Change is Good

Back in the day, I was a member of the Myrtle Beach Ward for several years. I loved it. I had some great friends there, and even today, I think fondly of Mary, Gail, Carol, Wendy, Cora Lee, Frances, Barbara, Sarah, Dorothea, and too many others to mention. Truly, these “sisters” were and are dear to my heart. Not only did I enjoy their friendship, but I also admired and appreciated the many contributions they made to my children’s spiritual growth.

Carrie might never have gone to Washington unless Frances Radvansky had taken it upon herself to take Carrie and two other young women for a few days. Her daughter Kim was Young Women’s President and made an everlastingly strong impression on both Carrie and Elizabeth. For anyone reading this blog who thinks that’s an exaggeration, you just don’t understand the impact of strong leaders and examples. Linda Moore was one of Elizabeth’s favorite Primary teachers. Cora Lee Jennings was also quite a role model, and more than once the girls would hear, “Remember Cora Lee,” as they ventured out on jaunts with their friends. And Gail Atkinson. I will never forget our afternoons on the beach and at the Springmaid pool as we yakked away about any and everything while Paul and Taylor swam. Honestly, I could write an essay about each of these “elect ladies,” but I don’t have time or energy tonight. 

Life was grand. Then one day I noticed that several Stake leaders were present, and there was a good reason. They had an announcement to make. Beginning the following week, certain families who lived more in the direction of Conway were to begin attending the small Conway branch. Huh? It didn’t really hit me until a couple of hours later as I sat in Relief Society and realized that that would be the last time I enjoyed the companionship and proximity of the women who were so instrumental in my life.

The next Sunday came, and as Frankie and the kids and drove  into the parking lot of the new church, we felt a gamut of emotions ranging from anxiety to downright resentment. Why did we have to move?? Not only that, but the edifice itself was a triple wide modular unit far different in appearance from the Myrtle Beach chapel. Plus, we had to sit in regular chairs, not pews.  What had we gotten into? There wasn’t even an organ, just a piano! Little did I know at that point just how strongly I’d feel the “spirit” in that small, holy building.

There are far too many great things that happened during those years to list them all. I mainly wanted to convey this one point:  Serving in this tiny branch was probably one of the best things that could have happened to my family, especially the children. Carrie, a college student, became Primary President, and it wasn’t long before Elizabeth and Paul were old enough to assume leadership positions that allowed them to grow in ways that might not have happened so readily in a bigger ward.  

Today the Conway branch is the Conway Ward, and the members meet in a beautiful new building, one that was recently renovated and enlarged. I love visiting there, and so do the children. Lib and I visited there on a recent Sunday, and we felt nothing but warmth and acceptance during the time we spent with our fellow Saints.  Carrie and her family are at the coast this week, and she’s ultra excited about visiting Conway Sunday.

I’d like to join my daughters and grandchildren, but I’ll be attending the newly formed Camden Ward. I’ll miss Connie, Cindy, Telene, Kristi, Christy, Darla, Valencia, Lisa, Laresa, and all my other friends who are now members of the newly formed Elgin Ward.  Still, I’m looking forward to the changes ahead for all of us, and I KNOW that we will all grow…just like my family and others did in Conway years ago.

Just Jump!

A shout out to my friend Martha and her story about Mortimer the mockingbird. I like it because it’s charming and well-written AND because it has psychological underpinnings. I just know it’s going to be a successful children’s book because so many children and their parents would appreciate the delightful way that Martha relays Mortimer’s anxieties and how, with support and courage, he’s able to venture out…in fact, he’s able to fly.

Don’t we all want to fly a little? Or are you one of those folks who’s so afraid of flapping your wings and jumping out of the nest that you’re stuck in a rut…a nice secure, boring rut. Like Mortimer, many of us see the blueberries and want them very much (blueberries being a metaphor for good stuff just slightly out of our reach). We’re just too afraid to jump. Fortunately for Mortimer, he has two loving parents who take the time to encourage and teach him.

Martha’s book reminds me of a quote from Who Moved my Cheese, another delightful book. Although the cheese book was written for adults, the message, especially this quote, is exactly the same: “It’s better to wander in the maze than to remain in a cheeseless situation.” You’ve got to love that…and to see the truth of it.

There are times in all of our lives when the blueberries and cheese are gone and there are no more on the immediate horizon. They might be there, but we’re going to have to get off the tree limb or out in the maze to get them. Although it might be scary, I hope I can always be like Mortimer and just start flapping my wings and JUMP!

Monday Musings

 

I thought I’d done a pretty decent job of cleaning up after Carrie and her crew left Saturday, but apparently I didn’t.  Early this morning I had to walk around a pink baby doll stroller filled with fake food that Emma had been pushing around on Saturday morning. I found myself chuckling as I remembered how she stopped every few minutes to pretend to gobble up some food. She also spent some time on a plastic cell phone, her animated “conversations” made even more dramatic by much gesturing. Wonder who she got that from??!  

Just so no one will charge me with favoritism, I feel that little mixture of pleasure and pain as I look around and see evidence of my other recent  guests as well.  There’s the big stack of books that Braden and Brooke brought back to the guestroom for me to read. There are the two remaining muffins out of the 24 that Brooke helped (?) me bake for breakfast. Oh, and there are the juice glasses with yellow palm trees that I need to put away, the ones that Braden always enjoys drinking from. I haven’t made the bed upstairs yet; I kind of like looking at the still unmade sofa bed and recall the people who slept there, including baby Colton. What a precocious baby! While I left the room for 30 seconds, he somehow managed to get off of his mat and under a chair. Amazing.  Before I go back to work, I’ll need to put away the four rolls of paper towels that Elizabeth left here. Sweet girl.

Yes, it was a busy, crazy weekend with two of my three children and all of the grandchildren here. It sounds a little corny perhaps, but I always feel that they leave behind some  of their spirit with them when they go home. I’d like to think I have their laughter, their very breath, securely trapped within the walls of my home.

The only people missing were Amanda and Paul. Although I didn’t get to see Amanda at all, I did have the pleasure of dining with my handsome son on Friday. The Wendy’s on Assembly Street was quite a happening place that noon, and I’m glad we got to share some fries and small talk there.  One particular memory I have is of an older couple who were sitting across from each other, and at one point the man reached across the table and gently dabbed a little ketchup from her chin. I commented that we all need to look after one another just like the elderly gentleman was doing, and Paul nodded.

So what’s the point of this post? Just to say that the most powerful force in the world is love and that we’re all in this together. People need people, young ones and old ones, and when you’re fortunate enough to have family and friend connections, you’re blessed indeed.

Judge Sotomayor

I just have to get my two cents’ worth in about Judge Sotomayor and her confirmation hearings. Not only is she accomplished and smart, but she’s also cool, calm, and collected. She has the kind of mind and training that thoroughly qualifies her for this high office. The number one concern that I’ve heard voiced over and over and over again (yes, that many times) is that she just might let her Hispanic (make that Latina) background interfere with her decision making.

Get real, folks. Don’t you think the WASP background of much of the current Supreme Court continues to influence decision making? Do you hear many concerns about how a white male mentality might prejudice someone when interpreting the law? Um, maybe some but not that much. I’m fully aware that the Court is comprised of both genders and other races now. I haven’t been asleep all these years. It’s just that there seems to be such a big hullabaloo being made over this particular lady’s qualifications. One columnist even characterized the proceedings as “blood sport.” Gee whiz.

We all see the world as we are, not as it really is…or so says Anais Nin, and I believe that to be true. At the same time, fortunately for us, Judge Sotomayor is experienced, savvy, and smart enough to earnestly see beyond some of the prejudiced types of thinking that many of us “regular” people are guilty of. The very fact that people are so much up in arms demonstrates their own narrow-mindedness…perhaps even out and out bigotry. It’s just that they can’t see it.

Here’s an example. Several years ago, my employer held cultural diversity training for its employees on a yearly basis, and in the midst of one such session, a middle-aged white guy got into some heavy sighing and rude eye rolling. Clearly annoyed that he had to attend such a meeting, he let his displeasure be known. One of the facilitators asked him if he had something he’d like to share, and this is pretty much verbatim what his response was. “Yeah, I got a problem. I got a problem with being here listening to this silly stuff when I could be doing my job instead of sitting around looking at movies and doing useless  activities…or whatever you call that stuff we have to do.”

In exasperation, he then said, “Look, I wake up every morning, get dressed, and drive to work. I never think about the fact that I’m a white guy. That’s stupid to say that people actually think about gender or race or even age on a continuing basis.” Little did he know that he had fallen right into the facilitator’s hands. After a few moments of silence, she said, “Exactly. You are a white male. It’s your world, and you’ve never been denied admittance to anything or anywhere because of your gender or race.”

That might not have been the best example in the world, but it’s one that has stuck with me for 15 years or more. And you know, I feel certain that it stayed with that middle-aged white guy, an Air Force retiree who had waltzed right into another position that might not have been even offered to a woman, a person of color, or a Buddhist. In fact, I doubt if they’d even have been considered for an interview.

Back to the judge. Yes, she’s a woman of Hispanic heritage but she’s no different from the other judges in that they all have unique backgrounds that make them the people they are and influence the decisions they make. All of the justices differ from us, however, in that they’re acutely aware of these forces and make a conscientious effort to “rise above them” in defending the law of the land.

Ah, I feel much better now.

Happy Birthday, Mike

In psychology classes, we often talk about our first recollections. What was going on? What was your role? Were you the star of the show? The big brother or sister? The princess? The baby? What was going on? What emotions did you feel? Were you happy, sad, glad, mad, scared, or what? Who was there? Perhaps more importantly, who wasn’t? Some psychologists feel that these first memories are important in that they reveal something about our relationships, our roles, and our life themes.

Most of the time our first memories are of something that took place around 2 and a half or 3 years of age. Mine involves my brother Mike, my buddy who just happens to having a birthday today. I was around 3, so he must have been a year old, and we were sitting in the back seat of a car. Our mother was driving, and she wheeled the car into a parallel parking spot on Broad Street near First Baptist Church. She turned to us and said something like, “I’ll be right back. MaMa (our maternal grandmother) will be here with you.” With that, she got out of the car and walked into a building. Mike began to cry…and then cry some more.  Our grandmother seemed unconcerned, and aside from saying, “Don’t cry. Your mother’s coming back in a minute,” she offered little solace.  Big, strong sister that I was, I put my arm around him and also assured him that our sweet mama would be back momentarily.

That’s it. I remember nothing before or after the incident. I do know, however, that our mother came back and that she and my father spent their lives being good parents, the kind who walked the talk. One lesson in particular was “to keep on keeping on” when the going got tough. Mike’s going through a tough time right now, and as his big sister I hope he’ll remember our parents’ perseverance and strength as he endures this trial.

Hiking Thoughts

 

“Life’s journey is not traveled on a freeway devoid of obstacles, pitfalls, and snares. Rather, it is a pathway marked by forks and turnings. Decisions are constantly before us. To make them wisely, courage is needed: the courage to say, ‘No,’ the courage to say, ‘Yes.’ Decisions do determine destiny. The call for courage comes constantly to each of us. It has ever been so, and so shall it ever be.”
–Thomas S. Monson, “The Call for Courage,” Ensign, May 2004, 54

When I read this quote by President Monson, I immediately thought of my recent trip to the mountains of Tennessee.  We visited a little town called Erwin, mainly because we learned that there were some nice hiking trails in the nearby Cherokee National Forest. 

At first we sauntered along the trail listening to the birds, the babbling brook, and the rustling trees. The only other sounds were those of our footsteps and our occasional conversation. We were in heaven! All was well. Rested and energetic, we were even more invigorated by the beauty around us. There were campers too, and we enjoyed seeing their campfire smoke and smelling the breakfast bacon.

Soon the trail became a little more rigorous, and DH wondered aloud why we “had to do this.” Couldn’t we just sit on a rock and soak up the ambience? “No,” I insisted. “The deal was that you’d get to play golf and I’d get to hike up (on?) a bona fide mountain trail.” Not impressed with my weak argument, he shooed (sp.?) me ahead. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.” Onward and upward I went. Soon I noticed another sound: the beating of my own heart! Should I stop? What if I passed out and took a tumble down the mountain?

There were times when the path was so narrow that I wondered if I had indeed wandered off the trail somehow. A couple of times, I had to cross a creek by stepping gingerly and carefully on some huge boulders. Then there was the log lying across the path. Should I go under it, step over it, or view it as a sign to go back down? A family passed me on their way down and informed me that I probably had another hour to go to get to the top. Huh? That couldn’t be. I looked ahead from where they’d come, and my solo status hit me. The trail looked even steeper than the way I’d already traversed, and the silence (except for my heart) was deafening. I asked the family to tell my husband that I was turning back and would be down in a few minutes. I went across another creek, and when I looked back, there was no sign or sound of human life. How did the family disappear so quickly? Feeling uneasy, I headed back, and after a few minutes, I was relieved to see DH and the family.

In my four mile hike (approximately), I was reminded of several truths:

*It’s more fun when someone shares the experience with you.
*When obstacles appear, you have to step over them.
*You meet a lot of nice people on life’s path.
*The view is different at the top…lonelier too.
*It’s easier to quit than to persevere, but then where’s the reward in that?
*There is beauty all around. Sometimes you just have to get away from civilization to be reminded of it.
*The human body is a marvelous thing, especially the heart.
*Nothing worthwhile is attained without effort.

Independence Day

Not a day goes by that I don’t think about this great country, this choice land cradled between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. From sea to shining sea, we are a diverse, heterogeneous group. In terms of language, race, religion, ethnicity, and tradition, the United States probably has a more motley population than any country in the world. If you ever doubt it, take a trip to the Big Apple, and you might find yourself feeling somewhat like a minority. I know I did. In fact, I snapped the above picture at Ellis Island recently because of  all of the faces represented,  I couldn’t find anyone who looked like me. The second picture is of the same “faces” from a different angle.

When the 4^th of July rolls around, I find myself reflecting even more on our great land and also on the many Fourths that I’ve experienced in the past. I’m not going to bore everyone with a long trip down Memory Lane, but I would like to mention one of my most unforgettable July memories. It has nothing to do with food, parades, fireworks, family get-togethers, or patriotic songs.

About 20 years ago, my first husband and I arose before daybreak and left our three sleeping children in the care of my mother so that we could go to the beach for an early morning run. Mornings are always special in that they hold the fresh promise of a new day, but this July morning was even more extraordinary. It was Independence Day, and we were on the beach. We thought we were alone except for a few scattered shell seekers, and then we saw them: a Vietnamese family huddled closely together on the steps of one of the beach access walkways.  Quietly staring at the ocean, there were grandparents, parents, and three young children.  Why the scene hit me with such force, I don’t know. I guess it had something to do with the combination of the holiday with the sight of the family staring out to sea. I was forcibly struck with the thought America is a land for ALL PEOPLE, not just descendents of those who came over on the Mayflower.

Yesterday was a fine, somewhat low-key day, one that began with breakfast with Paul and Amanda and ended with a cookout with a few members of my husband’s family. I’ve had some pretty spectacular Fourth celebrations, including a crazy one in which Carrie and I joined festivities in Camden, Sumter, and Florence before arriving  home in Myrtle Beach around midnight. I’ve seen fireworks on the Hudson River in New York, on the coast of Myrtle Beach, and on the Washington Mall with Paul, Ella, Joanna, and thousands of other celebrants, but yesterday I didn’t see a single flash of light. While that was okay, next year I plan to go wherever the fireworks are so that I can better commemorate America’s birthday with my fellow Americans.

As George W. Bush would say, “God bless America.”

Sunday’s Uplift

I’ve been quite remiss in my blogging lately. I could blame working and traveling, but it seems that I’ve allowed facebook to eat up my blogging time. It’s easier and faster…and fun too. Although it doesn’t take that much time (I’ve limited myself to 15 minutes per day), it still take me away from blogging. That said, I thought I take a few minutes this morning and post one of the many things I’ve been thinking about.  

This past Sunday my daughter Elizabeth and I had the opportunity to go to church in Conway. It was an exhilarating experience for us for a couple of reasons. It’s always spiritually uplifting to worship with like-minded people, especially those who genuinely care about you. That’s the way it is in Conway. We know and love most of the people there, and I’m sure that if we lived there, we’d grow to love them all. Some of those people have known Lib since she was an infant and one man in particular still refers to her as “Elizabeth Sue.” I won’t mention any names; I’ll just say that we used to LOVE to hear him sing “Master, the Tempest is Raging” when he was the bishop of the Myrtle Beach Ward.

The other reason that Sunday was so uplifting is because of the phenomenal growth that the church as experienced there. In the late 1990’s our family was one of the few who began attending the Conway branch. We were small in number but strong in spirit. At that time we met in a modular unit, and then in 2003, we moved into a newly constructed brick and mortar building. In 2006, the branch became a ward, and a couple of years later the growth necessitated an expanded facility. Consequently, the Conway ward met in Myrtle Beach for about a year until this past Sunday.  With the newly expanded church completed, the members met in it for the first time. Knowing about this event ahead of time, I couldn’t resist topping off my weekend trip to the beach by worshipping in this beautiful building with my fellow Saints and friends. Who knows? Maybe that ward will one day become a stake center.

Okay, I’ll add another reason why Sunday’s service was so memorable: the speakers, the music, and the lessons. I’ll expand on some of what I came away with at another time, but for this morning I’ll be content to mention a scripture that’s found both in Isaiah and in the Doctrine and Covenants: “Come now, and let us reason together.” (Isaiah 1:18). The spiritual uplift I got from “reasoning together” with the Conway folks on Sunday is still with me today.

One last thing. I’m writing this from the Johnson City, TN Public Library. DH is playing golf, and I drove to the library to look for information about the area. Earlier this morning, I drove through the campus of ETSU, and I wrote in my journal while sitting in a parking lot there. Overlooking the beautiful mountains and surrounding scenery, I was reminded of something one of  the speakers said Sunday. He mentioned that it seemed to him that when God wants us to see things, he sends us to a high place (think Moses) so that maybe we can see things the way He does.  Interesting thought, huh?