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North

2/25/2018

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I don’t get lost in the woods…..

Friday I took all OPA 8th graders who did a science fair project to the Museum of Natural Curiosity at Thanksgiving Point.  This is my fourth time taking students to the museum and, in their end of year reviews, it consistently ranks as one of their favorite field trips.   We spend the day adventuring--riding the train to and from the museum and exploring with abandon inside the museum.   Good times.

Friday dawned cold and snowy, so cold and snowy, in fact, that one could not even see the dawn….or the sun...or the mountains.    A student texted me “Considering the weather, are we still going on the field trip?”   “Yes,” I responded.  “Snow does not bother trains.”

We boarded the train in snowy conditions in Ogden and exited the train in snowy conditions in Lehi.  Plans called for us to walk the half mile from the train station to the museum.   Though we were in near blizzard conditions--visibility about 300 yards, snow flurries, and temperatures in the low 20’s with a wind chill factor that made it seem significantly colders--I was not worried.    It is difficult to kill an 8th grader; walking a half mile in these conditions would be good for them.

I wasn’t worried until I got off the train, directed my group to walk north, and did not recognize anything.   Granted, visibility was restricted but I did not recognize anything.   Nothing.   The kids ran animatedly ahead, pleased to be free from school’s normal restrictions.   My concern grew as the distance between us and the train station we were leaving behind grew.   I did not recognize a thing.   I had done this same trip multiple times.   Where did I grow wrong?

Aware of my ability to mix things up, I called the museum.   “Are we supposed to get off the train at the Lehi stop?”  I asked.   Yes.   Just follow Garden Street north, I was told, and you will reach us.  Okay.  We were on Garden Street and were heading north.  We had to get there soon.

But we didn’t….  We did not get there and looking ahead I could not see any sign that we were going to get there.   We were in a subdivision where no subdivision should exist.  I called the museum again.   “We are in the middle of a subdivision,” I told them.   “I don’t know where you are,” they responded. “I don’t either,” I said.   

I found street signs on a cross street and gave them my coordinates.  “You are a long way away,” they said.  “Keep going north and the street you are on will turn into Garden Street and the museum is on Garden Street.”

I told Amamda, a parent who was with me and who had found our location and destination on her smartphone,
“We just have to keep heading north and we will get there.”


“We are going south,” she said.   
 
South?   SOUTH????   NO!!!!        NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!      NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Unable to see the mountains because of the near-whiteout I had become disoriented and had led the group (80 students and 10 parents) a half mile in the wrong direction...which meant we had to go back a half mile and then we would still have a half mile to go to the museum...and the storm was worsening.   

We turned around and began walking back.   When we were walking the wrong direction the wind was to our backs so the blowing snow was not so bad.   When we retraced our steps we were heading into the wind.   Snow pellets stung our faces.   Jovial lightheartedness was replaced by a dogged endurance.   Talking and laughing ceased.   It was cold.   COLD.  

My phone rang.   “This is Katherine.  I have the museum van.  It only holds 12 passengers but I am coming to get you.”


My mind whirled, figuring out how to get transport nearly 100 people in a 12 passenger van…..  We’d congregate in the tunnel under the train stop (a concrete tube, unheated but sheltered).  Women and children first.   I would send the least physically fit female chaperone with the coldest, frailest girls in the first van load, and then, triage fashion, rank those who remained in ride order.   I would challenge all who remained to “man up” and walk with me the half mile to the museum.   Assuming that some would accept my challenge, I would walk with as many as would to the museum, leaving Mr. Zundell (the OPA employee accompanying me) supervise those remaining at the station.    It was not an ideal situation but at least it offered some hope.   

Eventually we made it back to the train station, very cold and wet but not whining.  At least not to me.

Just after everyone went into the tunnel under the train stop Katherine showed up in the van and, just after Katherine showed up in the van, two big yellow school busses pulled up.  TWO BIG YELLOW SCHOOL BUSSES!  

The museum hosts kids from multiple schools in a day.   A school  from Alpine School District was visiting the museum that day as well.   Katherine had approached the drivers of the busses that transported those students, explained our plight, and asked if they would come to our rescue.     And they did.

It was a gracious gift from God and a testament to the goodness of people.   I was honestly worried.  The kids were cold.  COLD.  And wet.  Being junior high kids, they were not adequately dressed.   Most were wearing only hoodies and canvas shoes.   One girl was in a skirt and a couple boys were in shorts.   My fingers and toes were cold and both were encased in leather.  I could only imagine how their unprotected digits felt.  I knew we could walk to the museum if we had too but I knew it would be a miserable, MISERABLE experience and I felt so, so, SO bad.  Awful.  Truly awful.

The busses showed up like gifts from God.  I know what angels looks like.   One of my angels is a Latino with a warm smile and he is driving a big yellow bus.  Another is a sandy-haired woman who also drives a big yellow bus.  And a third has short, curly brown hair and shows up in a Museum of Natural Curiosity van.     

I understand the principle of grace a little better now.   I was given a free and unmerited gift.  I messed up.   TOTALLY MESSED UP.  And, in so doing, caused almost 100 innocent people to suffer.   And there was nothing I could do, NOTHING, to remedy the situation.I felt horrible--HORRIBLE--but I could not make it right.  

Enter grace.   I did nothing to merit our rescue.  I did not pay any money.  None of those people owed me favors; they did not even know me!.   But, thanks to their goodness, mercy and compassion, a service was provided for me (and those I had hurt) that I could not do for myself.   Free.  Unmerited.

Thank you Katherine, Felix, and Janae for being graceful instruments in God’s hands

​NOTE:  All student photos are published with consent.

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Waiting at the top of the Lehi Frontrunner Station tunnel
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An angel
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Wearing shorts and a hoodie
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She's been in the museum an hour and her hands are still red....
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Looking in...
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At least his jacket is zipped up....
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Brrrrrr!
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Fortuitously

2/18/2018

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I don’t get lost in the woods…..

Last Friday I attended the Utah Science Teachers Association annual conference.   The conference began in Provo at 9:00 a.m.   Thinking I would avoid traffic and parking woes, I decided to ride the train and arrived at the Roy station at 6:30 a.m., 15 minutes ahead of the scheduled departure.   Determined to make good use of my time, I sat and began responding to the backlog of emails that had accumulated in my inbox.

The northbound/Ogden train pulled up in front of me.  It was loud, so loud that I did not hear the southbound/Provo train that pulled up behind me.  I was still answering emails when the southbound train started to pull away.  I watched helplessly--one cannot flag down a departing train--as it gained speed heading down the track.

Thank heavens for cell phones and husbands.   I called Lance.  He came to my rescue and we began a desperate race to catch the train.    Looking at the train schedule and the traffic situation we figured out best bet for intersecting the train was at Woods Cross and began our pursuit.   Fortuitously we arrived at the Woods Cross station 3 minutes before the train.  Phew!  I would be to the conference on time after all…..

….or not.   I answered a few more emails and dozed some as the train headed to Provo.  The dozing was particularly appreciated as I’d been up since 12:30 a.m., having been kept awake by racing thoughts and long task lists.    I got to doze more than anticipated because the train had “door issues” and was delayed in Salt Lake City for 20 minutes.  I walked as quickly as I could from the train station to the conference but arrived late and was unable to hear the keynote speaker. Fortuitously I had more time to catch up on emails.

The conference ended at 3:30 and it was critical I catch the 3:50 train so I could get home in time to join my family for our planned theater adventure that evening.   I had no worries about catching the train.  It took me 15 minutes of walking straight east to get from the station to the conference center; 15 minutes of walking straight west should get me to the train station with 5 minutes to spare.

I met up with a colleague after the conference and we began our trek to the train station.  We’d been walking a bit when Shane consulted Google Maps.   “It says we should be walking south,” he said.   Positive that I’d walked east that morning on the way from the station, I insisted we continue walking west toward the station.   
I was positive the station was west of the conference center.

I was wrong.  By the time I accepted the fact that the train station was really south, we’d walked over a half mile in the wrong direction and I’d missed the train AGAIN!

Missing the train made it impossible to meet my family as planned. I’d also planned on napping on the train so that I could stay awake during the play.   Gone were the plans for naps and family meetings.    Fortuitously the train passed by the theater where we had tickets so my new plan was to get off the train near the theater, walk to the theater, and meet the family there.

The train had stops in Draper and South Jordan.  I knew the theater was in Sandy and I knew that Sandy was next to Draper.  I did not know where South Jordan was so I got off in Draper, figuring I’d just walk to Sandy...which I did.  Five miles.   FIVE MILES!

Fortuitously I’d worn Chacos with my dress so I made the trek in hiking sandals.  Fortuitously there was no snow on the ground.   My phone died en route so I was not exactly sure where to find the theater.   Fortuitously our school tech specialist had mentioned in passing that my new Chromebook could be used to charge a phone and, double fortuitously, I had the cords necessary to do so.   Fortuitously the phone rebooted at the intersection where knowing where I was going was critical and I made the correct turn.   Fortuitously I had thrown away the cookie and potato chips I was given at lunch which prevented me from eating junk food when it became apparent that dinner was not on the night’s agenda.  Fortuitously the stress of not knowing where I was going, of walking five miles in a dress in an unfamiliar place in fading daylight and then dark night, of missing the train not once but twice, and of missing dinner had me so wound up that I was able to stay awake for the play.   And, most fortuitously of all, my family let me ride home with them so missing the train for the third time that day was not an option!

Life is good!


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Filled with Love

2/11/2018

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I need more love.   Really.  

If I had more love I would not irritated by the kid, halfway through the school year’s third quarter, who still does not bring a pen or pencil to class, by the dirty dishes I find on the counter that I left clean when I went to bed the night before, or by incessant, irreverent diatribes that flood the airwaves, newspapers, and Internet.

If I had more love the non-pencil bearing student would want to come prepared to class, my family would yearn to clean up after themselves (Wouldn’t that be nice!!), and, with enough more love, I could even restore light, hope, and respect to public dialogue.   Love-filled people before me have.

A couple years ago, enlightened by the realization that I need more love, I adopted Moroni 7:48 as a guideline--  “...pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ…” --and I began petitioning my Father, in nearly every prayer, to be filled with love.  

I am still petitioning.

As I prayed, I imagined my Father in Heaven miraculously pouring love into my heart, using a figurative pitcher to fill it.   Filled by Him with His love, I thought His love would flow through me and blessing the lives of those with whom I associate.  

Today I realized I am being miraculously filled with love but the love is not coming from some figurative, imaginary pitcher.  Love is literally pouring into my life and it is coming from you and from people like you.   It makes perfect sense in hindsight--of course the God is using His children to bless me--but it was a piece of sacred, divine, personal revelation when it came to me as I took the sacrament today.  I am being filled with His love by His children.     

Following are a few of this week’s love-fillings:

  • “You are my favorite second mom.”  [Said to me by Grace’s friends as I fed them pancakes and caramel syrup.]
  • “I found this and thought you might enjoy it.”  [Said to me by my darling neighbor as she handed me a 19 year old photo of my now 20 year old daughter.]
  • “You got this Momma.”  [Texted to me by that 20 year old daughter when I told her I had to walk 5 miles from the train station to the theater.]
  • “Come and see me.”  [Said to me by another neighbor because he wanted to give Valentine’s chocolates to my girls and I.]
  • “Sister Hislop and my mother are very much alike.”  [Said by my Bishop in what is truly one of the greatest compliments I have ever been given.]
  • “You really are beautiful.” [Said by not one but two very sincere students in my first period class.]
  • “Do you have plans for dinner?” [Said to me by a sweet, elderly lady in my congregation because she wanted to send me home with some food to use in my Sunday meal preparation.]
  • “Come in.”  [Said to me by a young mother in the ward when I knocked on her door seeking insight.]
  • “Of course.”  [Said to me by a couple in temple when I asked for a ride home.]
  • “I noticed you are limping.   Are you damaged?” [Said to me by a woman I admire who not only noticed that I used the handrail to haul myself up the stairs but also cared enough to ask.   She also cared enough to ask about my family and to share tears and fears with me.]
  • “Talk next week?” [Texted me by a beloved BYU roommate with whom I’d shared an evening of food and friendship.
  • “Thank you my Moxie sister!”  [Texted me by an amazing woman who is facing some incredible health challenges.  I am so honored to be called her sister.]
  • HUG [Given me by a dear friend after sharing a new book and an old dream]
  • “How are you?” [Asked me in the foyer of church last week by a woman with tears in her eyes who had seen the tears in mine.]
  • “Thank you Mom.  Really.”  [Said by my son after I gave him a basketball playing tip,]
  • “Can I have a hug?”   [Said by the other son, as he combed the house seeking me.]
  • “It’s okay.  No worries.”  [Said to me by my colleague after I’d made him walk an extra half mile AND miss the train because I insisted on walking west to the train station that was actually south.]
  • “Thanks for being married to me.”  [Said by a righteous man who truly is pleased to be my husband.]

Filled with love.   By God, through you.  And people like you.

Thank you.

Teresa

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Peace in Christ

2/4/2018

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“How are you?” my friend asked kindly.

“Fine…...publicly,” I responded as I hurried away to hide the tears that brimmed in my eyes, tears that threatened to make my assertion that I was publicly fine a lie.

Truth is I was scared.   Super scared.   Scared not for me---facing my own fears is something I can do--but scared for a loved one, someone I love as much as life itself, someone for whom I would give my life.   Scared for a beloved being.

Pondering my friend’s questions and my response brought to mind my favorite scripture, a verse that has already guided my countless times.   “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”  (2 Timothy 1:7)
Knowing that “...all things work together for good to them that love God...”  (Romans 828), I decided to choose faith over fear.  It was a conscience decision.   I banished the fears; I chose to trust God.

And peace came.    Peace did not replace pain.  I still feel parts of the pain my beloved is experiencing but peace and pain can co-exist and I know it will all work out.     I feel peace.
​

There is peace in Christ.

THERE IS PEACE IN CHRIST
2018 LDS Youth Theme Song
Words and music by Nik Day

There is peace in Christ

When we learn of Him.
Feel the love He felt for us
When He bore our sins.
Listen to His words.
Let them come alive.
If we know Him as He is,
There is peace in Christ.

[Chorus] He gives us hope
When hope is gone.
He gives us strength
When we can’t go on.
He gives us shelter
In the storms of life.
When there’s no peace on earth,
There is peace in Christ.

There is peace in Christ
When we walk with Him
Through streets of Galilee
To Jerusalem.
Mend the broken hearts.
Dry the tear-filled eyes.
When we live the way He lived,
There is peace in Christ.

[Chorus]

© 2017 by Intellectual Reserve, Inc. All rights reserved.
This song may be copied for incidental, noncommercial home or church use.
This notice must appear on each copy made.
1 Comment

    Author

    Teresa Hislop
    thislop@msn.com

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