I read an excerpt about becoming totally committed to a course of action. This particular item was specific to the ideals of serving a worthy mission, but I think that it all applies across the board to life in general.
"I, the Lord am bound when ye do what I say; but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise" (D&C 82:10).
What a breath of fresh air to meet a new missionary who does not have HIS OR HER OWN RULE BOOK. When you signed your acceptance letter, you told the Prophet in effect, "I WILL GO WHERE YOU WANT ME TO GO" and "I WILL DO WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO". Don't go back on your commitment!
Every missionary who got off the plane seemed to be 100 percent committed to keeping the commandments and the mission rules. During their first day in the mission, they committed to continue to be "MTC obedient". The excitement level was high, and we felt that these were the ones who would conquer the world. During their first round of zone conferences, I interviewed each of them. They would express their commitment to TOTAL OBEDIENCE. I would commend and encourage them.
By the second month, they had discovered how difficult it is to obey all the rules, ESPECIALLY IF THEIR TRAINERS OR FELLOW MISSIONARIES WERE MORE RELAXED THAN THEY HAD COMMITTED TO BE. Many were still determined to set a record for obedience. By the third month, they had experienced their share of hard times: difficult areas, challenging companions, frustrating news from home, rejection by investigators, and the pressure of learning all they were required to learn.
AT THIS POINT, THE MEN WERE SEPARATED FROM THE BOYS, AND THE WOMEN FROM THE GIRLS.
THE TRUE MISSIONARIES OF CHRIST WERE DETERMINED ENOUGH AND STRONG ENOUGH TO REACH THEIR GOAL OF 100 PERCENT OBEDIENCE IN SPITE OF THE DIFFICULTY OF THE TASK.
The others started making excuses why they couldn't keep all the mission rules. "Nobody else is totally obedient" was one of the most frequently used rebuttals. "My companion and others tease me because I'm trying to obey all the rules, which bothers me. And I just don’t understand why this stupid rule is here. I'm not going to live these dumb rules" - these are two other weak attempts to justify disobedience.
I would remind these missionaries that the Lord NEVER said, " I, the Lord, am bound if ye do 80 percent of what I say"! IF FAITHFUL MISSIONARIES WANT THE LORD TO BLESS THEM AS PROMISED, THEY NEED TO BE 100 PERCENT OBEDIENT.
(Randy L. Bott - from the book "Serve With Honor: Helps for Missionaries)
When do we get to a point at which we come to realize that we have to choose and we have to be 100% in order to experience success in ANYTHING? It's hard.
Change and commitment require a willingness to realize that what you have been doing all along isn't getting you anywhere. And to make a difference, there must be changes that will have to be made permanent in order to experience success.
Just a few thoughts for today . . . must be time to make resolutions. . .
December 29, 2007
December 24, 2007
Electronic Mail
What a wonderful age in which we live that the bits and bytes of the minutia of our lives can be transported through the flotsam and jetsam of the air to someone miles and miles away.
Not only the minutia but also the love.
With family so far away during not only holidays but everyday, a certain poignant longing for a more personal touch makes all forms of modern communication all the more important. We can't always drop what we are doing to fly around the country or even around the world to see those whose faces we long to see, to hold the hands of the ones who hold our heart or to simply be near the ones who mean so much to our days and nights.
I believe God inspired someone to find a way to keep in touch. Even though we cannot touch physically at all times, we can, through the various forms of communications touch through our hearts and that is enough to sustain us until the next time that we meet.
During this time of the year when hearts are drawn to home and family, it makes all the more precious the opportunity to tell those whom we love that we do indeed love them and that they mean so much more to us than we normally allow ourselves to say. Well, unless you grew up in my family, where telling people exactly how you feel is the soup du jour. There is no such thing as a bad time or the wrong way to say how you feel and to tell the ones who pull the strings of your heart just how much they mean and how deep love can grow within for those who may have started as strangers but have chosen to grow as family.
God bless us that we may see beyond the close called kith and kin and draw to ourselves the family of man who most assuredly needs the love we can offer and the warmth of our heart.
Merry CHRISTmas!
Not only the minutia but also the love.
With family so far away during not only holidays but everyday, a certain poignant longing for a more personal touch makes all forms of modern communication all the more important. We can't always drop what we are doing to fly around the country or even around the world to see those whose faces we long to see, to hold the hands of the ones who hold our heart or to simply be near the ones who mean so much to our days and nights.
I believe God inspired someone to find a way to keep in touch. Even though we cannot touch physically at all times, we can, through the various forms of communications touch through our hearts and that is enough to sustain us until the next time that we meet.
During this time of the year when hearts are drawn to home and family, it makes all the more precious the opportunity to tell those whom we love that we do indeed love them and that they mean so much more to us than we normally allow ourselves to say. Well, unless you grew up in my family, where telling people exactly how you feel is the soup du jour. There is no such thing as a bad time or the wrong way to say how you feel and to tell the ones who pull the strings of your heart just how much they mean and how deep love can grow within for those who may have started as strangers but have chosen to grow as family.
God bless us that we may see beyond the close called kith and kin and draw to ourselves the family of man who most assuredly needs the love we can offer and the warmth of our heart.
Merry CHRISTmas!
December 19, 2007
Straight No Chaser
This is a fun holiday bit most of you may have already seen, but when it's good . . . it's worth a repeat.
12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS:
CAROL OF THE BELLS:
SILENT NIGHT:
12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS:
CAROL OF THE BELLS:
SILENT NIGHT:
December 17, 2007
Butter side down
The warm tendrils of heat issued forth with their tiny desert-like apparition of bending the solid wall behind them. As if looking through a toast inspired mirage, I awaited the warm, buttery bread that would soon become part of me.
Just like that old saying "you are what you eat", I hoped to become warm and toasty. But not through direct heat.
I slicked on a thin coating of butter (you know, the yellow stuff that comes in a jumbo tub from your local market that isn't butter but we call it that anyway).
I patiently waited. (Okay, we all know that patience part was a lie.)
Then, rewarded for my diligent effort to stare down the toaster in order to force production of toast at a quicker pace, the rising bread, cradled in a hot pair of strange hands rose to the apex of it's duties and I took the toast.
So hot that my fingertips burned, I was blissfully looking forward in anticipation of that wonderful smelling oatmeal bread brushing back my tastebuds for something truly special.
Alas, tragedy struck. Through no fault of my own, the toast began its descent toward the floor.
It had a resounding smack as the butter temporarily compelled it to stick to the less than pristine floor by the dog bowls.
I didn't cry, I didn't waver and I didn't equivocate. THIS IS TOAST, PEOPLE!!! TOAST, I SAY!!!
So I picked it up. 30 Second rule, ya know?
Scraped off the butter and an epidermal layer of toasted bread.
Then, I re-applied the butter and awaited a joyous heaven of hot bread.
In the words of John Milton, it was "Paradise Lost", the toast had grown cold and no longer tasted anything like I had imagined.
The dog was grateful. She doesn't usually get toast with her Alpo.
I think she even smiled. A buttery, warm smile on a cold day.
Score?
Me - nothing, toast - 1, and resident canid - 99.
The trifecta of life complete, I consoled myself with a bit of scrambled egg omelette and hashbrowns. Nothing like a Denver consolation prize.
Just like that old saying "you are what you eat", I hoped to become warm and toasty. But not through direct heat.
I slicked on a thin coating of butter (you know, the yellow stuff that comes in a jumbo tub from your local market that isn't butter but we call it that anyway).
I patiently waited. (Okay, we all know that patience part was a lie.)
Then, rewarded for my diligent effort to stare down the toaster in order to force production of toast at a quicker pace, the rising bread, cradled in a hot pair of strange hands rose to the apex of it's duties and I took the toast.
So hot that my fingertips burned, I was blissfully looking forward in anticipation of that wonderful smelling oatmeal bread brushing back my tastebuds for something truly special.
Alas, tragedy struck. Through no fault of my own, the toast began its descent toward the floor.
It had a resounding smack as the butter temporarily compelled it to stick to the less than pristine floor by the dog bowls.
I didn't cry, I didn't waver and I didn't equivocate. THIS IS TOAST, PEOPLE!!! TOAST, I SAY!!!
So I picked it up. 30 Second rule, ya know?
Scraped off the butter and an epidermal layer of toasted bread.
Then, I re-applied the butter and awaited a joyous heaven of hot bread.
In the words of John Milton, it was "Paradise Lost", the toast had grown cold and no longer tasted anything like I had imagined.
The dog was grateful. She doesn't usually get toast with her Alpo.
I think she even smiled. A buttery, warm smile on a cold day.
Score?
Me - nothing, toast - 1, and resident canid - 99.
The trifecta of life complete, I consoled myself with a bit of scrambled egg omelette and hashbrowns. Nothing like a Denver consolation prize.
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