Monday, August 19th, we traveled north to the
Bosques de Zambrano, a forest resort,
where temple coordinators, missionaries, and
presidency were each invited to share a story and our feelings about working in
the temple.
Val’s testimony was beautiful. He introduced us, told of our family, how we met in Single Adults and how he hoped for something like this for singles in Central America. Then bore his testimony of temple work and the gospel, and whose work it is—the Savior’s.
I told how I became acquainted with the idea of going on a temple
mission. Val would print out internet
pages detailing choices of missions and read them nightly before sleeping. I was not entirely open to the idea,
being involved with the care of a parent in need, and parents in law. Then within weeks, my father and Val’s father
died.
Val opened his papers to
begin filling them out the day his father passed away. Simple faith!
My faith took longer in coming.
Sunday, the morning before our forest outing, I helped in Primary and was reminded of a
principle outlined in May's Salt Lake training—the Church’s goal is to
have no temple missionaries—the
aim is to have countries, stakes and wards step to the plate to fill every temple
position.
In Primary, Irina Soto, a college-student Primary teacher, invited
me to assist with her HLJ or CTR class.
She had been gone for a few weeks, as had I, but here she was, ready to
go. With a helper and no children
running through halls, the lesson took place.
As we learned about the brother of Jared praying over the 16 stones, building
barges, and traveling to the Promised Land, I watched her. She brought the contents of her closet, and Irina has a bigger closet. Jared’s brother was decked out in an
intricate brown table cloth. One of the Jaredite
women wore a beaded head dress.
This is really Maria, playing with the camera a few years ago, but it illustrates the point |
After
they made their barges they got to pack up canned food, cookies and
spaghetti. Then they traveled over the
wake of waves singing, “Faith is knowing the sun will rise, the start of each
new day…Faith is knowing the Lord will hear my prayer each time I pray. Faith is like a little seed, when planted it
will grow. Faith is a feeling within my
heart, when I do right, I know!” I was the solicited accompaniment, validated in
every way being there, as I observed an impressionable, capable teacher taking simple
ideas I had offered our first time teaching together, "adding upon" them in
grand style. Irina had the bull by the horns, and measurably
improving and refining outside suggestions.
Watching Irina manage and shepherd handfuls of energetic
children, brought a surge of love for my sister Carma, a Pied-Piper
childhood
expert—“Whenever it is possible to involve a child, in movement, in
imagination, in creativity, in song—do it!”
Like Primary, it looks like in a missionary visit to Honduras;
we stand as a stop gap. We hope to stand
cheerfully, accurately, and firmly where our roots are temporarily planted. The situation may ensue, as with our friend
Irina, where strong Central American Saints, baton in hand, reach to the top
shelf, happily handing out overoles (baptismal overalls), organizing sacos
(suitcoats) vestidos (dresses) towels for damas y varones (the young women and
young men.) It also may happen that the youth are trained to turn clothing
right side out and zipped before sending them through the laundry chute. Perhaps on a Saturday afternoon, all the
shifts will be covered! In the meantime,
we get the blessing of walking through this wakened dream.
from Oquirrh Mt temple similar to ours |
During one of the training meetings of our temple time at Bountiful, one of the assistant matrons, Sister Phippen, asked us if we had noticed any of the new art work that had been secured for the temple recently.
Being new, I had not. One of the points she brought up, was that in
Sealing Room Number One, there was an woven cloth that when she had seen it,
she cried.
I thought about the hand work that has come out of my hands,
in effort to echo Grandma Gee, and believe that much of it would be worth
crying over!
But as I knelt next to
something intricately stitched, I could envision one long white thread linked
over and over connecting smaller and larger patterns, each pattern essential to
create the grand whole—bound together in marvelous artisan craft. Like a happy life. Like the links of a family.
Then I looked up to wink at Val. I cannot remember a time when I have seen
what radiated from his face being more content, more at peace, more fulfilled
and happy.
I remember looking at the night sky as a teenager, wishing
on a star, “Star Light, Star Bright, first star I see tonight, wish I may, wish
I might, have the wish I wish tonight”… My constant friend Shelly wanted to
know, “What do you wish for?”
“Someone tall,
blonde, and handsome,” was my reply!
Well, here I am, and I got what I wanted.
Looking up to see him standing tall, with such a pleasant
look on his face, I thought of music from my adolescence. During family summer migrations from the east
coast to visit grandparents “Out West,” I remember stopping in Indiana to visit
friends of my parents in the early 1970’s. It was there that I remember first
listening to the Carpenters.
Mom and Dad
liked them and teen and younger aged kids enjoyed them too. No quarrel over whether music was mod enough
or suave (soft) enough to match the listeners.
Everyone sang along when a song from these sibling singers sounded from
the sound system of our family car.
One of my favorites is called “Happy.” A few of the lyrics remind me of our favorite family game: Rook.
"You can deal me in this time around
Even though the odds are high we'll play them down
"You can deal me in this time around
Even though the odds are high we'll play them down
You may be a chance I need to take
And the hand I'm holdin' says it's no mistake"
And the hand I'm holdin' says it's no mistake"
Introduce Chad and Sara |
We have adopted them to remind us of our children and teach them the fine arts of "Ladies win!" |
Part of our "happy" has come in working together at an inviting place:
Please forgive me if I seem to be walking
Through a waking dream
Laughter never came so easily
There's a freedom here that's new to me
Through a waking dream
Laughter never came so easily
There's a freedom here that's new to me
Happy is the way I'm feelin'
And I know it comes from being with you
And I know it comes from being with you
All at once my life is
changin'
And I know [why!]
And I know [why!]
Our stake president
encouraged us to make this mission a defining moment in our marriage. It is possible. Sometimes, I think both Val and I concur with
the “wakened dream” part.
Have you have
pinched yourself to determine if you are awake?
Val and I, after three months, continue to do this. We both sometime wonder if it is real that we
are here. And I pinch myself for other
reasons. If it has been a short night,
and it is my job to help with a session, sometimes more than an hour and a
half, when it is comfortable and easy to drift off, the "hand pinch" trick is
useful. I also learned at the dentist’s,
that if there is going to be something less than comfortable, if you pinch a
finger or a hand, the pain is predictable.
You know it is coming, how deep and how long. It can pique attention and the difficult can
become bearable.
Speaking of dreams-- years ago, when Grandpa Starkey was
recovering from a multiple bypass operation, we visited him, thinking it would
be our last time with him. Val awakened
telling me of a dream in the night, of buying his father a computer. Does your father type? No.
Does your mother type? No. They went out that day and bought a computer,
with which Grandpa hunted and pecked for twelve years, discovering ancestors,
cousins and relatives he had no idea belonged to him. And now we are helping to connect families of Uncle Bob’s brother with similar
momentum.
(and let’s work to discern the good ones!)
Saturday, a “hunch” while escorting five
children to and from their scheduled sealing, I remembered Amber’s baptism,
driving to Seattle from Richland and running out of gas. It was during Val’s walk to the gas station
that I thought of the book I had for Amber to write in, to share her memories
and thoughts about this special day.
So now, the children with me, just sealed, had had an experience that they
would not relive, until their own marriages—should they remember these
wonderful moments, and return. I ran to
my room and located a pile of notebooks, coupled with pens, and dashed back to
the guardaria before it was time for the youth to leave. Andrea and Jhon, ages 12 and 15, graciously
accepted my gift, promised to write, and left.
The younger two, Erick and Heaven, ages eight and four,
nodded at their sleeping sister Alma and looked longingly at the treasured little books. Would you like to write down what you felt today? Yes, they both nodded. Erick went to town with his pencil and filled the first page of his libretita. Heaven couldn’t write yet. “What did you feel, Heaven? What do you want to remember about today? “
The younger two, Erick and Heaven, ages eight and four,
nodded at their sleeping sister Alma and looked longingly at the treasured little books. Would you like to write down what you felt today? Yes, they both nodded. Erick went to town with his pencil and filled the first page of his libretita. Heaven couldn’t write yet. “What did you feel, Heaven? What do you want to remember about today? “
“I felt clean. I felt pretty. I felt like a princess. The temple was clean. It was pretty, and very sacred. I want my family to be together forever!”
I did not know that a four year old would
know the word “sacred.” And I was
surprised to read Erick’s writings, talking about a “dia dichoso,” a word I
remember from memorizing words in Hymn #2, the part about a happy day!
My heart was gladdened. And a little child shall lead them. And I wanted to save in my heart all of the
things that these children chose to have in their books.
Milestones for the week:
Jake returned from his Air Force meeting to scoop Amber off to
Atlanta.
Maria and Grandma watched the
children while
Kristen and Amber soaked in Education Week. Kristen and Zach gave amazing discourses in
church (that they have notes for—ask them—it will make you want to improve your
life every day!)
Zach is my reminder of “dia dichoso” (a red-haired trait Brother
James tells me is a trait of Ephraim tribe cousins!)
And Zach helped give us a red-haired
Savanna,
Thomas and Eleanor have gone camping with Daddy,
Mommy and (1 month old) Evelyn!
Brent
has just about finished painting the Roberts' Renton house, while Brianne, between helping, and working, herds the roost, encouraging siblings and children's cousins.
Good news! Brent got accepted into Boeing’s
college work-study program.
Speaking of work and study, Jannette is helping to consult Dad with good eating practices; and Spencer will soon start preschool
with Zoey.
Maria, writing countless missionary friends in parts beyond, is readying to return to BYU for Provo adventures.
One night this past week, Maria was absent from dinner over the weekend at our
Kaysville home, meeting friends for baptisms at the Bountiful temple, her place
at the table was empty. “Where is Auntie
Maria, Mommy?” asked William.
"Maria is at the temple."
“Oh! With Grandma Lolly!”
Well, not exactly the same temple.
“Oh! With Grandma Lolly!”
Well, not exactly the same temple.
But a two year old is remembering someone who loves him and can talk about where she is. "Happy is the way I’m feeling" about that!
Blessings to you, as you follow your hunches, as you pinch
a hand to endure challenges or stay awake, to be assured that the dreams you are walking are real. We
love you!
Hermana Laurene and Elder Val
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