Broken
(See December 8, 2013 blog entry for photos.)
Broken…………What does the word “broken” mean? Hurt? Damaged? Fractured? Perhaps more significantly, what does the work “broken” imply? Repairable? If the thing broken were not repairable, would we not say “ruined” instead of “broken”? Of value? If the broken item were of no value, would we not refer to it as “worthless” instead of “broken”?
In my house, broken things have value. We do broken here.
Consider my dryer. Its door pops open. When the door opens, the dryer stops. This is a problem when drying clothes; clothes tend to dry much more slowly when they are sitting in a damp heap inside an inert dryer. One could say the dryer is broken…but not useless. If we prop a filled clothes hamper (it helps if there is a 10 lb. weight in the bottom of the hamper) or two against the door, the door stays shut, the dryer keeps running, and the clothes get dry. Fortunately there is never a lack of hampers filled with dirty clothes in our home.
The door on the freezer also pops open. This is a problem as the motor on the freezer tries to freeze the entire basement when the freezer door is open. Sadly (or gladly, depending on whether or not your bedroom is in the basement) the freezer motor is not strong enough to keep the entire basement frozen so the food inside the freeze thaws, drippings pool on the floor, and food that was formerly very valuable to my family becomes valuable only for my dog. One could say the freezer is broken…but not useless. A simple bungee cord, hooked to a doorframe and to the freezer door handle, ensures that the freezer door stays shut. [If only I could figure out a way to ensure my children remember to attach the bungee cord…..]
The knobs on our ONLY shower consistently strip. [Strip as in the threading is destroyed, not as in take off their clothes….there is lots of taking off clothes that happens near our shower as well but that is a different story.] When the knobs strip, one cannot turn on the water, which is a problem as waterless showers are relatively ineffective. One could say the shower is broken….but not useless. A pair of pliers and a flexible wrist are all that are needed to make the shower fully functional.
We got a crock pot for our wedding that I use several times weekly. It is legless but not useless. I simply put a canning ring and lid where the leg used to be and all is well. The crockpot still has three of its four legs; the rice cooker has only one of its original legs but, like the crock pot, it is still valuable. Dad Noel crafted a prosthetic limb for one of the missing legs and a folded cloth napkin works well as a replacement for the other.
Upon returning home from last year’s field trip to Yellowstone, I found myself in possession of a perfectly good rainfly; some student had left it behind. Anticipating that some parent would realize the rainfly was missing and try to track it down, I kept it over the summer. September came but no parents came. Hum…… The thing about a rainfly is that it really needs a tent; without a tent, it could be considered worthless. Worthless? Maybe. But, maybe not. I tried but I could not bring myself to throw it away.
After September came October and, with October, came the fourth cutting hay crop. I purchased what I hope will be enough alfalfa to feed my sheep over the winter and stored the hay in my canvas shed which, I discovered, has holes in the roof. This is a problem as rain and snow naturally gravitate through holey roofs. [Gravitate…..Yes, the pun was intentional. J] When rain and snow land on hay, they soak in, mold grows, hay is ruined, and sheep go hungry. This is really a problem, especially if you are a sheep. But it is not a problem if there is a spare rainfly lying about……. The rainfly is stretched over the hay and under the shed roof. Hay is dry, sheep aren’t hungry, Teresa is happy.
Our dear van is broken in too many places to list (without making this an exceedingly boring letter) so I will mention only a few. The automatic side doors open only manually, the back bumper is on cusp of coming off, and something under the car (I don’t even know what it is) near the front tire is attached with baling twine. Most significantly, the check engine lights are constantly on. One could say that the van is broken…..but not useless. We drove all the way to central Mexico and back with all the check engines lights on; the van was certainly useful. With the van, however, it has not been our interventions that made it useful. Some things are just miracles.
I had a delightful, soul-sharing, thought-provoking chat with a cherished friend a few weeks ago. In between munching on sandwiches, pulling wind whipped hair away from our eyes, and laughing about the ironies of motherhood, we discussed this concept of brokenness. She views herself as broken. She comes from a family that is broken. She was abused by a person who was broken. She is dealing now with extended family members on both sides that are broken…and their broken pieces are cutting her. All of them are broken……but not useless. Miraculously, she recognizes their worth through their brokenness. Her profound statement catalyzed this letter. “In a way, we are all broken, aren’t we?”
Yes.
In a way, we are all broken. All of us. We are broken in various ways and in varying degrees but we are all broken. Broken by our own sins, broken by the sins of others, broken by health problems, broken by disappointments and despair; broken, all of us. And we are all repairable and we are all valuable. All of us. Sometimes our value is manifest through help from others (clothes hampers, bungee cords, plier and flexible wrists); sometimes our value is manifest as we find a meaningful purpose (rainfly); and sometimes our value is manifest miraculously (van) but always, ALWAYS we have value.
Through the power of Christ’s infinite atonement and the grace of His redeeming love, we are repaired. His blood paid the price for our repair, His profound empathy comforts our souls and His love heals the wounds brokenness brings.
Our status as children of God gives us value. As His children, we have a divine heritage and eternal worth, worth that transcends brokenness; gold is precious no matter what its form or level of fragmentation. And, as His instruments on Earth, we are valuable as we help others realize their worth, find their purpose, and recognize their miracles.
In God’s house, broken things have value. He does broken here.
(See December 8, 2013 blog entry for photos.)
Broken…………What does the word “broken” mean? Hurt? Damaged? Fractured? Perhaps more significantly, what does the work “broken” imply? Repairable? If the thing broken were not repairable, would we not say “ruined” instead of “broken”? Of value? If the broken item were of no value, would we not refer to it as “worthless” instead of “broken”?
In my house, broken things have value. We do broken here.
Consider my dryer. Its door pops open. When the door opens, the dryer stops. This is a problem when drying clothes; clothes tend to dry much more slowly when they are sitting in a damp heap inside an inert dryer. One could say the dryer is broken…but not useless. If we prop a filled clothes hamper (it helps if there is a 10 lb. weight in the bottom of the hamper) or two against the door, the door stays shut, the dryer keeps running, and the clothes get dry. Fortunately there is never a lack of hampers filled with dirty clothes in our home.
The door on the freezer also pops open. This is a problem as the motor on the freezer tries to freeze the entire basement when the freezer door is open. Sadly (or gladly, depending on whether or not your bedroom is in the basement) the freezer motor is not strong enough to keep the entire basement frozen so the food inside the freeze thaws, drippings pool on the floor, and food that was formerly very valuable to my family becomes valuable only for my dog. One could say the freezer is broken…but not useless. A simple bungee cord, hooked to a doorframe and to the freezer door handle, ensures that the freezer door stays shut. [If only I could figure out a way to ensure my children remember to attach the bungee cord…..]
The knobs on our ONLY shower consistently strip. [Strip as in the threading is destroyed, not as in take off their clothes….there is lots of taking off clothes that happens near our shower as well but that is a different story.] When the knobs strip, one cannot turn on the water, which is a problem as waterless showers are relatively ineffective. One could say the shower is broken….but not useless. A pair of pliers and a flexible wrist are all that are needed to make the shower fully functional.
We got a crock pot for our wedding that I use several times weekly. It is legless but not useless. I simply put a canning ring and lid where the leg used to be and all is well. The crockpot still has three of its four legs; the rice cooker has only one of its original legs but, like the crock pot, it is still valuable. Dad Noel crafted a prosthetic limb for one of the missing legs and a folded cloth napkin works well as a replacement for the other.
Upon returning home from last year’s field trip to Yellowstone, I found myself in possession of a perfectly good rainfly; some student had left it behind. Anticipating that some parent would realize the rainfly was missing and try to track it down, I kept it over the summer. September came but no parents came. Hum…… The thing about a rainfly is that it really needs a tent; without a tent, it could be considered worthless. Worthless? Maybe. But, maybe not. I tried but I could not bring myself to throw it away.
After September came October and, with October, came the fourth cutting hay crop. I purchased what I hope will be enough alfalfa to feed my sheep over the winter and stored the hay in my canvas shed which, I discovered, has holes in the roof. This is a problem as rain and snow naturally gravitate through holey roofs. [Gravitate…..Yes, the pun was intentional. J] When rain and snow land on hay, they soak in, mold grows, hay is ruined, and sheep go hungry. This is really a problem, especially if you are a sheep. But it is not a problem if there is a spare rainfly lying about……. The rainfly is stretched over the hay and under the shed roof. Hay is dry, sheep aren’t hungry, Teresa is happy.
Our dear van is broken in too many places to list (without making this an exceedingly boring letter) so I will mention only a few. The automatic side doors open only manually, the back bumper is on cusp of coming off, and something under the car (I don’t even know what it is) near the front tire is attached with baling twine. Most significantly, the check engine lights are constantly on. One could say that the van is broken…..but not useless. We drove all the way to central Mexico and back with all the check engines lights on; the van was certainly useful. With the van, however, it has not been our interventions that made it useful. Some things are just miracles.
I had a delightful, soul-sharing, thought-provoking chat with a cherished friend a few weeks ago. In between munching on sandwiches, pulling wind whipped hair away from our eyes, and laughing about the ironies of motherhood, we discussed this concept of brokenness. She views herself as broken. She comes from a family that is broken. She was abused by a person who was broken. She is dealing now with extended family members on both sides that are broken…and their broken pieces are cutting her. All of them are broken……but not useless. Miraculously, she recognizes their worth through their brokenness. Her profound statement catalyzed this letter. “In a way, we are all broken, aren’t we?”
Yes.
In a way, we are all broken. All of us. We are broken in various ways and in varying degrees but we are all broken. Broken by our own sins, broken by the sins of others, broken by health problems, broken by disappointments and despair; broken, all of us. And we are all repairable and we are all valuable. All of us. Sometimes our value is manifest through help from others (clothes hampers, bungee cords, plier and flexible wrists); sometimes our value is manifest as we find a meaningful purpose (rainfly); and sometimes our value is manifest miraculously (van) but always, ALWAYS we have value.
Through the power of Christ’s infinite atonement and the grace of His redeeming love, we are repaired. His blood paid the price for our repair, His profound empathy comforts our souls and His love heals the wounds brokenness brings.
Our status as children of God gives us value. As His children, we have a divine heritage and eternal worth, worth that transcends brokenness; gold is precious no matter what its form or level of fragmentation. And, as His instruments on Earth, we are valuable as we help others realize their worth, find their purpose, and recognize their miracles.
In God’s house, broken things have value. He does broken here.
Soggy Bread
“Cast your bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days. (Ecclesiastes 11:1)
Friday I was driving to my parents’ home when I noticed a younger lady (many ladies are younger than me these days!) carrying four bulging bags of groceries as she made her way over and between the clumps of snow and ice on the not-recently shoveled sideway leading away from the local grocery store. As I asked myself if I should offer her a ride, I saw her set the bags down and attempt to readjust them so that they did not pull so tightly on her wrists and shoulders.
Her action was my answer so I offered her a ride, which she graciously accepted. She lived about a half mile out of my way, one mile round trip. The whole event cost me 5 minutes and about $0.15 (gas @ $2.99/gallon in a van that gets about 20 miles/gallon). I did not think much about it…………until I pondered the next series of events.
I was on my way to my parents’ home because I needed Dad’s pick-up to haul hay. The supply I bought this summer is disappearing more rapidly than I anticipated; at the current rate of usage it will be gone by mid-February. At the current rate of snowfall the pastures will still be covered until mid-April. This is a problem for my cellulose-craving sheep; it seems unlikely that they will be happy (or healthy) if I make them go without food for two months. I needed more hay, about 18 bales more. As I no longer have a truck (….oh Peter! I miss you!!), I asked Dad if I could borrow his. He graciously agreed not only to loan me his truck but to help me haul hay as well.
So far, so good.
Dad decided that it would be easier to borrow the neighbor’s trailer than take the canopy off his truck (a decision he later questioned….). When I arrived at my parents’ home (after my 5 minute/$0.15 detour) Dad led me to the truck, which was stuck in the neighbor’s driveway.
I need to clarify something before proceeding with this story. I appreciate my Father’s truck. It has taken me on numerous Women’s and Children’s camping adventures, hauled countless bales of hay for me, and recently carried 28 Ogden Preparatory Academy students’ backpacks to the Grand Canyon and back. I really do appreciate the truck BUT (you knew there was a “but” coming, didn’t you?) it is a wimpy truck. It gets stuck just facing a puddle—entering the water and/or mud is not necessary—approaching it is all it takes. Green grass, damp dirt, a slight slope—I have seen all of these conditions hopeless mire Dad’s truck.
Back to the story…..
Pulling a trailer on a snow covered driveway was too much for the truck and it was, predictably, stuck. After a couple futile attempts to push the truck out, we unhooked the trailer and tried again to free the vehicle. Ten minutes of shovel work, salt placement, and back-and-forth pushing yielded results; the truck could move but the trailer could not.
Another neighbor (not the owner of the trailer) noticed our predicament, hooked his double axelled, four wheel drive truck to the trailer and pulled it onto the road for us. We re-attached the trailer to Dad’s truck and were off to the next aspect of our adventure.
The barn that houses the hay that I wanted to purchase sits at the end of a 100 meter driveway. Dad pulled in the driveway and circled so that he could back the trailer into the barn. The circle he drove took the truck into a ditch that was concealed by a snow bank. Stuck. Again. Slick snow, deep ditch, timid truck…..there was no way we were getting out of this one without help.
The hay farmer and his foreman (and his tractor) came to the rescue. The tractor hadn’t been started all winter so it took some time, effort and a couple sprays from a propellant-powered can of some sort to get it going. Finally fired up and then hooked up, the tractor needed three tries to get the truck out of the ditch.
When the truck was once again free, we loaded the hay without drama and began the drive to my home (8 miles away) where we planned to stack the hay under the rainfly in my holey hay shed.
Two blocks from my house a bearing on the trailer came apart. It was the bearing that holds the axle together so a wheel and half an axle went wildly east, a chain link fence the only thing keeping it from careening onto the train tracks. The backing plate (the metal dish that supports the brake drums) carved a 30 meter long, 2 cm deep grove in the road before we stopped. And we were stopped. Again.
Two blocks is not much when one is walking or even running but two blocks is a long way to haul 18 seventy-five pound hay bales. Neighbors to the rescue. Again.
I walked to Brixey’s (our north next door neighbors) and asked to borrow their truck. While Dad and I were transferring hay from the trailer to the Brixey’s truck, an unknown (and as yet unidentified) man pulled up behind us, got out, and, joining us in our hay-transferring efforts, said, “I work at the machining shop just down the street [three blocks south] and I have a fork lift I could use to help you get this trailer off the street until you can get it repaired.”
Dad, Mr. Machinist, and I finished transferring the hay. I drove the Brixey’s truck to my holey hay shed and stacked the hay under the rainfly. In the meantime, Mr. Machinist and Dad used the forklift to transport the crippled trailer to the machining shop parking lot where it would stay until Dad could go home, get the canopy off the truck (yes, there is a HUGE irony is this), and return at which point Mr. Machinist would again use the forklift to put the trailer into the back of the truck and Dad would haul it to a repair shop.
As of this morning, all is in its proper place. The trailer is in the shop, the hay is in the barn, and Dad’s truck, canopy in place, is in his garage. And there is a beautiful green leather couch in my living room.
Saint Sallie (my sweet sister-in-law) learned that I wanted a new-to-me couch to replace the 4th generation (started with cousin Jennilyn, transferred to sister-in-law Jill, moved to Parents Hislop, and finally ended up with me) red/green/gold/navy striped couch that currently lives in my living room. There is nothing wrong with our couch, it’s just that when people sit in in, they sink so deep a forklift is needed to get them out….and at $22/hour (see below) forklifts are expensive. So a new-to-me couch would be nice. Sallie is nice so she has been scouring ksl.com’s classifieds to find a couch for me.
On this same fortuitous Friday morning Sallie found a free green leather couch available in Sunset. The owner told Sallie that two other people had called wanting it and the first one there could have it. Without hesitation, not even taking time to call me, Sallie removed the seats from her van and drove quickly to Sunset. She won the couch race, loaded the maxi couch into her mini van, drove to my house and delivered it just as I finished stacking the hay in the holey shed. Dad and I carried the couch into the living room and there it sits.
Curious, I decided to do a little figuring….
Cost of renting a 5 x 8 box trailer to haul hay, 4 hr minimum $30
Cost of tow to pull trailer onto street
$45 hookup fee plus $3/mile $48
Labor cost of neighbor who pulled trailer to street
Contractor, $50/hour for 15 minutes $13
Cost of renting a 4WD tractor, 1 hr minimum $45
Labor cost of farm foreman $16/hour for 30 minutes $ 8
Labor cost of hay farmer not calculated because sometimes farmers end up paying for the
opportunity to farm
Cost of renting a truck to haul hay for 2 blocks, 75 minute minimum $20
Cost to rent forklift $22/hour, 1 hour minimum $22
Labor cost of machinist $22/hour for 30 minutes $11
Labor and truck rental cost for Dad’s services not calculated for fear I would feel obligated to
pay him if I knew...
Moving van to haul couch, $20/day one day minimum $20
Green leather couch, eBay $100 $100
Cost of labor for Sallie’s service also not calculated because she is priceless.
TOTAL: $315
[Estimates based on current online price listings from Diamond Rental, Ogden; Great Harvest Bread, Clinton; Home Depot, Ogden; Google searches, and eBay]
“Cast your bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days” has a new meaning for me. I am not the financial genius of the family but it seems that $315 is not a bad return for a $0.15 investment…. I think I got the best end of the deal and it did not even take “many days” for it to come back to me.
Melvin J. Ballard said it another way: “A person cannot give a crust to the Lord without receiving a loaf in return. “ I testify it is not quite true. Friday I have gave a couple crusts worth of service (Great Harvest Bread slices average $.30/slice so $.15 is a reasonable cost for a crust or two) and I got 63 loaves worth of service (most Great Harvest breads are $5/loaf; $315/5 = 63). It is not true because the return on investment was much greater than one crust to one loaf. Seriously.
So, cast your bread upon the waters……and see what comes back to you. It probably will not be soggy bread. It may not be a forklift or a green couch either but it is bound to be good.
“Cast your bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days. (Ecclesiastes 11:1)
Friday I was driving to my parents’ home when I noticed a younger lady (many ladies are younger than me these days!) carrying four bulging bags of groceries as she made her way over and between the clumps of snow and ice on the not-recently shoveled sideway leading away from the local grocery store. As I asked myself if I should offer her a ride, I saw her set the bags down and attempt to readjust them so that they did not pull so tightly on her wrists and shoulders.
Her action was my answer so I offered her a ride, which she graciously accepted. She lived about a half mile out of my way, one mile round trip. The whole event cost me 5 minutes and about $0.15 (gas @ $2.99/gallon in a van that gets about 20 miles/gallon). I did not think much about it…………until I pondered the next series of events.
I was on my way to my parents’ home because I needed Dad’s pick-up to haul hay. The supply I bought this summer is disappearing more rapidly than I anticipated; at the current rate of usage it will be gone by mid-February. At the current rate of snowfall the pastures will still be covered until mid-April. This is a problem for my cellulose-craving sheep; it seems unlikely that they will be happy (or healthy) if I make them go without food for two months. I needed more hay, about 18 bales more. As I no longer have a truck (….oh Peter! I miss you!!), I asked Dad if I could borrow his. He graciously agreed not only to loan me his truck but to help me haul hay as well.
So far, so good.
Dad decided that it would be easier to borrow the neighbor’s trailer than take the canopy off his truck (a decision he later questioned….). When I arrived at my parents’ home (after my 5 minute/$0.15 detour) Dad led me to the truck, which was stuck in the neighbor’s driveway.
I need to clarify something before proceeding with this story. I appreciate my Father’s truck. It has taken me on numerous Women’s and Children’s camping adventures, hauled countless bales of hay for me, and recently carried 28 Ogden Preparatory Academy students’ backpacks to the Grand Canyon and back. I really do appreciate the truck BUT (you knew there was a “but” coming, didn’t you?) it is a wimpy truck. It gets stuck just facing a puddle—entering the water and/or mud is not necessary—approaching it is all it takes. Green grass, damp dirt, a slight slope—I have seen all of these conditions hopeless mire Dad’s truck.
Back to the story…..
Pulling a trailer on a snow covered driveway was too much for the truck and it was, predictably, stuck. After a couple futile attempts to push the truck out, we unhooked the trailer and tried again to free the vehicle. Ten minutes of shovel work, salt placement, and back-and-forth pushing yielded results; the truck could move but the trailer could not.
Another neighbor (not the owner of the trailer) noticed our predicament, hooked his double axelled, four wheel drive truck to the trailer and pulled it onto the road for us. We re-attached the trailer to Dad’s truck and were off to the next aspect of our adventure.
The barn that houses the hay that I wanted to purchase sits at the end of a 100 meter driveway. Dad pulled in the driveway and circled so that he could back the trailer into the barn. The circle he drove took the truck into a ditch that was concealed by a snow bank. Stuck. Again. Slick snow, deep ditch, timid truck…..there was no way we were getting out of this one without help.
The hay farmer and his foreman (and his tractor) came to the rescue. The tractor hadn’t been started all winter so it took some time, effort and a couple sprays from a propellant-powered can of some sort to get it going. Finally fired up and then hooked up, the tractor needed three tries to get the truck out of the ditch.
When the truck was once again free, we loaded the hay without drama and began the drive to my home (8 miles away) where we planned to stack the hay under the rainfly in my holey hay shed.
Two blocks from my house a bearing on the trailer came apart. It was the bearing that holds the axle together so a wheel and half an axle went wildly east, a chain link fence the only thing keeping it from careening onto the train tracks. The backing plate (the metal dish that supports the brake drums) carved a 30 meter long, 2 cm deep grove in the road before we stopped. And we were stopped. Again.
Two blocks is not much when one is walking or even running but two blocks is a long way to haul 18 seventy-five pound hay bales. Neighbors to the rescue. Again.
I walked to Brixey’s (our north next door neighbors) and asked to borrow their truck. While Dad and I were transferring hay from the trailer to the Brixey’s truck, an unknown (and as yet unidentified) man pulled up behind us, got out, and, joining us in our hay-transferring efforts, said, “I work at the machining shop just down the street [three blocks south] and I have a fork lift I could use to help you get this trailer off the street until you can get it repaired.”
Dad, Mr. Machinist, and I finished transferring the hay. I drove the Brixey’s truck to my holey hay shed and stacked the hay under the rainfly. In the meantime, Mr. Machinist and Dad used the forklift to transport the crippled trailer to the machining shop parking lot where it would stay until Dad could go home, get the canopy off the truck (yes, there is a HUGE irony is this), and return at which point Mr. Machinist would again use the forklift to put the trailer into the back of the truck and Dad would haul it to a repair shop.
As of this morning, all is in its proper place. The trailer is in the shop, the hay is in the barn, and Dad’s truck, canopy in place, is in his garage. And there is a beautiful green leather couch in my living room.
Saint Sallie (my sweet sister-in-law) learned that I wanted a new-to-me couch to replace the 4th generation (started with cousin Jennilyn, transferred to sister-in-law Jill, moved to Parents Hislop, and finally ended up with me) red/green/gold/navy striped couch that currently lives in my living room. There is nothing wrong with our couch, it’s just that when people sit in in, they sink so deep a forklift is needed to get them out….and at $22/hour (see below) forklifts are expensive. So a new-to-me couch would be nice. Sallie is nice so she has been scouring ksl.com’s classifieds to find a couch for me.
On this same fortuitous Friday morning Sallie found a free green leather couch available in Sunset. The owner told Sallie that two other people had called wanting it and the first one there could have it. Without hesitation, not even taking time to call me, Sallie removed the seats from her van and drove quickly to Sunset. She won the couch race, loaded the maxi couch into her mini van, drove to my house and delivered it just as I finished stacking the hay in the holey shed. Dad and I carried the couch into the living room and there it sits.
Curious, I decided to do a little figuring….
Cost of renting a 5 x 8 box trailer to haul hay, 4 hr minimum $30
Cost of tow to pull trailer onto street
$45 hookup fee plus $3/mile $48
Labor cost of neighbor who pulled trailer to street
Contractor, $50/hour for 15 minutes $13
Cost of renting a 4WD tractor, 1 hr minimum $45
Labor cost of farm foreman $16/hour for 30 minutes $ 8
Labor cost of hay farmer not calculated because sometimes farmers end up paying for the
opportunity to farm
Cost of renting a truck to haul hay for 2 blocks, 75 minute minimum $20
Cost to rent forklift $22/hour, 1 hour minimum $22
Labor cost of machinist $22/hour for 30 minutes $11
Labor and truck rental cost for Dad’s services not calculated for fear I would feel obligated to
pay him if I knew...
Moving van to haul couch, $20/day one day minimum $20
Green leather couch, eBay $100 $100
Cost of labor for Sallie’s service also not calculated because she is priceless.
TOTAL: $315
[Estimates based on current online price listings from Diamond Rental, Ogden; Great Harvest Bread, Clinton; Home Depot, Ogden; Google searches, and eBay]
“Cast your bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days” has a new meaning for me. I am not the financial genius of the family but it seems that $315 is not a bad return for a $0.15 investment…. I think I got the best end of the deal and it did not even take “many days” for it to come back to me.
Melvin J. Ballard said it another way: “A person cannot give a crust to the Lord without receiving a loaf in return. “ I testify it is not quite true. Friday I have gave a couple crusts worth of service (Great Harvest Bread slices average $.30/slice so $.15 is a reasonable cost for a crust or two) and I got 63 loaves worth of service (most Great Harvest breads are $5/loaf; $315/5 = 63). It is not true because the return on investment was much greater than one crust to one loaf. Seriously.
So, cast your bread upon the waters……and see what comes back to you. It probably will not be soggy bread. It may not be a forklift or a green couch either but it is bound to be good.
Not My Job....Thank Heavens!
Top Ten Lists: FUN!! There are top ten lists for nearly everything you can think of and many things you would not think of……“Top Ten Toughest Characters in the Bible”, “Top Ten People Who Accidentally Saved Their Own Lives”, “Top Ten Tiny Animals with Enough Poison to Absolutely Destroy You”, etc….. (http://www.toptenz.net/)
Writing (and thinking) of Top Ten lists, I started thinking (and
am now writing) of a Top Ten List of my own: God’s Top Ten Greatest Gifts to Me. Topping the list, of course, would be Christ’s Atonement, His gift to all that makes eternal life possible and mortal life meaningful. Near the top of the list would be agency with its accompanying lessons on freedom and accountability, family with its soul-expanding capacity for joy, and prayer—what a gift it is to be able to communicate directly with Deity! Somewhere on the list there might be things like fresh blueberries, buttered (real butter) popcorn, just-cut alfalfa, and/or the smell of desert rain. Certainly on the list
would be the commandment “Judge not”. I am so grateful for the divine mandate not to judge and it upon this great gift that I will vociferate today.
What a blessing it is not to have to judge! Seriously. To judge fairly requires so much time, effort, energy, and wisdom, all of which are scarce commodities in my life. The plea “Don’t judge me until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes” is both wise and valid. How can I possibly judge people without the knowledge that walking in their shoes brings, without seeing the scars on their souls, understanding the the bruises on their beings, and comprehending power of their pain? It is not possible; I cannot judge without knowing and I cannot know without walking and I cannot walk that far in that many people’s shoes. (Imagine the blisters!!!) Gratefully (oh so gratefully!) I do not have to. Thanks to God’s great “Judge not” gift, I don’t have to walk or judge. Christ, through His infinite atonement, has walked in their shoes and He, with infinite love and intimate knowledge, will judge. All He asks me to do is love and that is something I can do.
Loving is much easier than judging. To love, I don’t have to walk in their shoes; I can walk beside them in my shoes (which is much more comfortable!). Loving may also be carrying their shoes or even carrying them in their shoes but it is not judging and it is certainly not condemning. On the contrary, loving is accepting and embracing. It is also empowering—both to those who give and to those who receive—and reciprocal, as those who give become those who receive and visa versa.
Love!! All I have to do is love. It is so much more pleasant to love than to judge. Thank you God taking on the responsibility of judgment and giving me the gift of love.
Which brings me to another point…..
I learned recently that there are hundreds of LTBG (lesbian/gay/bisexual/transsexual) youth along the Wasatch Front who are homeless, wandering the streets and living in the canyons. They are told they are “better off dead” and are no longer welcome in their families. Countless others struggle in homes and wards and schools, searching for a place to belong, alienated by harsh judgments and critical comments.
These are children, God’s children. Have we walked in their shoes? Do we see the scars on their souls? The bruises on their beings? The power of their pain? Christ said, “Suffer the little children to come unto me” (Mark 10:14). These LTBG youth are God’s “little children” and they are suffering. How will they ever come unto Christ if they don’t feel His love through
us?
Nephi says “…we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophecy of Christ….that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins” (2 Nephi 25:26). We all have sins. All of us. We all must come to Christ. Todos. He is the source of healing for all of us. Everyone. We must talk of Christ, rejoice in Christ, preach of Christ, and, MOST IMPORTANTLY, we must follow Christ that our children may know to what source to look for healing, for acceptance, for love, and for salvation. We must emphatically embrace them and, through our love, they will feel Christ’s
love.
Does embracing our LTBG youth mean that we turn aside from Latter Day Saint doctrine? No, certainly not, not any more than loving my neighbor who smokes or my friend who fornicates means that I reject the Word of Wisdom or the Law of
Chastity. As Rick Warren sagely stated, “Our culture has accepted two huge lies. The first is that if you disagree with
someone’s lifestyle, you must fear or hate them. The second is that to love someone means you agree with everything they believe or do. Both are nonsense. You don’t have to compromise convictions to be compassionate.” I can obey Christ’s greatest commandments—to love God and my fellow man—and still believe in the Word of Wisdom, the Law of Chastity, and the Sanctity of Temple Marriage.
How will all of this work out eternally? I don’t know. And, thanks to Christ’s “Judge not” gift, it is not my problem. It is His problem and I trust Him to work it all out. He’ll perform his task—which is to judge—and I’ll do mine—which is to love.
Nephi said to an angel, “…I know that he [God] loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things"
(2 Nephi 11:17). Like Nephi, I don’t know the meaning (or explanation) of all things but I do know that He loves His children, all of them. Knowing His love, I trust His judgment. He will work things out; that is His job. My job is to love.
And I am grateful for that.
Love,
Teresa
Obedience: A to Z
Today’s letter starts with two dogs and a tail and a tale.
The tale begins with Annie, our beloved Australian Shepard/Border Collie mix, who did not have a tail but who did have very obedient spirit. Because she was obedient, we could trust her and, because we could trust her, she had a lot of freedom.
Zorro, our bemoaned Australian Shepard mix, does have a tail but does not have an obedient spirit. Because he is not obedient, we cannot trust him and, because we cannot trust him, he spends a lot of time locked up.
Though our yard is not fenced, Annie respected the property boundaries and stayed within them, even when we were not home. As a consequence, Annie was free to roam the place. We left her outside even when we were gone, confident that she would be there when we returned, which she was. Her obedience gave her freedom.
Zorro does not respect the property lines and will sneak off to explore the neighborhood when we are not looking.
As a consequence, he is allowed outside only when we are outside. He spends most of his life either locked in the house or locked in the dog kennel because we cannot trust him. His disobedience restricts his freedom.
When I went running, Annie ran beside me, never running further than 10 m in front of me, never straying from the designated path, and always responding with I called. As a consequence, Annie and I ran without a leash (unless we were nailed by the dog catcher); she was free to sniff trees and leave pee-mails on fire hydrants at will.
In contrast, Zorro does not stay by my side when we jog and does not respond readily when I call. Therefore, when I run with Zorro, he must be on a leash. His lack of obedience results in significant restrictions to his freedom; he does not get to sniff anything and he does not get to read or leave pee-mails.
Because Annie was obedient, I took her places with me, exciting places for a dog like soccer games, hiking trails, and beaver ponds. Because Zorro is not obedient, I do not take him with me anywhere. When I go exciting places for dogs, like soccer games, hiking trails, and beaver ponds, he stays home, locked in the dog kennel.
So, what do I learn from this A to Z (Annie to Zorro) dog tale? Obedience brings freedom.
And so it is with my life. Because I am obedient to the laws of health (D&C 89, called the Word of Wisdom in LDS culture) I can “run and not be weary and walk and not faint”. [Okay, I do get a bit weary when I run, especially when I race up and down a basketball court, but I can still run, which I think is the point, and I have not ever fainted when walking.] I am not
addicted to drugs or alcohol, which addictions are very freedom limiting. And I am free from diseases caused by cigarette smoking and alcohol abuse. Obedience brings freedom.
Obedience to the law of chastity (Genesis 2:24; D&C 2:22, God’s commandment for sexual purity; abstinence before marriage and complete fidelity after) gives me freedom from sexually transmitted diseases and freedom from the emotional wreckage caused by broken promises.
Obedience to God’s commandment to keep the Sabbath Day holy (Exodus 20:8, D&C 59:9-14) gives me freedom, for at least one day a week, from the stressful demands of work. I love this commandment! I am so grateful that once a week, guaranteed, I can “rest from my labors” and freely enjoy my family and the sweet peace brought by reverent worship.
And the list continues…..obedience to the prophet’s counsel to have a year’s supply of food frees me from dependence on others in case of emergency; obedience to Christ’s command to pray always (3 Nephi 18:15) gives me freedom from feelings of loneliness and isolation; obedience to His commandments to search and study the scriptures gives me the truths that set me free from Satan’s traps (John 8:32).
Obedience brings freedom.
Obedience also brings blessings.
I had an insightful experience related to blessings and obedience in the temple last week. Our priesthood leaders asked us to be in the Bountiful Temple chapel by 4:30 for the 5:00 session. Thinking that we knew better—“Being there at 4:30 is overkill” were the exact words spoken—we did not arrive in the chapel until 4:40. We saw the rest of our ward, those who had been obedient to the leader’ counsel, sitting several rows in front of us in the temple chapel. Among those sitting in
front of us I recognized several beloved friends, people I eagerly anticipated worshipping with in the temple.
It was busy in the temple that day, so busy that the 5:00 session filled up before our row was called. Those who had obediently arrived in the chapel by 4:30, as counseled by our leaders, worshipped together. Those of us who arrived later had to wait. And then, because the temple was really busy that day, we had to wait again. Had we been obedient, we
could have worshiped with our friends.
It was a small thing, really. Ten minutes. A missed temple session. Sixty minutes longer waiting in the temple chapel; temple chapels are not bad places to be. We were still able to worship in the temple that day and we had a good experience. But the incident provoked a lot of thought for me. I was not punished for disobedience—I was still able to worship—but I missed the blessing of being able to worship with my friends.
Obedience brings blessings.
More thoughts about obedience……
In ward counsel [ward counsel is a meeting where those with leadership responsibilities in the congregation meet together and discuss how they can best serve the congregation’s members] last Sunday we had a discussion about reverence in our worship service. Our stake president [the local leader with direct stewardship over our ward] has asked that we be reverent in the chapel; that we engage in our conversations in the foyer and, upon entering the chapel, that we sit quietly, listening to the sacred music being played, preparing ourselves to worship our Savior, and respecting the rights of others to do the same.
This is a fabulous idea but very hard to apply in real life. We, as an LDS people (like most groups of like-mined people) are very friendly. We love to meet and greet each other and it is not a quiet process. In most cases, we see each other
only at church and want to catch up. We also want to reach out to each other; if someone looks great or looks sad, if someone has been absent for a while and is returning, if there is a stranger in our midst, we want to reach out to them, to recognize them, to let them know that we notice and that we care. And we do it when we see them in the chapel. That is what the Savior would do, wouldn’t He?
I think not. I think the Savior would do all of those things—He would notice, reach out, validate, greet, perhaps hug and definitely love—but I think He would do them somewhere besides the chapel. I think the Savior would be obedient to His Father. And, if we believe that our priesthood leaders are called of God (which we do, Article of Faith 5) and we believe that they are inspired of God to lead, guide, and direct us according to His will (which we do, D&C 1:38), then we must believe that the counsel given us by our leaders is the counsel God would give us, if He were here. And the Savior, who submitted His will perfectly to His Father’s (Matthew 26:39), would follow God’s counsel.
Christ was perfectly obedient. Though sinless and clearly without need to wash away sin, He was baptized in obedience to His Father’s commandment (Matthew 3:15, 3 Nephi 31:7). In obedience He prayed and worshipped in the temple (Luke 2:49). He told the Nephites “I came into the world to do the will of the Father, because my Father sent me” (3 Nephi 27:13). And, ultimately, though it was so painful that it caused blood to seep from His every pore (D&C 19:18), Christ submitted His will to the Father’s (Matthew 26:39) , obediently “drank the bitter cup”, paid the price for our sins, and was lifted up on the cross and crucified.
Christ is our perfect example and He was perfectly obedience. His obedience bought us freedom and great blessings, even the greatest of blessings which is life eternal (D&C 14:7).
Our obedience will bring us freedom and great blessings also. I know that when we obey God we open doors to special blessings that are available only through obedience (D&C 130:21). I have a firm conviction that there is a power in obedience, that obedience to God in and of itself, brings a tremendous power into our lives that comes as a direct
result of willingly submitting our will to the will of our Father.
There are many who would disagree. They would say that obedience to God’s commands restricts us, that we are
an oppressed and limited people because we obey the fictional dictates of an imagined being, that we follow blindly and are suppressed by our ignorance but I know that this is not true.
I know that obedience frees us because we obey freely. We, like all of God’s children, have the freedom to choose and we choose to obey our God because we trust Him. We know Him, we love Him, and we trust Him. Because we trust Him, we obey Him and because we obey Him, we are free, we are blessed, and we are powerful.
So, in the spirit of obedience, Lance, Chick, Tanah, and I spent our Saturday afternoon and evening in SLC at a youth family history event. I could care less about family history. Really. I find it mildly interesting that Joseph Smith broke one of my ancestor’s legs in a wrestling match and that one of Lance’s ancestors was a famous “madam” in Park City but only mildly interesting. I am much more interested in the fact that the Black Widow we kept in a jar all winter is still alive and ate four crickets this week. The family history “bug” (like the Black Widow) just has not bitten me. I feel no desire to know about my
ancestors.
However, I have a HUGE desire to have the blessings promised to those who do family history and I have a HUGE testimony of the power of obedience so off we went to SLC, to spend our precious Saturday listening to presentations on family history. Blah, blah, blah…... Obedience can be boring…...but it often gets better and Saturday’s experience kept getting better and better as the evening wore on. We left the conference totally jazzed about family history and totally committed to
start working on FamilySearch.org today (as in 3/24/2013).
And I fully anticipate we will receive the promised blessings. Elder Bednar [one of Christ’s Twelve Apostles on Earth today and certainly a mouthpiece for God, D&C 1:38], in his October 2011 conference address (http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2011/10/the-hearts-of-the-children-shall-turn?lang=eng&query=october+,+elder+(name%3a"David+A.+Bednar") invited the youth to participate in family history and promised some great things to those who do. He said:
"I invite the young people of the Church to learn about and experience
the Spirit of Elijah. I encourage you to study, to search out your ancestors,
and to prepare yourselves to perform proxy baptisms in the house of the Lord
for your kindred dead (see D&C 124:28–36). And I
urge you to help other people identify their family
histories.
"As you respond in faith to this invitation, your hearts shall turn to
the fathers. The promises made to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob will be implanted in
your hearts. Your patriarchal blessing, with its declaration of lineage, will
link you to these fathers and be more meaningful to you. Your love and gratitude for your ancestors will increase.
Your testimony of and conversion to the
Savior will become deep and abiding. And
I promise you will be protected against the intensifying influence of the
adversary. As you participate in and love this holy work, you will be
safeguarded in your youth and throughout your
lives."
I took the liberty of bolding the promises I am most excited about. Read those!!! As we (I am still in my youth
geologically speaking) accept the invitation to do family history work our conversion to the Savior will be DEEP and ABIDING, we will be PROTECTED from Satan, and we will be safeguarded for our WHOLE LIVES!! Holy promises, Batman!!! I would do a lot (a lot more than simply doing some family history) to secure those blessings for my children.
And, who knows, maybe I’ll even learn to like family history work in the process. :)
So, there you have it—this week’s letter. It is LONG and not really very funny but I hope that it will provoke
thought. I do have a testimony of obedience and felt compelled to share it today. Consider it my Easter message given a week early. Next week I will return to a more traditional post. Click in to learn about Grace’s science fair, the latest on Miles and M----, a poem about happy toes (Beth Adams is amazing!) and maybe even more about the Black Widow.
Love,
Teresa
Making Easter More Christ-like
Easter egg hunts can be fun filled, exciting events for small children. They can also b frantic, frenzied free-for-alls where only the strongest and swiftest
survive. Concerned about the lack of charity we observed in a local Easter egg hunt, we decided to sponsor an event of our own. The results were phenomenal. This is what we did:
1. A week before Easter we invited 10-20 neighborhood children to join us for an Easter egg hunt in our backyard, to be
held the Saturday before Easter Sunday.
2. To defray costs, we asked the parents of the invited children to bring a bag of Easter candy to our home a couple
hours before the hunt was scheduled to begin.
3. We hid the candy in the pasture.
4. When the children arrived, Easter baskets in hand, we gathered them together and discussed the meaning of Easter. They taught us that we celebrate Christ's resurrection at Easter time. We discussed the blessings and opportunities brought to us by His resurrection and each child, in his or her own way,
expressed gratitude for Christ and the gift of His resurrection.
5. We asked the children how we can show our gratitude to Christ. Among the answers given were *Follow the commandment. **Obey
Him, **Be nice to each other, and **Love one another.
6. We then told the children that we were going to show Christ our love for Him during the Easter egg hunt by showing our love for each other.
During this Easter egg hunt we would only put candy in other people's baskets; there would be no putting candy in one's own basket.
7. We reviewed several possible scenarios with the children. Do you only share with your brother or sister? What if a younger child
does not have very much candy in his basket? What should you do? Can you share with someone you do not know? What if someone put a lot of candy in your basket, would it be okay to take it out of your basket and put it in someone else=s who did not have as much candy?
The children answered the questions with generosity and enthusiasm. We began the hunt and watched the event unfold. The children were wonderful.
They raced around the yard, grabbing eggs and bags of candy and happily depositing them in the baskets of others. The littlest children ended up with the largest amounts of candy; they were running around a little less quickly and therefore were easier targets. One girl tripped and spilled her basket. She was instantly surrounded by children helping her pick up her candy and return it to her bag, a marked contrast to an earlier Easter egg hunt where our son spilled his basket
and the surrounding kids made off with most of his goodies. One of the children said, "When we share we get to be happy twice----once when we find the candy and once when we share it." As parents we were at least twice as happy also!
survive. Concerned about the lack of charity we observed in a local Easter egg hunt, we decided to sponsor an event of our own. The results were phenomenal. This is what we did:
1. A week before Easter we invited 10-20 neighborhood children to join us for an Easter egg hunt in our backyard, to be
held the Saturday before Easter Sunday.
2. To defray costs, we asked the parents of the invited children to bring a bag of Easter candy to our home a couple
hours before the hunt was scheduled to begin.
3. We hid the candy in the pasture.
4. When the children arrived, Easter baskets in hand, we gathered them together and discussed the meaning of Easter. They taught us that we celebrate Christ's resurrection at Easter time. We discussed the blessings and opportunities brought to us by His resurrection and each child, in his or her own way,
expressed gratitude for Christ and the gift of His resurrection.
5. We asked the children how we can show our gratitude to Christ. Among the answers given were *Follow the commandment. **Obey
Him, **Be nice to each other, and **Love one another.
6. We then told the children that we were going to show Christ our love for Him during the Easter egg hunt by showing our love for each other.
During this Easter egg hunt we would only put candy in other people's baskets; there would be no putting candy in one's own basket.
7. We reviewed several possible scenarios with the children. Do you only share with your brother or sister? What if a younger child
does not have very much candy in his basket? What should you do? Can you share with someone you do not know? What if someone put a lot of candy in your basket, would it be okay to take it out of your basket and put it in someone else=s who did not have as much candy?
The children answered the questions with generosity and enthusiasm. We began the hunt and watched the event unfold. The children were wonderful.
They raced around the yard, grabbing eggs and bags of candy and happily depositing them in the baskets of others. The littlest children ended up with the largest amounts of candy; they were running around a little less quickly and therefore were easier targets. One girl tripped and spilled her basket. She was instantly surrounded by children helping her pick up her candy and return it to her bag, a marked contrast to an earlier Easter egg hunt where our son spilled his basket
and the surrounding kids made off with most of his goodies. One of the children said, "When we share we get to be happy twice----once when we find the candy and once when we share it." As parents we were at least twice as happy also!
What is Self?
If Lance were not Christian, he would be Buddhist. The Eight Fold Path of the Middle Way (http://www.thebigview.com/buddhism/eightfoldpath.html) directs sincere souls on a path to core-deep goodness. Though I know very little about Buddhism, what little I know gives me insight and leaves me wanting to know more. I find the concepts deepen my Christian faith and the practice peaceful-izes my life.
I recently read a Buddhist-based discussion about self. What is self? Is there permanent self, a single entity? Or is it constantly changing? If you were to describe your self to another’s self, what would you say? The question intrigued me. People are always talking about finding themselves. “I need to take time to find myself.” “I am not sure who I am.” “I found myself in ……” I began pondering the question myself.
What is my self? Am I the upbeat science teacher at Ogden Preparatory Academy whose smile fades only when the students mistreat a substitute? Or the almost
distraught professional who stews about how to get third period to understand the rock cycle? Am I the positive Primary President who confidently invites teachers and children to come to Christ? Or the humbled disciple who wonders how she could have failed to trust the Lord again? Am I the confident person who steps
forward in ward council to share an idea? Or the reticent recluse who rarely says anything in faculty meeting? Am I the grumpy woman who looks with dismay at the pile of dirty clothes her husband leaves on the floor right in front of the dirty clothes basket? Or the tenderhearted wife whose gratitude for a kind, loving companion brings tears to her eyes? Am I the fretting mother who fears she has totally failed to prepare her children for life in the real world, knowing that she has trouble getting them to brush their teeth consistently, recognizing that training them to make their beds is a lost cause, and hoping against hope that they have learned how to work? Or the proud woman whose heart swells when Tanah spends her Friday night with a lost soul, when Grace
works tirelessly writing and directly a play for her grandfather’s Cub Scouts, when Miles snuggles with her at night, and when Chick smashes her in a bear
hug? There are so many me’s…… Positive, upbeat, confident, quiet, doubting, despairing…. What is the real me? Who am I really?
Who am I really?
When the question in my mind morphed from “What is self” to “Who am I” the answer morphed from confusion to clarity. Who am I? I am a child of God.
I am a child of God.
Simple? Yes. True? YES. This simple truth answered all the questions. I am a child of God and, as His offspring, I am a learning, growing, changing, multi-faceted, dynamic, eternal being. I am all the things I described and more. I have eternal roots and an eterna destiny. I have a mortal body and mortal challenges. I struggle with sadness and learn to be happy. I fight fear and develop faith. Doubt plagues me and trust sustains me. I need help and I find hope. I seek my Father and find His Son.
I am a child of God.
I recently read a Buddhist-based discussion about self. What is self? Is there permanent self, a single entity? Or is it constantly changing? If you were to describe your self to another’s self, what would you say? The question intrigued me. People are always talking about finding themselves. “I need to take time to find myself.” “I am not sure who I am.” “I found myself in ……” I began pondering the question myself.
What is my self? Am I the upbeat science teacher at Ogden Preparatory Academy whose smile fades only when the students mistreat a substitute? Or the almost
distraught professional who stews about how to get third period to understand the rock cycle? Am I the positive Primary President who confidently invites teachers and children to come to Christ? Or the humbled disciple who wonders how she could have failed to trust the Lord again? Am I the confident person who steps
forward in ward council to share an idea? Or the reticent recluse who rarely says anything in faculty meeting? Am I the grumpy woman who looks with dismay at the pile of dirty clothes her husband leaves on the floor right in front of the dirty clothes basket? Or the tenderhearted wife whose gratitude for a kind, loving companion brings tears to her eyes? Am I the fretting mother who fears she has totally failed to prepare her children for life in the real world, knowing that she has trouble getting them to brush their teeth consistently, recognizing that training them to make their beds is a lost cause, and hoping against hope that they have learned how to work? Or the proud woman whose heart swells when Tanah spends her Friday night with a lost soul, when Grace
works tirelessly writing and directly a play for her grandfather’s Cub Scouts, when Miles snuggles with her at night, and when Chick smashes her in a bear
hug? There are so many me’s…… Positive, upbeat, confident, quiet, doubting, despairing…. What is the real me? Who am I really?
Who am I really?
When the question in my mind morphed from “What is self” to “Who am I” the answer morphed from confusion to clarity. Who am I? I am a child of God.
I am a child of God.
Simple? Yes. True? YES. This simple truth answered all the questions. I am a child of God and, as His offspring, I am a learning, growing, changing, multi-faceted, dynamic, eternal being. I am all the things I described and more. I have eternal roots and an eterna destiny. I have a mortal body and mortal challenges. I struggle with sadness and learn to be happy. I fight fear and develop faith. Doubt plagues me and trust sustains me. I need help and I find hope. I seek my Father and find His Son.
I am a child of God.