and depth, and often accompanied with physical thrashing and/or sleep walking.  The doctors were sympathetic, but pretty much told us to just deal with it and eventually he would “probably” grow out of it.

As the sleepless night accumulated over time, they began to take their toll, as all of our efforts to try and make him wake up and come out of his trance-like states, only led to prolonged and repeated episodes throughout those particular nights.  I can only imagine what our neighbors through the apartment walls must have thought we were doing to our children, and looking back, am surprised we weren’t turned in to child protective services to be investigated for abuse, as I’m sure it sounded like we were conducting pagan rituals on our children.

One night, as another episode drug my wife and I wearily out of bed, I carried him down the stairs of our townhouse apartment and feeling too tired to try to hold and deal with his thrashings, just laid him down on the carpet in the middle of the living room, sat next to my wife on the couch and decided to just let him deal with it.  He went through his normal twisting contortions and ear-splitting screams for several minutes, and even got up and staggered around, all the time with his eyes wide open and filled with that terrified, glazed over, haunted look.

But then something happened…. All of the sudden he quit walking and thrashing around, stopped where he was standing in the middle of the floor, his eyes focused on my wife and I, he looked around as if he was thinking, ‘what are you  doing up in the middle of the night?’ and he said, “I’m tired and want to go to bed.”  My wife and I looked at each other in surprise, got him a drink of water and he walked himself back up the stairs to his bedroom and then he fell quickly back asleep, and slept well through the remainder of the evening without another episode.

These episodes still occurred randomly over the next year or so, but mercifully gradually tapered off in their intensity and frequency.  All of our initial attempts, although done out of care and loving concern, had been focused on physically trying to comfort him and forcefully wake him up from his delusional states, only to have him experience the horrible episodes over and over again throughout the night. What we realized was, that if we just kept our distance and made sure he didn’t severely injury himself, he would eventually come to his senses, wake up and realize that he wanted to be back in his bed where it was more comfortable and he could rest.

Somehow, we all survived those many long nights, and eventually (Hallelujah!!!) he quit having the night terrors all together.  Today, as something sparked those memories in my brain, I also had a realization of how those experiences mirror much about how our loving Heavenly Father reacts to our troubles in life.

In the scriptures, the apostle Paul taught that in this life, “We see through a glass darkly” (1 Corinthians 13:12).

Much like our young son, we often walk about with glazed eyes, clouded over by our worldly cares and concerns which haunt our thoughts and distort our perception of the reality and true purpose of why we are experiencing the things we are going through.

This mortal journey is fraught with countless experiences which cause us grief, heartache, sorrow, and unfortunately sometimes even encounters with true wickedness and evil which inflict their terrors upon us.  Our wise Heavenly Father, although He cares for us with an unending love and compassion, realizes that if He were to immediately step in and try to forcefully fix every trauma that came our way, we would likely not come to a realization of our situation for ourselves, (and much like our son re-living his terrors over and over) we would very likely end up repeating the same mistakes and heartache over and over again… much like a bad nightmare.

Instead, He knows that if he watches over us from a distance, and provides enough support to make sure we don’t inure ourselves too badly, that eventually we will “awake” from our situation, and realize that we don’t really like where things have taken us.  Once we come to an awareness of things as they really are, and can shed the irrationality of our earthly concerns and worries, we are able to choose, by our own volition, to walk to higher spiritual ground where His peace and rest await us.

Too often in life, we want to cry out towards the Heavens, through our glazed over spiritual eyes, and wonder why, if Heavenly Father love us, does He seem to stand back and let us struggle and thrash around without providing a means of deliverance for us from the unpleasantness of our situations.  But in reality, He knows from vast and perfect experience, that the only way we can truly find the comfort and lasting peace He has to offer us, is through allowing us to come to our senses and choose to take ourselves out of those feelings and situations.  Once we use our agency and come to terms with those realities around us, then He can truly change us into what He knows we have the potential to become.

As I mentioned, our son was able to eventually grow out of those horrible childhood night terrors, and has gone on to live a normal, successful and wonderful life and has even married and become a father of his own children.

Much in the same way, if we can awaken from our spiritual slumbers, we can choose to grow out of our own self-imposed “night terrors” and with the Lord’s divine guidance, walk along His path to something better… even progressing to become like Him!

“When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” – (1 Corinthians 13:11)