A dozen of corn and a basket of grapes.
It doesn't take much to lift my spirits at the end of a long week.
I still stand in awe that my Father in Heaven continues to send others to nourish me both physically and spiritually.
And to turn the tables, I am grateful others think to ask me to serve. I need those opportunities in my life to lift the burden of another.
Showing posts with label service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label service. Show all posts
Friday, September 17, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
HE WILL PROVIDE
For you young widows with ever-increasing family responsibilities, know that God is aware of your needs and that He will provide. Continue to exercise faith and good works. Faithful family and Church members will assist. Be willing to receive assistance from others as necessary. Your children will know that you provide them with a double measure of love. It is my testimony that our Heavenly Father will abundantly compensate your family with eternal blessings because of the goodness of your hearts.
Earl C. Tingey
Earl C. Tingey
Saturday, September 4, 2010
GREATER FAITH
The term widows is used 34 times in the scriptures. In 23 of these passages, the term refers to widows and the fatherless. I believe the Lord has a tender feeling toward widows and the fatherless, or orphans. He knows that they may have to rely more completely on Him than on others. Their prayers will be more personal and lasting, service to fellowmen more genuine, and faith greater.
Earl C. Tingey
Earl C. Tingey
Friday, September 3, 2010
1 TIMOTHY 5:3
Honour widows that are widows indeed.
As a widow... I also need to open my eyes to the other widows around me. I need to find opportunities to serve them.
As a widow... I also need to open my eyes to the other widows around me. I need to find opportunities to serve them.
Monday, June 21, 2010
WIDOWS AND WIDOWERS
Thomas S. Monson continued...
Frequently the need of the widow is not one of food or shelter but of feeling a part of ongoing events. Elder H. Bryan Richards of the Seventy once brought to my office a sweet widow whose husband had passed away during a full-time mission they were serving. Elder Richards explained that her financial resources were adequate and that she desired to contribute to the Church’s General Missionary Fund the proceeds of two insurance policies on the life of her departed husband. I could not restrain my tears when she meekly advised me, “This is what I wish to do. It is what my missionary-minded husband would like.”
The gift was received and entered as a most substantial donation to missionary service. I saw the receipt made in her name, but I believe in my heart it was also recorded in heaven. I invited her and Elder Richards to follow me to the unoccupied First Presidency council room in the Church Administration Building. The room is beautiful and peaceful. I asked this sweet widow to sit in the chair usually occupied by our Church President. I felt he would not mind, for I knew his heart.
As she sat ever so humbly in the large leather chair, she gripped each armrest with a hand and declared, “This is one of the happiest days of my life.” It was also such for Elder Richards and for me.
I never travel to work along busy Seventh East in Salt Lake City but what I see in my mind’s eye a thoughtful daughter, afflicted with arthritis and carrying in her hand a plate of warm food to her aged mother who lived across the busy thoroughfare. She has now gone home to that mother who preceded her in passing. But her lesson was not lost on her daughters, who delight their widowed father by cleaning his house each week, inviting him to dinners in their homes, and sharing with him the laughter of good times together, leaving in that widower’s heart a prayer of gratitude for his children, the light of his life. Fathers experience loneliness as well as mothers.
_________
I have commented before that I do not believe others will ever understand the impact they have had in my life because of the little things they do.
Right after you become widowed there are many who offer a helping hand or comforting thought. As time passes, most will get on with their life while the widow's life remains forever changed. And, as time passes it continues to change. All your previous friends who are couples find new couple friends... leaving you to yourself. In the quiet and solitude. OK - I guess quiet is a stretch as the three children eliminate that. But, even amongst the chaos comes a feeling of loneliness.
There is the loss of adult interaction and loving touch. So, for those who had shown up or made a phone call in those first years of transition... thank you. The Lord provided, and continues to provide, for me temporally. But, the act of kindness from another was truly a need that when filled helped make me feel whole.
Frequently the need of the widow is not one of food or shelter but of feeling a part of ongoing events. Elder H. Bryan Richards of the Seventy once brought to my office a sweet widow whose husband had passed away during a full-time mission they were serving. Elder Richards explained that her financial resources were adequate and that she desired to contribute to the Church’s General Missionary Fund the proceeds of two insurance policies on the life of her departed husband. I could not restrain my tears when she meekly advised me, “This is what I wish to do. It is what my missionary-minded husband would like.”
The gift was received and entered as a most substantial donation to missionary service. I saw the receipt made in her name, but I believe in my heart it was also recorded in heaven. I invited her and Elder Richards to follow me to the unoccupied First Presidency council room in the Church Administration Building. The room is beautiful and peaceful. I asked this sweet widow to sit in the chair usually occupied by our Church President. I felt he would not mind, for I knew his heart.
As she sat ever so humbly in the large leather chair, she gripped each armrest with a hand and declared, “This is one of the happiest days of my life.” It was also such for Elder Richards and for me.
I never travel to work along busy Seventh East in Salt Lake City but what I see in my mind’s eye a thoughtful daughter, afflicted with arthritis and carrying in her hand a plate of warm food to her aged mother who lived across the busy thoroughfare. She has now gone home to that mother who preceded her in passing. But her lesson was not lost on her daughters, who delight their widowed father by cleaning his house each week, inviting him to dinners in their homes, and sharing with him the laughter of good times together, leaving in that widower’s heart a prayer of gratitude for his children, the light of his life. Fathers experience loneliness as well as mothers.
_________
I have commented before that I do not believe others will ever understand the impact they have had in my life because of the little things they do.
Right after you become widowed there are many who offer a helping hand or comforting thought. As time passes, most will get on with their life while the widow's life remains forever changed. And, as time passes it continues to change. All your previous friends who are couples find new couple friends... leaving you to yourself. In the quiet and solitude. OK - I guess quiet is a stretch as the three children eliminate that. But, even amongst the chaos comes a feeling of loneliness.
There is the loss of adult interaction and loving touch. So, for those who had shown up or made a phone call in those first years of transition... thank you. The Lord provided, and continues to provide, for me temporally. But, the act of kindness from another was truly a need that when filled helped make me feel whole.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
THE GOOD TEACHERS
I have repeatedly commented that my oldest child struggled. Don't get me wrong though, he was not the only one. They all had their ways.
My youngest was in kindergarten when his father passed. He made it through that year, and we were fortunate enough in first grade for him to have a friend as a teacher. This was fortunate as she didn't require as much parental involvement as another teacher may have. One of his ways of 'coping' was shutting down. No doubt there were times that his poor little brain just couldn't process any more. So, to ask him to sit and learn - when all his brain wanted to do was process the fact that his daddy is gone, was just too much some days.
When the teacher would ask the class to come sit on the carpet... sometimes he would just want to stay at his desk, in his own little world. My friend didn't worry about this, she would simply pick him up and bring him where he needed to be. This worked (of course sometimes he objected and she might have been seen carrying a flailing child who, much like a two year old being taken out of a toy store, would grab a hold of the door frame attempting to inhibit her ability to take him away).
In second grade, he again had a friend for a teacher. She was such a loving and kind women. In fact I have given you a sneak peek at what a wonderful woman she is.. remember this and this? Well, I don't think it is a coincidence that teaching Kyle ended up being her last year before she retired.
When life got too tough for Kyle he would just sit in his locker... "Mrs. R, Kyle is in his locker". "I know... he'll come out when he is ready". Or should he be asked to write something and the task seemed too daunting... he would simply go under his desk and cry. "How about you tell me what you want it to say, and I will write it for you."
She was soo good to him. She allowed him the space he needed to heal... to cry... to check out of life a little without a harsh reaction. Such a contrast to the reaction my oldest son was receiving.
I don't know that I thanked them enough. Both of my friends, for the service they offered as patient loving teachers to my child.
My youngest was in kindergarten when his father passed. He made it through that year, and we were fortunate enough in first grade for him to have a friend as a teacher. This was fortunate as she didn't require as much parental involvement as another teacher may have. One of his ways of 'coping' was shutting down. No doubt there were times that his poor little brain just couldn't process any more. So, to ask him to sit and learn - when all his brain wanted to do was process the fact that his daddy is gone, was just too much some days.
When the teacher would ask the class to come sit on the carpet... sometimes he would just want to stay at his desk, in his own little world. My friend didn't worry about this, she would simply pick him up and bring him where he needed to be. This worked (of course sometimes he objected and she might have been seen carrying a flailing child who, much like a two year old being taken out of a toy store, would grab a hold of the door frame attempting to inhibit her ability to take him away).
In second grade, he again had a friend for a teacher. She was such a loving and kind women. In fact I have given you a sneak peek at what a wonderful woman she is.. remember this and this? Well, I don't think it is a coincidence that teaching Kyle ended up being her last year before she retired.
When life got too tough for Kyle he would just sit in his locker... "Mrs. R, Kyle is in his locker". "I know... he'll come out when he is ready". Or should he be asked to write something and the task seemed too daunting... he would simply go under his desk and cry. "How about you tell me what you want it to say, and I will write it for you."
She was soo good to him. She allowed him the space he needed to heal... to cry... to check out of life a little without a harsh reaction. Such a contrast to the reaction my oldest son was receiving.
I don't know that I thanked them enough. Both of my friends, for the service they offered as patient loving teachers to my child.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
CLEANING & CASSEROLES
Working full-time and caring for the kids keeps me running. There are not usually enough hours in the day to accomplish everything I need to. So luxuries, such as a clean house and a home cooked meal do not happen every day. But, I wish they did. At the end of the day when I look around and see the cluttered house and the dirty dishes from the grilled cheese I quickly made for dinner, I miss the days that I was home to clean the house and cook meals. The angels that reach out, on occassion, just to pull you up when you feel like you are sinking, truly feel as though they are sent from heaven. On more than one occassion while I was at work friends from my church (TB, KR & LS) have come over and cleaned my house and brought me a meal. Do you know how wonderful it is to come home on a day that ends with Parent Teacher Conference to a home cooked meal and a clean house? TB, KR, & LS have been fabulous in their small acts of service to me. These tasks that my life does not allow me the time to get done in a timely fashion have brought relief and joy to my life. I still love to sit in my living room and see the painted walls, and to sit in a CLEAN living room, with a full stomach from a delicious casserole and best brownies ever... that is just a gift!
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
ERRAND OF ANGELS
We can't go through life as silos and think we will enjoy it. We need to be engaged and involved with others, and with helping to carry the burdens that others are carrying. There was a time in my life that my time and availability were such I would seek out opportunities to help others. I enjoyed being engaged in this type of work. In more recent years, however, my resources of time and energy have been more drained and I have not been as 'busy' in the work of caring for others.
When life gets difficult, it remains important to serve others, as sometimes that can be the one escape you have from your own problems, as you help someone else with theirs. A difficult transition for me was to realize that I really needed others' help and to even, on occasion, ask for it.
I am grateful for those angels that were on an errand. There are many examples of times that I have had the help I needed, just when I needed it. Today, I will tell you of one.
When I first moved in to my house I had painted the walls 'Bonjour Beige'. It is a color that has followed me from house to house. Through the course of my first year in the house I made a few changes to the curtains, etc in the living room and as a result the walls needed to be touched up. Much to my dismay the company had slightly altered the color of paint and I did not have enough left over to paint the areas that needed it. I was left with splotchy looking walls. The area that was painted this color was a good sized area - and therefore was not something on a typical weekend I would have time to tear the room apart, paint it, and put it back together. So, I put the project on hold for a three day weekend.
Of course, three day weekends are few and far between and my list to accomplish on those weekends was LONG.... So, the paint job waited, and waited, and waited. Until one day a friend was over visiting and she inquired as to what I was doing with the walls. I explained my situation and she quickly offered to come over and paint it for me. I reluctantly agreed (feeling badly that she would take on such a large chore). KR brought TB and LS with her and in half a day had the walls painted - uniform. They had the rooms put back together before I arrived home from work.
The errand of angels... do they recognize the stress relief it is for me when they reach out in such significant ways?
When life gets difficult, it remains important to serve others, as sometimes that can be the one escape you have from your own problems, as you help someone else with theirs. A difficult transition for me was to realize that I really needed others' help and to even, on occasion, ask for it.
I am grateful for those angels that were on an errand. There are many examples of times that I have had the help I needed, just when I needed it. Today, I will tell you of one.
When I first moved in to my house I had painted the walls 'Bonjour Beige'. It is a color that has followed me from house to house. Through the course of my first year in the house I made a few changes to the curtains, etc in the living room and as a result the walls needed to be touched up. Much to my dismay the company had slightly altered the color of paint and I did not have enough left over to paint the areas that needed it. I was left with splotchy looking walls. The area that was painted this color was a good sized area - and therefore was not something on a typical weekend I would have time to tear the room apart, paint it, and put it back together. So, I put the project on hold for a three day weekend.
Of course, three day weekends are few and far between and my list to accomplish on those weekends was LONG.... So, the paint job waited, and waited, and waited. Until one day a friend was over visiting and she inquired as to what I was doing with the walls. I explained my situation and she quickly offered to come over and paint it for me. I reluctantly agreed (feeling badly that she would take on such a large chore). KR brought TB and LS with her and in half a day had the walls painted - uniform. They had the rooms put back together before I arrived home from work.
The errand of angels... do they recognize the stress relief it is for me when they reach out in such significant ways?
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