Inhuman or Naturally Human?

The Prisoners Story

I don't know how anyone can say the holocaust did not happen...

The story of this prisoner of war made me pause for a few moments in my hectic life and reflect. Since my mind jumps from point to point, this is where it went. I have no idea why I am sharing, other then I feel I am supposed to.

One particular statement the former prisoner made is: "You see this and you say, 'How inhuman everything was.'". I had one thought when I read that part. I thought about the "natural man". I thought how the Lord has admonished us to put off the 'natural man'. (The natural man is an enemy to God and should be put off, Mosiah 3: 19) What the prisoner said, I think unfortunately, it is not 'inhuman', it is 'naturally human'. I think man, if left to his own machinations without the intervening hand of the Lord will 'naturally' become more 'human'. He will 'naturally' gravitate toward abuse and inflicting pain and suffering upon those around him. Man will 'naturally' revel in the power of superiority he feels and will 'naturally' become more carnate and evil. Unfortunately, 'inhuman' no, 'naturally human' yes. It is where mankind goes without the Lord.

This man I called 'Father'

My dad was a victim of Alzheimers...I often wondered if the things he shared were reality or fantasy. It was like a light switch.......there were times when dad was completely lucid and then the switch would be off and dad had no idea what was going on around him.

When my dad lived with me, we would take trips and on one of those trips we passed the old children's home in Boise. Dad nonchanlantly said 'my brothers and sisters stayed there.' I thought.....does he know where we are and what he is talking about? He went on to say that he and Margaret, his sister just younger than him didn't have to stay because they were older. He really didn't say where they stayed though either. I asked him a few more questions. I asked him what years he stayed. He couldn't remember. I asked why, he said he couldn't remember. Then I decided he must have the Children's Home mixed up with some where else. But for some reason, this far away thought has been invading the very essence of my being......all week, this singular thought has been passing through the deep recesses of my soul. Was it true? Did dad's siblings really stay there? If so, how long? Why would they stay there? How would I find out? Where were my grandparents? What does that say about the way my grandparents raised my father? How did that affect him? Is that why my dad was so kind with his words? Could that be one of the reasons my father never hugged me? Was the pain of being separated from his siblings and parents too great that he didn't want to feel that pain again.......so he was careful about not getting 'too close' to his children or his wife? To answer some of those questions, I contacted the Children's Home in Boise. The culmination of this discourse was the receipt of an email from a worker at the Children's Home. She sent me a document that shows which siblings stayed there and for how long. The document also shows the reason.... My grandfather was a cruel and vicious man. He was selfish and unkind. He left his wife with 6 children to fend for themselves. My grand father was a drinker (I know this because of the contents of his refrigerator). He drank away EVERY dime he ever had. My father, not wanting to be anything like his father went the opposite way. Too unselfish and too kind..... I see my children stuggling with addictions and I wonder.....does this mean it is in our genes? Are we destined to repeat the mistakes of our grand parents? Has my burning desire to not just DO genealogy but to understand my grandparents a pathway to help my children, grand children and great grand children avoid the pitfuls of the past? To be aware that genetically, my (THEIR) history is full of addiction abuse. Families were ripped apart! Lives were destroyed.... My grand father had the gospel...he had wealth...prestige...the love of family...my grand father chose the life he lead. He chose to turn his back on the gospel...wealth...prestige...family...he chose to take that first, second and subsequent drink. He chose to feed his alcohol addiction....he chose to feed the body and not the spirit... His family and subsequently, his grandchildren, great grand children and so on and so forth....are suffering the consequences of those choices....

I pray each and every day that this will be a lesson to my children, grandchildren and so on and so forth...help them understand the dire consequences that follow in the choices they make. Help them to break the cycle of addiction abuse. You are only fooling yourself if you think that just because you have an addiction your children will not. They will...and it will be 10 fold! Help them understand the choices they make will affect those around them. If they chose to follow the path which takes them further from the Lord it will affect them and their children.

Again.......this man I called 'father' was a victim of this cycle. But I could see he tried to always be kind and generous. He was loved by many and I was fortunate enough to see the goodness of his spirit. As the years pass....although he is not here on this earth any more.....I understand him more and more. I feel a kinship and bond with him that is not merely because I was born his daughter......I understand him. I know who he was. I know the love he had for those who are children of our Heavenly Father. My father never said an unkind word or gossiped about any body. He only saw the good in those whom he knew.....whether friend or foe...(although I do not know of any one he would call enemy.) As the time of the anniversary of his death nears.....I reflect on the glorious opportunity I had to have him live with me. To know more and more about the man I called 'father'. I realize I miss him, even the shell he had become. I miss going into the home and seeing him. I miss slipping him a little bit of chocolate....I miss his crystal clear blue eyes. I miss the kindness I felt... It has been 3 years since the time of his passing from this earth....it hurts as much as the day he left.....I miss him.....

Thought for the week.

When life gives you a 100 reasons to cry, show life that you have 1000 reasons to smile. Face your past without regret. Handle your present with confidence. Prepare for the future without fear. Keep the faith and drop the fear.

Ok, that hurt.....

Playing volleyball seems like such an easy safe sport...after all it isn't a contact sport like football, right? Even though it is considered non-contact once in a while contact occurs and usually if I am on the court I will be in the middle of that. Which is precisely what happened last Thusday, October 1st. I was playing volleyball. As I started to lean to my left slightly to prepare to hit the ball coming my way, Frank stepped forward into my path. My left pinky finger hit his shoulder and proceeded to bend back further than should be allowed. I managed to get the ball back over and some idiot hit it right back to me...by then I had grabbed my hand and had put it between my legs. Someone yelled at me to get the ball....I said...I'm not going to be able to get it and then they realized something had happened. They stopped the game. I told them to just give me a few, I will be alright as soon as it quits hurting (which did not happen that night.) George piped up and said, ok, it is time to put away the net. I said, no, we can finish the game. I can still play, I will just have to play with one hand....well stickly little Lynette is going to school to be some sort of nurse and she wouldn't let me go back to playing. So, I sat and watched the rest of the last game...but...dang that hurt!

I had kind of wondered at some point in my life what a broken bone would feel like. It isn't that bad. At the time of the injury my finger broke and realigned, then in less than 24 hours, my finger had gone numb and black and blue. I decided it was probably broken (although when I saw the doc, I told him I didn't think it was. I even bet him a quarter it wasn't.....he told me to give the quarter he won to charity.)

Really it isn't that bad. I have had things happen to me that really made me cry....this wasn't one of them. The recovery is a whole lot more painful than the injury had been.

What an inspiration....

Elizabeth Testifies
The reason she is testifying now is because she is leaving for an LDS mission to Paris. As I was reading about her abduction and what this young woman went through, I was astounded at her desire to serve a mission. It would seem she had already served quite a mission in this life. She is an inspiration. The doors that have opened because of the strength, faith and hope of her and her family are phenomenal!

Such a little thing.........

This story starts as I am on my way to church this morning. I realized as I hit the first light that I had left my new scriptures at home. (I wondered if I had subconscienciously done that.) I thought, heck, I don't like them that well any way....I won't even hardly open them, so I proceeded on to church without them. (I had lost my original scriptures almost a year ago and couldn't hardly bring myself to open the new ones I had bought about a month ago. There was nothing wrong with them, they just didn't feel like mine!)

As I was sitting in Sacrament today and listening to all of the people bearing their testimonies, I thought how cool it is that we have a wide variety of people share the same type of message. It wasn't just one person standing at the pulpit preaching. One lady in particular talked about genealogy and the need to do family history. Then I thought about how I need to start doing that again. (As she was sharing this message, my thoughts kept going back to my poor lost scriptures. I sure wished I had them with me.)

Well any way, I made a promise to myself that I would grab her after Sacrament and discuss getting into family history again. As soon as Sacrament was over, I beelined over towards her and talked to her about it. She said I would need my membership number to access the new family history search online and that I need to talk to the ward clerk to get it. She gave me his name and I promised myself I would talk to him after Sunday School.

As life would go, SS was all about prayer and how if you pray sincerely the Lord will answer your prayers...again the thought crossed my mind...(I have been praying to find my scriptures for almost a year and I still haven't found them. How sincere do I need to be!?) So......after SS I went to the clerk's office.....he was not there. I thought, ok, another time.

Again I get sidetracked. A friend of mine came up to me and asked if I still had her bats in my car....of course I did. Could she get them now, she had to leave to attend church with her bf. I thought, well, ok, I could meet with the ward clerk another time. Sacrament for the other ward had already started so I couldn't sneak through the chapel to go to my car. I would have to go the long way and exit the back door. As I am heading to the back door, I run into the guy I think is the ward clerk. I ask him if he is. He says he is. I ask him if I could possibly get my membership number.(I am thinking I could still get it another time, but oh no......he has other ideas.)

He says 'sure, follow me.' I turn around to follow him and there is a cart against the wall.......I glance at it and there staring me in the face are my LONG LOST SCRIPTURES!! I couldn't believe my eyes! I grabbed my scriptures.....and still in step with the ward clerk follow him to his office which is at the opposite side of the building. About half way to the other end, I just start crying! I get to the office and the tears really start pouring.....I apologize to the clerk...and tell him repeatedly through wet soggy eyes! 'I can't believe it! These are my scriptures! I have been looking for them for almost a year! I am just so happy! Oh and by the way.....I don't need to get my membership number from you now because they are in my scriptures! Oh and by the way....(I tell him my name, so he knows who the sap is standing in his office raining her tears of joy on him.) Well, he gives me my paper since he already printed it and says......'it is good to see someone is so happy about having their scriptures'....such a little thing...but to me irreplaceable.

My Turn? This or That?

Now what? My youngest just turned 19 yesterday. It is the last year he will be a teenager.......it is also the last year I will have a teenager I can call mine. (Although he doesn't like that idea.) When my kids were growing up, I used to say... when they get older and I have more time, I will do this or that. Well, here I am it is time for this or that.....but dang if I can remember what this or that was. It all seemed so important when they were young. Boy! If I had the time I would do this or that! Now I have the time....(kind of) and I don't know for sure what I should do with it. Do I bring out the paints and start painting again? What about genealogy, I really should pick that up again... and how about the piano and guitar...I really want to learn both of those instruments. Then there is photography, I am inspired by the photos Katie, Boo and Amanda take, do I pursue that? How about my weight? I no longer have the excuse that I don't have time or don't feel like dragging around the little munchkins. I have a dream of building a home with my own two hands. What about my education? How far do I go? Then there is softball and volleyball, am I getting too old to play those yet? I can still run the bases and set a volleyball. Do I continue playing until I can not physically do them any more and then pursue the other non-physical items on my list? This and that sure did creep up on me, now what?