Bolivia May, 2024 (part 1)

In May, Randy and I took an adventurous trip to Bolivia.  The land of Randy's beloved 2 year church mission that he served 50 years ago.  We learned about a trip like this several years back, while attending one of his mission reunions.  There was a Bolivian speaker, Segundo.  He was introduced by a past missionary acquaintance when Randy served, Jim.  At the time, we were educated about a humanitarian effort that was organized to help Bolivians live a cleaner (water), healthier (medical expertise), and more educated lives for their families and many communities.  It was a nice presentation, and after wards, life went on.  We had just gotten home from our mission to Hawaii, and family was our priority.

About a year ago, our dear friends, Laurie and Larry Ball called Randy to ask if he knew Jim Arbuckle. (Randy's missionary friend) They were serving a mission in Minnesota and had been offering humanitarian service for a group called Mano a Mano, from Bolivia. How could we both know Jim?   It turns out, Jim has a summer home in Minnesota and a winter home in AZ.  He also works closely with Segundo's Mano a Mano, the same humanitarian organization we learned about at the reunion a few years earlier. Segundo is a Bolivian, with roots and family that live there, and is in close contact with the success of Mano a Mano from Minnesota and Bolivia.  

About February, Laurie called to see if we were interested in a trip to Bolivia in May.  There was a group of 15 going, including Jim and his wife (who had both been there with this group before) and coincidentally, Laurie and Larry were both going.  It was a no brainer.  Good friends, and back to Randy's mission that impacted his life forever.  How could we say no, except that Randy was just finishing radiation treatments.  We gave them a "we're pretty sure we're in", with high hopes of not having to worry about the test results.

We knew it wasn't going to be a leisurely, flawless trip.  This was Bolivia.  A land that looks exactly like the National Geographic's depiction.  Traditional clothing, food, celebrations, homesteads, windy dirt roads that connect little communities miles apart, across the Andes mountains.  Tropical terrains, jungles, cool altitudes, and plenty of dirt.  But breath taking.  And humbling as we could see their needs, and the wisdom and love in their eyes.

The Main Thing

The Main thing

is to keep

the Main thing

the Main thing.

     (Elder Gong)

Jesus Christ is our Main thing.  My love for him runs deep.  I am a sponge for learning and knowing about him.  I owe him everything.  

Another Awakening

     Last Friday morning our ukulele group practiced in the park.  (The Senior Center was closed because of Veteran's Day)   Our seating arrangement had us scattered across picnic tables; some facing our leader, and some behind her.  The weather was perfect, and with almost 30 players, it's always fun.

    We sat right behind our leader and "Jim" sat on the end of our bench.  Jim is a single, seasoned guitar and ukulele player.  Currently, after his retirement with the fire department, he plays at scheduled gigs during the week to brighten lives of many.  He's a good and talented man.  But he, like most of us, had to listen a little closer to hear.  And his patience was thin.  He began to be an obstacle in the progress of our efforts.  At one point, he didn't have a copy of the piece we were playing.  So I gave him my copy and easily read off of Randy's.  He did mutter, "Thank you."  But as time went on, he became more and more a hindrance.  Our leader struggled with him, but showed great patience as she centered on his "needs".  

    After class, I hovered around our leader.  I knew she needed a pat on the back for her patience.  She appreciated the pep talk.  And walking out over the grass, I heard a friendly voice ask what we had planned for our new week.  I turned to meet another friend.  She and her husband had been sitting beside us, knowing "Jim's" struggles.  I told her I hadn't thought too much about the new week yet.  That we had just completed a busy week, and I was glad for the new beginning.  I also shared my concern for the discord at our corner of class, because she was there, too.  And we talked about how quickly the year has gone by, and if Halloween is over, Christmas is going to fly by.  And to enjoy it all, we need to take a deep breath and smile.

    Then she said something profound.  "My husband and I have been talking about how life can be overwhelming.  We have said more than once, "'That can be a good thing!"'  All of a sudden, I wanted to hug her.  Those were the words I needed to hear.  It humbled me that as hard as I try to stay on a faithful track, here was a woman that was on a higher track.  I admired her outlook, and knowing she had a different Christian background than mine, made me appreciate the similarity more.  I wanted to be like her.  We both laughed and agreed, "We should write that on a T-shirt!"

    In a flash, I was awakened with my frustrated thoughts of Jim.  About my uncalled for speaking out about him.  About my busy life that is flying by.

    (deep breath)

    It was a beautiful fall morning.  I could wear a sweatshirt.   Birds were singing.  People were happy,  playing or listening.  I look forward to Friday mornings.  With Randy.  These are sacred holidays that only come once a year.  I sat by Jim.  I'll be more forgiving.

    These are all Good Things! 

    

 With 2022 behind us, we look back in awe of the blessings we have experienced and felt.  Not many could top a beautiful mission to Hawaii.  We met blessed, angelic people all around us.  Mixed with the beauty of the island, we were in heaven.  We learned and loved, and learned and loved some more.  We returned to sunny Arizona in April, reconnecting with family and friends we missed so much.  There is no place like home - or our own bed!  And it was heaven to be with family again.

We accepted callings and made up callings. (Randy offered to take on the empty nesters)We had 2 baptisms (September - Maddy, and October - Audrey)  That meant two quilts lovingly made.  We joined back up with my ukulele group (Randy, too!)  We look forward to the fun people there every week.  Randy continues his gardening and yard beautifying skills here, even though he misses the tropics of Hawaii, where everything there wanted to grow!  He also played Santa twice this season; thinking those days might be over.  I took on piano, again; but only with grandchildren.  It is a pleasure!  Seven littles come every week.  They take it seriously and we pulled off a "Grand" Winter recital in December - a beautiful event that added courage and confidence to their sharing skills.  The senior living center was filled with smiles all around. 

With the new year ahead, I look forward with hope.  Life is life.  Lessons are lessons.  So thankful for learning, for cheer leading, for prayer, for smiles, for family, for knowledge that Jesus Christ is our loving Savior, who loves us more than we can imagine.  So thankful!

One of our hymns in church yesterday, was packed with promise for the new year -

 "Come, Let Us Anew"  (Page 217)

Come, let us anew our journey pursue

Roll round with the year, And never stand still till the Master appear.

His adorable will let us gladly fulfill

And our talents improve

By the patience of hope and the labor of love,

By the patience of hope and the labor of love.

 

#1

     While we served on our mission to Hawaii, I was bothered by a tooth that hurt more than usual.  I really hated the thought of going to a new dentist.  Who wants to go to a dentist other than their own?  But I pursued one because I didn't want to worry.  There was a dentist located close by where we lived.  He was nice and qualified, but referred me to an endodontist.  From there, I was referred to an oral surgeon.   The surgeon diagnosed the problem.  It was my #1 tooth.  My wisdom tooth.  But so much time had passed that the pain subsided, so I put off making an appointment for an extraction.  Days and weeks went by and before we knew it, our mission was over and we were back home.  I made an dentist appt. with my own dentist here.  And I was happy to hear her diagnosis was the same as the Hawaiian oral surgeon.  It was my #1 wisdom tooth.  I even had a little conversation with her about why people have wisdom teeth anyway?  (I guess, back a few ages ago, people needed wisdom teeth for survival.)  she gave me a referral for an oral surgeon and off I went.

     I made an appointment with Randy's oral surgeon, since he is currently having work done.  So, I bypassed my dentists recommendation.  This would be another new Dr. for me, which is not my favorite thing.  Last Thursday was my appt.  His office was in Queen Creek, where I had never been.  It was pouring rain, and I was late because I was lost.  Randy offered to drive me.  When I walked in, everyone was busy.  So I took a seat.  Shortly the front desk girl called me and lead me back to a quiet, and spotless room.  I took a deep breath.  A new doctor.  

     I heard his voice greeting from the back.  He came around and shook my hand.  I sized him up carefully.  He was courteous, confident, and alert.  He made small talk for a minute and then held up my Xray to the light.  As he pointed out the tooth to be extracted, I nodded my head as if I knew exactly what a problem Xray looked like.  But I was surprised to hear him refer to my problem as being my #3 tooth.  How could that be?  From 2 previous sources I was certain it was my #1 wisdom tooth.  I listened as he ask if I would like a post or a bridge.  My tongue slid across my 1st molar and I realized it was indeed closer to the opening of my smile than I imagined.  Maybe a post would be better.  But why was I making plans for a surgery on a tooth I never planned on?  Then he ask if I would like to be sedated during the procedure, or not.  I opted to be awake - as long as I am numb.   It was about then that my courage kicked in.  I explained I had been lead to think my #1 wisdom tooth was the problem; by 2 different dentists.  What didn't I understand?  He held up the Xray again and pointed out that this Xray plainly shows my # 3 molar.  "There is not even an image of your wisdom tooth on this Xray.  This is the tooth."  He had his evidence.  I was confused.  He left as I was still stunned.  The office girl came in and handed me a form to sign showing I understood the procedure and to mark my initials on 15 items of information.  Then, before she handed me the pen, she pointed to a 3 digit total for the procedure.  She lead me out after I signed, and lined me up for payment.  She could have been referring to the payment of a consultation or the 3 digit payment, it was unclear.  Either way, I hardly stopped at the desk before I turned around to her explaining my husband was in the car and I would be right back after I counselled with him before I committed.  I knew he would be frazzled at the amount, whatever it was.   And before the door closed behind me, I faintly recall hearing her voice to invite him in.  

     As I stood at the window of the car, my heart raced.  I needed to get out of there.  I explained it all to Randy and we both agreed I needed to connect with my dentist before I did anything else.  So, I walked back in with fortitude.  I approached the office girl who was waiting outside the office for me.  I explained that I couldn't commit until I spoke with my dentist about the confusion.  She quickly motioned for me to come back in and visit with the Dr. one more time.  I was shown to the room I had just left.  It was currently occupied by a new patient.  The embarrassed office girl and a handful of chair side girls who were curious, hung around to get in on the hubbub.  They lead me instead to an empty room with a left over chair side girl from the last patient there, who thought she could help if I explained my concern to her first.  Just then the Dr. walked back in.  I was embarrassed for taking him away from his busy routine schedule, but he stood in front of me again, with a room full of curious workers that thought it was their job to line up behind me to be in on the confusion.  I started from the beginning; how it started in Hawaii.  I just wanted him to know I had valid reasons to clarify.  To question.  He held up the Xray again.  Then he pulled out his tapping tooth tool.  I was to tell him when I felt pain as he tapped each one.  No pain.  No pain.  No pain.  There was silence.  He had his evidence, but this was MY tooth.  Then I explained to him I would get back to him after I visited with my dentist, just to be sure.  I was escorted out, leaving a buzz of chair side girls behind me.  I wasn't to worry about any payment due today.  

     We drove home after hashing out all that had happened.  I went right to the phone to call my dentist as soon as I walked in the door.  Her front office girl was there.  I explained who I was and about what had just happened at the oral surgeons office.  She grabbed my chart.  Her next words were all I needed to hear,  "Yes.  It's your #1 wisdom tooth."  She could have said more, but I had tuned out.  I was not crazy.  She said she would contact the oral surgeons office for me. 

     About 2 hours later, and after office hours, my phone rang.  I was surprised to hear a woman's voice.  She let me know she was the oral surgeon's office manager.  I could tell this would be a listening conversation for me.   Her words swirled around and around and I was curious where she was going with her call.  Then she apologized for "the little mishap" that had happened in their office today.  She was cautious as if she thought I might blow up.  But I listened.  "The Xrays the doctor was reading for you today were someone elses."  All I could say was, "Wow."  Then she explained that the doctor felt so terribly about this that he would like to offer to do the surgery on the right tooth, complimentary.  I was floored.  But relieved.  My emotions were everywhere, but mostly for the doctor.  I had to imagine what had transpired in his office when I left, until they realized the mistake.  Somebody.  Somehow.  He could have lost his whole livelihood if I had been bitter.  I wondered if he was counting his blessings or crying all night for fear it would come back to haunt him.  I felt for him.

     The next morning we left without my phone.  I was anxious to get back because I had a feeling my dentist would call.  When I got home, sure enough, there was a text from her.  She apologized for the confusion I had gone through as she had learned mistakes were made at the surgeon's office.  She wanted to know if I would like a different referral.  I texted back asking her if she had any doubts that he was a good surgeon.  She replied with accolades.  "He really is an excellent clinician", she said.  She suspected he has a new assistant or administrator who jumbled things.  I told her I had already made an appointment with him.  

     In 2 weeks I am scheduled for surgery at his Gilbert office.  If he had had an opening the next day, I would have jumped on it.  Now, every day that goes by I recall the confusion.  And I begin to question if I am doing the right thing for me.  Either way, I still feel for him.  But mostly I'm comforted to know that I acted with my heart.  Something wasn't right.  I knew it.  I spoke up without hesitation for me.  I am the winner in this no matter what.  Once again, I have miraculously dodged another bullet to add to my collection of miracles. 

     

     

     

Our First Discussion

Yesterday we rode along with 9 other new missionaries, along the North Shore of Oahu, in a big van from the airport.  We were excited to meet, visit, and learn about this beautiful island.  The driver noticed our chatter and began asking questions about who we were. There was not a moment of silence before our leader, Sister Peterson, who was sitting next to me in the seat behind him, piped in confidently, telling him we were new missionaries to be serving at the PCC.  

“Have you ever heard of the PCC?”  She ask.

“I think so.  Is that where they have a big luau and dancing....up by a MormonTemple?”

“Yes!”  She said

“If I came to the PCC, could you get me in for free?”  He said kiddingly.  

“Only if you are a dancer.”  She said.

“Tell me about what you do in your temple?”  He said.

(a little silence) “We perform sacred ordinances and covenants.  We get married/sealed for eternity there.  Are you married?”  She said.

“Kind of.”  He said.

“If you want, you can walk around the Temple and go into the Visitor’s center for free, any time you want.  It’s beautiful there!”  She said.  

“Could I go inside the Temple?”  He said.

“Only if you are a member of the church.”  She said.  

“I think I remember something about your church that happened recently.....”. He said

(we finally realized he was talking about General Conference)

“What do you talk about in General Conference?  Do you hear new things every time?  Who can hear the Conference?”  He said.  

“It is an international broadcast that anyone can hear.  From leaders of our church.  About how we are all children of God and we should reach out to each other in love and kindness no matter where we are from.  About Jesus and his life on the earth.  His commandments...” We began to all chime in.

“Do you believe in the Bible?”  He said.

“Oh, yes.  His life on earth is for everyone to learn about.  The Book of Mormon is another testament of Christ.  Remember in the Bible when Jesus said  ‘There are other sheep I have, which are not of this fold:  them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd.  The Book of Mormon is a record of those other sheep.’

After an impressive conversation that proved Sister Peterson’s knowledge of the Gospel and how to interact as a true missionary, we drove into the parking lot of our destination.  

Then, the driver’s words,  “I have a kind of confession for you.....”

(silence)

“I am a member of the church!”

We had just been duped.  His name was Jordan and was a returned missionary from Brazil.

 "Let God Prevail".  A talk given last October general conference by President Nelson.  This has been a meaningful talk this week in the "6 weeks of study" in preparation for April conference.   I could have copied the talk word for word, but the highlighted parts are where it speaks to my heart the most:

Let God Prevail

By President Russell M. Nelson

President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

My dear brothers and sisters, how grateful I am for the marvelous messages of this conference and for my privilege to speak with you now.

For the more than 36 years I’ve been an Apostle, the doctrine of the gathering of Israel has captured my attention.¹ Everything about it has intrigued me, including the ministries and names² of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; their lives and their wives; the covenant God made with them and extended through their lineage;³ the dispersion of the twelve tribes; and the numerous prophecies about the gathering in our day.

I have studied the gathering, prayed about it, feasted upon every related scripture, and asked the Lord to increase my understanding.

So imagine my delight when I was led recently to a new insight. With the help of two Hebrew scholars, I learned that one of the Hebraic meanings of the word Israel is “let God prevail.”⁴ Thus the very name of Israel refers to a person who is willing to let God prevail in his or her life. That concept stirs my soul!

The word willing is crucial to this interpretation of Israel.⁵ We all have our agency. We can choose to be of Israel, or not. We can choose to let God prevail in our lives, or not. We can choose to let God be the most powerful influence in our lives, or not.

For a moment, let us recall a crucial turning point in the life of Jacob, the grandson of Abraham. At the place Jacob named Peniel (which means “the face of God”),⁶ Jacob wrestled with a serious challenge. His agency was tested. Through this wrestle, Jacob proved what was most important to him. He demonstrated that he was willing to let God prevail in his life. In response, God changed Jacob’s name to Israel,⁷ meaning “let God prevail.” God then promised Israel that all the blessings that had been pronounced upon Abraham’s head would also be his.⁸

Sadly, Israel’s posterity broke their covenants with God. They stoned the prophets and were not willing to let God prevail in their lives. Subsequently, God scattered them to the four corners of the earth.⁹ Mercifully, He later promised to gather them, as reported by Isaiah: “For a small moment have I forsaken thee [Israel]; but with great mercies will I gather thee.”¹⁰

With the Hebraic definition of Israel in mind, we find that the gathering of Israel takes on added meaning. The Lord is gathering those who are willing to let God prevail in their lives. The Lord is gathering those who will choose to let God be the most important influence in their lives.

For centuries, prophets have foretold this gathering,¹¹ and it is happening right now! As an essential prelude to the Second Coming of the Lord, it is the most important work in the world!

  

This premillennial gathering is an individual saga of expanding faith and spiritual courage for millions of people. And as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or “latter-day covenant Israel,”¹² we have been charged to assist the Lord with this pivotal work.¹³

When we speak of gathering Israel on both sides of the veil, we are referring, of course, to missionary, temple, and family history work. We are also referring to building faith and testimony in the hearts of those with whom we live, work, and serve. Anytime we do anything that helps anyone—on either side of the veil—to make and keep their covenants with God, we are helping to gather Israel.

.......................................

After Jill’s father passed on, the word myopic kept coming to her mind. She opened her heart to understand even more deeply that myopic meant “nearsighted.” And her thinking began to shift. Jill then said, “Myopic caused me to stop, think, and heal. That word now fills me with peace. It reminds me to expand my perspective and seek the eternal. It reminds me that there is a divine plan and that my dad still lives and loves and looks out for me. Myopic has led me to God.”

.........................................

 Are you willing to let God prevail in your life? 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?18

You do not need to wander or wonder.

When your greatest desire is to let God prevail, to be part of Israel, so many decisions become easier. So many issues become nonissues! You know how best to groom yourself. You know what to watch and read, where to spend your time, and with whom to associate. You know what you want to accomplish. You know the kind of person you really want to become.

Now, my dear brothers and sisters, it takes both faith and courage to let God prevail. It takes persistent, rigorous spiritual work to repent and to put off the natural man through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.¹⁹ It takes consistent, daily effort to develop personal habits to study the gospel, to learn more about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, and to seek and respond to personal revelation.

During these perilous times of which the Apostle Paul prophesied,²⁰ Satan is no longer even trying to hide his attacks on God’s plan. Emboldened evil abounds. Therefore, the only way to survive spiritually is to be determined to let God prevail in our lives, to learn to hear His voice, and to use our energy to help gather Israel.

Now, how does the Lord feel about people who will let God prevail? Nephi summed it up well: “[The Lord] loveth those who will have him to be their God. Behold, he loved our fathers, and he covenanted with them, yea, even Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; and he remember[s] the covenants which he [has] made.”²¹

And what is the Lord willing to do for Israel? The Lord has pledged that He will “fight [our] battles, and [our] children’s battles, and our children’s children’s [battles] … to the third and fourth generation”!²²

Happy Birthday, Dad

 Yesterday was Dad's birthday.  He would have been 95.  I miss him everyday.  On Sunday we met for fast Sunday dinner at Jon and Shelly's for the first time since they completed the remodel of their home (Mom and Dad's address)  It was nice to be together.  I sat at the lazy susan outside and tried to imagine if I was sitting where Dad might have sat.  He loved that table.  And he loved the people around it, no matter who they were.  He was always inviting someone.  But he loved his own family around it the most.  He would always sit in the same spot.  We all knew where he'd be.  Then Mom would be next to him.  Lots of dinners to remember with love!  Then Jon announced the dole whip ice cream was ready from Dad's machine that had been in hibernation during the remodel.  About 1 1/2 years.  It never tasted better!  

Yesterday, Jon and Shelly, Jim and Richelle, and Randy and I planned to go out to dinner for Dad's birthday.  Covid rules the world currently, so we knew we'd have to be careful and social distance with masks.  We followed Jon's truck as he took the rest.....to Arby's.  We trailed west up Elliot Road.  Then north on Val Vista.  We turned west again on Baseline.  Then just before we got to Gilbert Road, where Dad spent so many quick stops for he and Mom, Jon turned South onto a back road for delivery trucks that ran behind a strip mall.  We faithfully followed Jon and Jim.  It was dark.  We hung right.  Then left. Then over and around.  After what seemed like 10 minutes of driving, we ended up at the North side of the strip mall.  Now we could follow him across the big parking lot to find a space next to Dad's Arby's.  When we all got out, Jon informed us that that was the back roads route Dad would have taken, and just to remember him best, he purposely led us that way!    The drive through line was very long, so we were glad to be going inside.  Except they weren't serving from inside.  So we got back in our cars and found a place in the long drive through.

We headed back to Jon's and enjoyed thinking of Dad as we ate the same things he would have eaten there.  I prayed and felt his love.  Jon spoke up and recalled that when he got dressed yesterday morning, he put on a long sleeved plaid shirt.  Then he put on a pair of khakis.  Then a belt Dad used to wear.  And had worn one of Dad's hats (from our Hawaii trip) all day.  He had purposely stood back to look at himself in the mirror before he left the house, to think of Dad.  Jim was proud to be wearing a heavy flannel jacket that could have easily been Dad's.  And Randy, just before we jumped in the car to drive to meet at Jon's had come out of the house wearing the Buehner Block gray zip up sweatshirt.  We talked, laughed, reminisced, compared notes, and planned a See's candy box to be delivered to Aunt Janice for Christmas from her favorite brother's children (the Buehners and Clawsons).  

I look forward to being with my brothers.  I look up to them so much.  So thankful for Dad's evident love for us.  Happy Birthday Dad!  

 Until We Meet Again

Short-Sighted Sarcasm

By Becky Craven

Second Counselor in the Young Women General Presidency

Our words should be kind, to promote love and unity.

Illustration by Joshua Dennis

I wasn’t just a short girl. In the schools I attended while I was growing up, I was the shortest girl. Because of this, I was often teased. However, I didn’t allow myself to be offended. In fact, I often laughed with those who teased me. For whatever reason, I never felt bullied.

But there was another kind of humor some of my fellow students used, and it did hurt. Sarcastic comments, made in an attempt to be funny, often inflicted unseen wounds. Regardless of the intent, sarcastic remarks can pierce the soul like daggers. Perhaps this is because such comments are usually rolled around elements of truth.

This is particularly the case among family members, whom we know well enough to make our sarcastic remarks to them very personal. What might seem comical to one person might not be so humorous from the other side. I believe that since we can’t know how sarcastic comments may hurt others, it is better not to use them at all.

Like most of us, from time to time I have said something sarcastic. Often I have wished, either immediately or later on, that I hadn’t. I have recently wondered how often I’ve hurt someone by my use of sarcasm. Have I been a bully?

We generally overlook sarcasm as a type of bullying. But sarcasm can cut, berate, and belittle, and isn’t that bullying? Chances are that we’ve never considered ourselves as bullies, but when we throw sarcastic darts at another person, chances are high that they will feel injured.

During the time of King Mosiah, the people of the Church were taught “that they should let no pride nor haughtiness disturb their peace; that every man should esteem his neighbor as himself” (Mosiah 27:4). Knowing that we are sons and daughters of Heavenly Parents should help us determine how we act, what we do, and what we say. And that means sarcasm is often short-sighted.

Remembering that others are also children of Deity should cause us to treat them with the utmost love and respect. When we speak to our fellow brothers and sisters and to our family members, we can promote love and unity as we heed the words of a well-beloved hymn: “Let us oft speak kind words to each other; kind words are sweet tones of the heart.”¹

                  *******************************************************************

Because I realized today that my gentle sarcasm comes out more than it should.  Because I am most sensitive to it myself, you'd think I would be more sensitive toward others; especially family members.  Yet, because of my own "wounds" my response was disguised as OK.   Gentle or not, sarcasm is sarcasm, and whether you are the giver or the receiver, and no matter how you try to disregard its intent or pain, it still zings.  And it's just plain hurtful.  When I heard this talk, this day, I was more intent to make a conscious change.  I hope I never run out of things to tweak my life for the better.

Who's Really in Charge, Here

Summer continued on.  We had our medical appointments current in August, ready to add to the final steps of turning in mission papers.  The time has gone by unrealistically, because COVID has turned life pretty different from the "olden days" a few months ago.  With no one over 65 allowed at church.  No temple open.  No church buildings open.  No school.  Masks and hand washing and sanitizing often.  No make up.  Working from home.   It was a good time for summer.  And thinking about a mission, was unreal.  

After we returned from the cabin in August, our temple recommends were soon to expire.  So we were interviewed over the phone by Brother Shimimoto.  A week or so later, the Bishop let us know he would send our mission paperwork on to the Stake President, bypassing our last interview with him.  On August 18, we had an appointment with the Stake President.  We were ready to talk about missions, but wouldn't have been surprised if this was only a temple recommend interview.  To our surprise, he kept us both in the room as he interviewed us.  He said he liked to interview couples together to feel their connections.  The recommend interview went nicely.  It was nice to sit next to Randy as we both answered those sacred questions together.  Then, smoothly the conversation drifted right into our serving a mission.  President Tinker sat securely at the helm as he listened to us express ourselves.  And he was an inspiration to listen to as he encouraged us, with no fear or doubt of the current state of the world.  Happily he explained the continued needs for serving a mission for senior missionaries.  He didn't have details, but only wholeheartedly encouraged us.  He was a pleasure and comfort for our wondering souls.  We left that night with plans to turn the paperwork in right away, without hesitation. Again, yes, yes, yes.

The drive home was when it hit.  What are we going to do about telling the kids?  When?  How?  I got a little teary, knowing they had no idea, even though our quest had started slowly about a year ago.  It seemed to have spiraled into a mission call over night.  The next morning I got a text from President Tinker.  He wanted to make sure he understood us right.  It seems that our preferred date to serve was in January.  If he turned in the paperwork now, the call usually comes in about 3 weeks and the date of service is between 130 days.  That would mean we could get called in October and leave before Christmas.  As he explained this, we reconsidered the submission date to October, making a more doable time to ease the kids into learning about this.  I was grateful President Tinker had called before he went ahead with sending the papers in.  Now we could easily get the kids together to tell them what we'd been up to.  It did startle us a little, knowing we could have had a serve date before Christmas!  

Last week a phone call came from Salt Lake.  A message was left on my phone and on our answering machine.  It was from a nurse there, who was curious about a blood work number of Randy's that didn't seem right.  She was going through our forms and came across this little discrepancy.  She was friendly enough. but needed Randy to verify the number to make the forms read reasonably.  She also had questions about my skin Dr. appointments and procedures.  We both called our different doctors and called the Salt Lake nurse right back.  It turns our Randy's blood work number was written 35.?  After checking, the right number was 6!  It was misprinted!  I told Randy that was a really good reason to serve a mission.  To have an excuse to correct the numbers now, so that when you are really in need, the faulty numbers don't kill you!  Ending the call with the nurse, she made a comment that now our papers were in order and ready.

A little voice keeps nagging us.  "You need to tell your kids".    We bought ourselves another month after President Tinker altered the date.  But now, with this nurse telling us everything was in order, it makes me wonder who is really in charge here?  We have found ourselves saying, Yes, yes, yes.   But haven't felt the reality of it until this week.

Tomorrow we tell the kids.

  

But

Alonna's Timely Call

     A couple of months ago, I messaged my friend Alonna Randall, who is serving a mission in Hawaii with her husband, Mark.  Randy suggested I connect, to see how they were doing and find out a little about their mission.  She messaged back with a good report.  On asking her potential needs for their mission, she encouraged me to visit the Senior Missionary church website.  A day or so later, we found ourselves scrolling back and forth over missions that looked doable.  We were excited to see all the needs and places to serve.  It was comforting.  We started checking the ones where we could see ourselves, just for fun.  Someday.

     Last Friday night, we noticed a message on our machine from Alonna, leaving her phone number and encouraging us to call her.  We waited until Saturday morning, since the time change was uncertain.  We left a message back.  Saturday afternoon, after the phone tag, she called again.  This time we were able to visit.  The conversation was surprising.  She wanted to know if we had been  thinking more about serving a mission.  Their mission would be through in April.  They were going to need to be replaced.  Were we interested?  How long would it take to be ready?  Could we be ready by June?  Every answer I gave was affirmative.  If we were interested, she would gladly pass our information along to her Mission supervisor.  And she would gladly share his info with us, so we could speak with him personally.  The conversation ended with me encouraging her to pass our names along to him.  An hour later, a text was sent that appeared on my phone.  It was Brother Orams number along with another one for his wife, Sister Oram.
     The Buehner Family orange juicing party had just wrapped up and Randy hadn't returned home yet.  Somehow I had to find a perfect time to tell him about this call.  When he walked in and had to make a Costco run.  I knew the timing was right.  Just he and I.  We drove along and I explained the call.  He was interested.  But then he wanted me to get Brother Oram's number, thinking that would buy him some time.  I showed him my phone with both numbers.  He was surprised.  The urgency was clear.
     We let Sunday go by smoothly for all.  But Monday morning I left for DUP (my history lesson ready), and I made him promise to call Brother Oram.  When I returned, a few hours later, he and Brother Oram had had a good talk.  They do indeed need replacements and if we are interested, we need to get the ball rolling.  ("No guarantees"  he said).  The first thing we needed to do was make an appointment with the Bishop.  Tuesday evening we sat in the Bishops office and explained our interest.  He sent for the paperwork we would need.  Wednesday we made Dr. appointments to be complete in April.
     ......Thursday was a crazy day.  The coronavirus was getting the best of the world.  Conference gatherings were cancelled.  Schools were closed, stores were mad with panicky customers (no TP), and our cruise to Hawaii with the Browns and Caffels was cancelled.  No telling for how long.  So, our focus became worldly, instead of spiritual, although there hasn't been a day in the week we haven't been sure we are still doing the right thing by turning in our mission papers.
      We leave in a few minutes for a Plan B venture (it's Saturday), to still get away with friends, only to northern AZ.  My head is buzzing with uncertainty and I'll be glad to be back home in a week, but hopefully we will get away from the worry and uncertainty of the shape the world is in.  I know we are meant to NOT FEAR.

Silently Screaming

It's May 22, 2020.   Corona virus is all around us.  The world has made a giant change from the social life we thought was so common, since March. Masks, sanitizer, stalking for T.P, washing hands while singing "Happy Birthday" twice, social distancing (six ft. apart), schools out (last three months online), no church in our buildings, no Temple, no traveling, no Dr. or hair appts. (until this last week, only with a mask and an invitation from the parking lot to come in), television from commentators at their homes. . .

It's been odd.  And the longer it lasts, I have to ask myself if I can live with it getting worse.
I have done my own little share of silently screaming, while noticing others' wrestling with it, too.

I noticed from the beginning that my many colored sets of silky polka dot or striped pajama tops and bottoms could just as easily be worn mismatched.  In fact, I purposely look for a mismatch anymore; somehow it makes me feel victorious!

I haven't worn make up for months, except on Sundays.  And I think about the ritzy name brand stuff I used to only buy if there was a gift offered with a purchase.  Fry's grocery store has been sufficient for all my quick make up needs.  I have seriously ask myself if I could get by with one tube of Maybelline water proof mascara every three years; I don't care the color, they never had what I was looking for anyway.  I look like a palomino pony without something.  I told myself years ago I would never go without makeup.  (That was after not recognizing a beautiful friend without hers at girls camp one year.)  Could I really run around with no eyes?

And my hair.  I prided myself on being a pure bred red head.  I couldn't let people call me "blond" could I?  Could I really let my hair go natural?  People do it every day, but not if their coloring is fair, like mine.  Without make up or hair color, I would look headless!

I just realized yesterday that the favorite lipstick I can't live without gets covered up every day with a mask!  Why all the bother?

And another silent scream comes daily when I put on yet another pair of earrings.  I've worn pairs I haven't worn in years.  Oh, the colors, the shapes, the dangles.  Everyday is a new ear adventure!

Henry made me feel good last week as he stepped in the door.  His hair was perfectly combed.  His smile and eyes were as bright as ever.  His plaid collared shirt was buttoned up like he would be winning an award.  I made a fuss over him as he confidently walked in.  But as my eyes followed, I realized that under that dapper plaid shirt, was a beautiful pair of giant plaid flannel pajama pants and a pair of flip flops.  All of a sudden I hoped this could be the new normal.

We received a darling photo from our elementary music teacher daughter in Utah.  She and the other teachers were proudly waving on their former students as the parade of cars cruised past the school at the end of the year.  I'm sure it was a little sad.  But there she was, wearing a big smile, her pajama pants, and comfy t shirt; the new norm.

And yesterday, the day after online school got out, I had to cheer for Maddie and Eliza, proudly sporting their new purple tipped hair that was a family project earlier that day.

Silently screaming in our inward and outward appearances.  I see it everywhere.  But somehow it relieves the anxiety of knowing that even though things are different, we are all in this together.  It's free.  It's legal.  It's creative.  It's normal.
Thank goodness for the silent screaming we have in common.  And for colorful silky pajamas, eyes to see, hair to coif, blue lipsticks to choose, ears to hear, grandchildren to cheer for.  Now where did I put my Miss Piggy slippers?

My New Beginning

Last Thursday, after learning our cruise to Hawaii had been cancelled because of the chaos of the corona virus, (which sadly would have made me cry in any other situation) we decided to hit Costco.  Our priorities had been suddenly switched around and we found ourselves with a list of items we might need instead of suntan lotion.

Driving up, the parking lot was jammed like it was the day before Thanksgiving.  We drove up and down, looking for a space.  Finally we spotted a very pregnant woman unloading her purchases in a small car close to the front.  We pulled close to wait, turning our blinkers on to signal our claim.  Now we could see she had two overflowing carts with everything from cases of diapers to cases of cheerios.  We patiently waited as she methodically packed her car from top to bottom and side to side.  There was no way she could see out her back windows.  She looked up long enough to catch our eye in approval as she rolled her cart to a safe place.  Then she hobbled back to her car, carefully buckled in, and pulled out.  As she passed us she did something I'll always remember. She waved in appreciation.

We could have been impatient.  She could have been flustered.  Life these days is bringing on evident stress to people we've never met.   But in that moment it seemed each of us had empathy, despite the unrest of the world.  I will always remember her quick wave of gratitude and will thoughtfully add this same gesture to my new beginnings as I face these crazy times.

Christmas 2019

Christmas, 2019.

We spent an wonderful Thanksgiving with all our children and families in and out, here in Gilbert.  Heaven truly is felt when your children are together.  We played, we laughed, we ate, we shopped, we met up with cousins, and we loved.  The ones from far away are always a light.  I am so thankful for the effort each one makes to be here when they know they'll all be together.  That is a complete blessing!  Brothers and sisters have connections that no other can share.

Last Thursday night, Kate performed in a huge Christmas choir that performed at the Mesa Center of the Arts.  She looked so grown up.  I'm so glad she appreciates singing with a choir; especially at Christmas.  When the music started and those children joined together to sing as choirs of angels, the tears popped out of nowhere.  So profound!

Then (last Friday), Randy and I flew up to Orem to be with Julianne and family.  Emmie and Peter had a piano recital, Julianne had an orchestra concert, and Emmie was in a Christmas musical in the city.  The thrill it gives a couple of Grandparents to witness their own far away kids perform at Christmas!  My eyes fill with uncontrollable tears at the sound of Christmas music anyway.  But when it's your own!  Well, let's just say, I can't wait until next year.

Julianne and Brenden were so gracious, even through rushing to get kids everywhere.  They  willingly took the time to pack us all in the car and drive to Salt Lake Saturday night (amid massive traffic and crowds), to walk on the grounds of Temple Square under the breathtaking Christmas lights.  After this year, the temple will go under a reconstruction for four years, and the lights most likely won't be as wondrous.  All with happy hearts, happy kids, and even a gelato stop in the middle of 30 degree weather!  We appreciated the trip SO much!  As Randy and I get older, simple things become more meaningful.  This was a Christmas to remember.  We got home last night in time for the beautiful Christmas Devotional from SLC.

This morning, I participated in a Light the World RS group at the nursing home.  Carianne had volunteered she and I to play a duet (Jingle Bells).  We sang and shared, wearing our Christmas colors to the hilt.  A wonderful program was given in a spontaneous style, which made for sweeter.  At the end, Maddie, Lettie, and Eliza sang "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" all decked in their Santa hats.  Yay for sharing Christmas with united smiles, songs, and happiness.

Tonight I am headed to the Higley Center of Performing Arts to see Henry perform with his school.  He loves to sing, too.  Thank goodness for Christmas and the chances to Falalalala!  And for children.  And for grandchildren.

It's only December 9.  I have enough Christmas in me to carry me through.
Our children will be spread apart for Christmas day.  That's OK.  We do see them a lot, which we are extremely thankful for.  We'll be fine, especially with memories implanted so far.

I'll be busy wrapping and taping myself with their joyful gifts of music, especially the carols proclaiming His Holy birth.  And drying my eyes when I think of their sweet angelic voices.

"Mom" Clawson

Tonight at 8:10 sweet Grandma Clawson passed away peacefully. 
This morning, hospice was scheduled to come by Jean's.  The family was anxious, knowing Grandma had become weaker and weaker in recent days.  Did we still have hope?
Randy received a phone call from Jean this morning after hospice left.  She was calling all the siblings.  Our hope was running out.  Her 94 years on this earth was close to an end.
Randy tearfully packed a bag and headed off to Safford, connecting with one last brother, Allen.

The day has been heartfelt.  I'm sure anyone close to her clung to the thought of eternal life.  It takes a time like this to ponder blessings we have all received from knowing and loving her. 

I for one have pondered today about memories of her I was privileged to have from age 26.  Randy came along about then, and I was so pleased to meet his loving mother.  He was going to ASU, but his home was in Safford.  It was a beautiful home, lovingly decorated and designed by Olive.  She had an eye for comfort, great taste, and pink.  Their home had been selected to show as a Christmas House for a charity the year before we were married.  It was the first time I had been there.  It was a Christmas fairyland, and she was tickled pink.  Olive was offered any item to keep as gesture of thanks for the use of their home.  She chose a beautiful pink satin bedspread that had made a statement on their king size bed.  It remains on their bed tonight as I reminisce.

I will always be so thankful for the fast friendship Olive and CB were to my parents.  I was the first to marry in my family, but there was instant friendship and love between them that made for a lot of harmony on both their parts. We took some fun family trips together with both our parents.  And each set of parents was always interested in how the other set was doing.  They considered each other valued friends.

There was never a Thanksgiving, or family gathering that didn't include a kitchen full of lovingly prepared food.  And oh, the heavenly smell.  Big dinners rarely catered to only their children or grandchildren.  So many meals we gathered together with strangers some of us had never met.  A home teacher, a new friend, a long lost cousin, someone in the ward without family to share with. 

I love Randy, and because I do I have always called Olive, "Mom".  I love her dearly, too.  She has shown such interest in me and our little family.  I could never walk into her home without her standing to greet me the minute she saw me.  I always felt a part. 

She had a thing for being cheerful.  She would remind us how important it was to be cheerful.  She was. 

And when we were ready to leave, she would stand again and walk us out to the car, never letting us leave without a big hug and a look of love in her eyes.

I will continue to reflect on her goodness for years to come.  But the last time I saw her was a little over a week ago.  Carianne, Vita, and all their children drove with Randy and I to Safford to visit Grandma C.  It was important to them, which I am so grateful for.  We hovered around her in the hospital bed we weren't used to.  It was placed right in front of the window of Jeans back door.  So she could see the sun and the sky she loved.  And so she could greet loved ones like us with a huge smile and a listening ear.  Her arms reached out to hug each of us with love.  It didn't matter if some of us were unfamiliar, she knew we loved her and more than that, we knew she loved us.  We laughed and talked and showed off our dolls and treasures and if we had stayed, she still would have soaked in our stories.  As we walked out the door, with waves of love, I will always remember not wanting to look away.  The smile on her face was as bright as it ever was.  And she waved until I thought her arm would ache.  I'll never forget leaving and witnessing such a sweet farewell.

I know there is a heaven where we can be together again eternally.  I know that she was greeted in a grand reunion tonight by her loving husband, CB.  And her two beautiful small children who have missed her until now, and she them.  Her parents and many others that have been cheerleading for her for a long time.  She lived a full and grateful life.  Always prayerful and obedient.  She will gain a beautiful reward.  I will miss her influence, hugs, and cheerfulness.  But I know she is in a beautiful place, with people that have saved a seat for her.  She is happy.  And like the Primary song sings, "You've served me well, my little child.  Come into my arms to stay."

A quote from our DUP meeting last Monday:

In so much as there is hardness

put it away

for it is like a seed which,

 if it be cultivated grows To maturity,

 and when it brings forth fruit

 it brings forth hardness and tyranny. 

We should Always endeavor

to plant peace and kindness.

 

Heber C. Kimball