Walking in the footsteps of Jesus

A long time ago in a place far, far away I was asked to participate in a young woman’s program called ’Walking in the Footsteps of Jesus’. I had heard of this activity and it was always spoken of in reverence and awe. The idea was that the leaders would get 10 or so people and give them an assignment to portray a person who had crossed paths with the Savior whale he was on this earth. Those assigned would then portray that person acting as if, in fact they, themselves had met and talked with Christ. For example the blind man that was healed outside the gate, or the woman at the well. I was asked to portray Nephi from 3^rd Nephi one of the twelve that was called in the Book of Mormon to be his Disciples.

No script was provided but rather we were instructed to prayerfully search the scriptures and come up with a 5 min testimony for our assigned person, (Nephi) then give that testimony in the first person.

I am a welder not a thespian! These young ladies were counting on an awesome spiritual experience. Well I’m just me that’s all and that’s all I can give them. I did however want to give them the best I could. So I began early, not like usual putting it off till the hours before and throwing something together. I had heard these young ladies bear their testimonies after the last time and they had all been lifted up by this experience and I didn’t want to be the cause of it falling short this time. So I started reading that part of the Book of Mormon over and over until I about had this meeting of Nephi and the Savior memorized. Still feeling like I needed more “prepping” I read ‘Tennis shoes and the feathered Serpent’ well at least the parts about the coming of Christ to the Americas.

I prayerfully began to write my 5 min presentation all the while wanting, and hoping that on the night of the activity, Nephi would (somehow) be there to testify first hand in his own words, that he had indeed talked with Christ. I even made it a subject of all of my prayers. I did come up with a good testimony taken from the scriptures and I personally had received a testimony of Nephi’s experiences with Christ but still wanted the girls to really feel Nephi’s own, real, true testimony.

The day came and I was fasting, so sure that “I” would get in the way of this awesome message that Nephi would want these girls to know. I got there early and changed into my “Nephi Clothes”. My younger brother had served his mission in the Philippines and had brought home a really cool boar tooth necklace and a manly robe/moo-moo thing that looked appropriate. Finishing it off with some Doc Marten sandals, the outfit looked pretty good I must say. I hoped that Nephi was not too upset that they had picked a pleasantly plump welder to play his part. They put me in a room with 10 or 15 chairs set up in a semi circle facing me. I then knelt down in the corner and asked that this room might be blessed and sanctified so that the spirit could dwell there that evening, and testify to all comers of the truthfulness of Nephi’s testimony. Then added one last time my final plea that Nephi himself might be there and somehow do this for me. I just didn’t want to mess this up, for the girls or Nephi. I felt peace and received a promise that if anyone hearing my voice that night would pray about it and ask Father, they would in fact receive the same witness I had received as to the truthfulness of these things I quickly added that same promise to the end of my prepared testimony.

I felt I had done all in my power to be ready. “Will I remember what I had written? Is this what Nephi would want to say if he were here? Will the spirit testify to these people of the truth?” (O Ye of little faith) I kept saying over and over in my mind. You see as I had prepared for this night, I had come to know and now bear my testimony of the fact that, Nephi of 3^rd Nephi had seen and spoke with the Savior, had felt the nail prints in his hands and thrust his hand into the Saviors side and that he was then and is now a witness of the Savior Jesus the Christ. I wanted everyone that could hear my voice to know the same, and I did not want to diminish that or take away from that message in the least degree.

 Soon the first group arrived. I was so nervous. I poured my heart out in prayer right up to the very instant I opened my mouth to speak. Instantly as I spoke, warmth, love, peace, confidence and power flooded over me as I bore testimony of the Savior. Tears flowed as I recounted the testimony I had prepared from the scriptures. I thought for a second “Is this testimony I am giving, ok with Nephi?” a thought echoed back “Where did you get the words for this testimony?”

“From the pages of the Book of Mormon.” I responded “Who do you think wrote those words?”

Thinking for a half second I sheepishly said “Nephi?” “That is right. These words you are giving are in fact his very testimony and ’yes’ he is pleased.”

Now of course to all of you that makes sense, but to me I guess, I had never really made the connection until then, that real people with real lives and real experiences had taken their turns writing this book and those words were in fact his. That it wasn’t just a story book. I mean I knew, but in my childlike mind I didn’t KNOW, if that makes any sense.

As the night went on I basked in the glow of the spirit, completely comfortable and confident. Until about the 7^th or 8^th group came in and sat down. As I began I did not feel the spirit there as a matter of fact, I felt it leave. I was struggling to find the words that had flowed so freely all night, I was now very nervous and started to sweat. I began praying in my panic, “Why have you left me? What did I do? I must have done something wrong, please forgive me. Please come back I need you and cannot do this without you!”

My attention was brought to two young ladies sitting at the end of the row and I knew that the spirit had to leave when they came in. As I spoke I pleaded with the lord to let the spirit come back. He could not. I guess it’s kind of like light and darkness; they both can’t be in the same place at the same time.

Now I would just like to say that I did not know these young ladies and can’t remember anything about them, nor did I care what these young ladies had done, or whether it was big or small. They did not look “bad” or out of place, just same-ol normal beautiful young woman in the Church of Jesus Christ. I felt nothing but love and concern for them and the rest of the group.  I just knew that one of these groups of about 10 young ladies were being deprived the same spiritual experience as the rest of the groups. They couldn’t feel the same witness as everyone else. I wanted them to hastily repent and return to the light.

After the night was over I talked to one of the other presenters and asked if she had noticed any differences in the groups. She said that there was one group that she didn’t feel the spirit. This made me think of how the adversary whispers in our ears that “No one will know.” Or “It doesn't hurt anyone else so what does it matter.” Along with a million other lies he uses to persuade us. But from this experience we can see that the things we do in secret do affect others and in fact, can’t remain hidden. That thought also brought me to the awareness the opposite is true as well. When we are doing what we should and have the light of Christ with us, others benefit in this same way.

After this night was over, and from then on whenever we look up a scripture or quote a verse in 3^rd Nephi I always say “That’s my Nephi”. You see I have come to know him personally through this experience and he now feels like an old friend that I have spent afternoons with or sat with and shared dinner or maybe a story or two. My heart is warmed every time I read his words and I feel again that same burning of the truthfulness of his words that I was so blessed to share in for a brief second.

This very joy that comes to me at the very mention of his name also strangely condemns me as I read the words of other prophets. Now I know the secret, well ok it’s no secret. We can and should come to know each and every author of scripture in the same way and depth that I have been so fortunate to do with “My Nephi”. Can you imagine if we would take the time to get to know, to study their words and learn for ourselves their testimonies?

Wouldn’t that just be grand!!!  J

Talk is Cheap.

There was a time in my life when the responsibilities of this world overwhelmed me and I no longer felt that I could stand and fight. My oldest son was about 9, our family had just moved to Cheyenne WY, and a company I was a partner in had close its doors leaving me with a 1/3^rd share of the company’s debt. During that time I went to the Lord and asked for help with everything I had on my plate. I could not cover everything that needed to be covered and despite all I could do I could see no way out. My mother had always told me that ‘the Lord helps those that help themselves’, and that is how I had always expected it to work. But this was different. I couldn’t plan, think, talk or work my way out of this. No matter how you added it up I came up short by a long way every time. Thus I could not “help myself” in my eyes. This would require a miracle. My mother also had told me about turning things over to the Lord. So I thought I’d give that a try. In my mind I couldn’t “really” see how God who is over all things in the great expanse of time and matter had time for me - but I went on anyway. I asked for Him to help me where I couldn’t help myself. As time went by I saw that things would “fall into place” or just plain happen that couldn’t be explained away. Time and time again it was an irrefutable answer in a miraculous way to (what must have been to Him) my little insignificant problems and little insignificant prayers. It was in fact a direct “miracle” answer to my prayer. This blew me away!!! Who knew that Father would hear and answer my prayers in such a direct and amazing way? Not amazing like flooding the earth, but amazing like all I did was ask? And who am I that he should know me? Or care enough about me to help me where I could not help myself? And to do it with no fanfare, just simply be there for me, for us. I felt as though I was humbled to the dust. Amazed that he would even know me… care for me… That he would act for me… That he would save me.

During this time of my life I was so grateful for all that he had done for me that I would pray on my knees by our couch in the early morning before anyone else was awake, before I would go to work. Sometimes I would be carried away in my gratitude for so long I would be late for work. One morning as the morning sun started to shine through the window and warm the house, I knelt to pray. In my soul singing praises and glorifying my Father as loudly (in my heart) as I could, it was as if the birds were chirping and the earth was singing with me, I was completely enraptured in my thanksgiving when a thought slammed into my head stopping my train of thoughts, forming words and those words were rolling in my mind as a loud thunderous echo, “Talk is Cheap!” I heard these words over and over, that thought stopped me mid sentence could not finish my prayer. It instantly burned in my soul and impacted every part of me. I felt that I had been scolded or reprimanded. I pushed up from the spot where I had been kneeling, and stood looking up. I pointed my finger heavenward feeling insulted. I was embarrassed and angry and said out loud with grit teeth “Are you saying that I? Me? Brent Case? is “All talk”.” I guess looking back I half expected an answer right there. It dawned on me that I already knew the answer. I had been called out. I lowered my finger, slowly gathered my things, and went to work without another word.

This bothered me so badly I did not return to prayer for over a week while I tried to figure this out. There was a kind of turmoil or wrestling match in my head that just kept boiling, and I couldn’t find rest. I would just review the still pounding impression “Talk is Cheap” over and over. At first it made me mad, and then it made me sad. The kind of sad that’s like a dark and rainy day, not a cold rain, just saturating wet and relentlessly falling on you wherever you go. With all of my soul I really was thankful and I wanted Him to not just know it, but to never doubt it. I was so sad that I hadn't shown Him how thankful I was.

What dose “Talk is Cheap.” mean? To me is means for example that anyone can say they are your friend but then turn right around and stab you in the back. You can say you’re a good cook but how does your food taste? I say I love you or respect you but how do I treat you? Actions are an outward expression of our inner commitment to how we really feel. Our true feelings are shown everyday by the way we act and they are always stronger than any words that come out of our mouth. My wife says “When someone shows you who they are, believe them.”

“Well” I’d tell myself “if talk is cheap he must want or need something else from me. What could my Heavenly Father, the creator of “everything” need from me? What can I, an Idaho farm boy, offer the God of everything? Everything I am everything I have He has given me. I became painfully aware that even the very breath I breathed was a gift from my loving Father.” It is true; I cannot even draw my own breath unless he gives me the power to do so. I would ask myself over and over, “Do I have anything He would want? Can I give anything he needs?” My mind churned day and night and there was no rest from these unyielding thoughts.

“What if I did something extra, like something really nice, something I wouldn’t normally do?” Would that surprise him? Then would he see that through my actions I am grateful? No! He knows I can’t surprise him. He knows everything. Even if I did, he would just bless me even more and in my head my ‘score card’ would show an even bigger deficit with me falling further and further behind. Brent 1/ God 1000000 How can I catch up? Can I ever get ahead? If I could, then he would know I was thankful.”

“It would have to be something he wouldn’t expect me to do. Something I haven’t done before, like what?” I would think.

He knows me too well; he knows my thoughts before I even think them. I’d guess I can never surprise him.

 That was my idea you see to surprise him with a gift of kindness or act of service to someone in need. But then I realized “I can’t do something for him that he can’t already do for himself.” So what then? What do you give to God? He has everything he needs.

I erred in my thoughts you see. Everything I could think of came from a place of pride within myself. I wanted to do… I wanted to fix it… I wanted to tell him how I would do it. “I” “I” “I”

Finally beaten by my lack of understanding and creativity and my inability to solve yet another problem on my own. The problem of how to repay my Heavenly Father, who had done so much for me and me unable to offer him anything in return. He had always come to my aide so readily, and so willing to help me, support and love me.

I was beaten, completely aware of everything I was lacking, and my inability to give back even the smallest token of thanks to the One I owed so much to. I finally a week or so later returned to that same spot by the couch in the early morning light to kneel in prayer, completely beaten and embarrassed by the fact that I couldn’t come up with anything to give Him in return. Now with tears in my eyes I begin my prayer. “Father I have nothing to give. But I am so thankful for thee and all thou hast done. I have tried to think of what I could give thee, or what I could do for thee and have again fallen short, and I come before you completely lacking. If thou would ask for something, I would give it.” I felt the warmth of his love start to fill me, like a warm breeze down the back of my cold neck. The kind of breeze that warms you up after standing out in the cold for so long. Slowly the thought filled my mind “If you would just come to my house to worship once a week, to be with me and my people, to learn of me and learn of my gospel. Then I would know that you are thankful” I felt his love for me filling me to full and then to overflowing, almost more than I could bare, but only in a good way, like you couldn’t feel one more ounce of love or you’d burst or like you have already burst and its ok.

(You see up till now I had stayed a comfortable distance from church, only going about twice a month. That was enough for me to say I was going but not enough to get and hold a calling or assignment or to feel obligated to participate.  I felt like church was for hypocrites. You know sinners just like me but feeling like they were better just because they would show up to church once a week and act like they weren’t the same as me. You see in my mind I was different because I knew I was a sinner and didn’t feel like I was trying to be anything I wasn’t. But to me, “in my mind” somehow the way I did it and the way they did it was different. I was real and they were somehow fake. So I told the Lord in my prayer that I was sure He didn’t want me to go there and hang out with those hypocrites. The feeling came again “If you would just come to my house to worship once a week, to be with me and my people, to learn of me and learn of my gospel. Then I would know that you are thankful” Well okay? If that’s what you want, then that’s what I’ll give.

I committed that I would go every Sunday so that He would know I was thankful, so every week in the beginning of the time following this. I would walk up to the doors of the chapel, look heavenward and in my mind say “do you see how thankful I am? I’m going to church. That is how thankful I am!” He would always answer with a “Thank you” and I would have a warm feeling. (I am always grateful for my Father’s love and patience with me as I learn, even when I am prideful.) A funny thing happened as I went week after week. I started to see my fellow worshipers in a different light. I saw they really were for the most part just like me. Just people trying their hardest to make it through life, falling often but willing to get up and try again, very aware of their own shortcomings. As time went on I even like being there, and loved to give service by participating in church duties. I like to show up help and be a part of what was planned. I was learning that “when we are in the service of our fellow men we are in the service of our God. And sure enough, the more I did the more I was blessed. I learned if we are willing to just “show up” Father is willing to use us. To serve in the church the main requirement is just showing up, He will enable us to do the rest. I also learned that one of the blessings that came from this experience was that from time to time there would arise strife in the congregation or ward. This did not seem to affect me; I didn’t care if someone was a trouble maker, a gossiper, a back biter, a crook or just hard to get along with. That’s not why I was there, I was there simply to tell my Father “thank you” and everything else became irrelevant. 

When we go to Father in prayer I have found out that it is best not to go with a list of things we are willing to do for Him but rather to go with a blank piece of paper and allow Him to fill it in. He has already told us what he expects from us. Doctrine and Covenants 59: 8 Thou shalt offer a sacrifice unto the Lord thy God in righteousness, even that of a broken heart and a contrite spirit.

After His Resurrection, Jesus Christ declared to the people in the New World:

“Your sacrifices and your burnt offerings shall be done away, for I will accept none of [them]. …

“And ye shall offer for a sacrifice unto me a broken heart and a contrite spirit. And whoso cometh unto me with a broken heart … , him will I baptize with fire and with the Holy Ghost” (3 Nephi 9:19–20). The Savior’s perfect submission to the Eternal Father is the very essence of a broken heart and a contrite spirit. Christ’s example teaches us that a broken heart is an eternal attribute of godliness. When our hearts are broken, we are completely open to the Spirit of God and recognize our dependence on Him for all that we have and all that we are. The sacrifice so entailed is a sacrifice of pride in all its forms. Like malleable clay in the hands of a skilled potter, the brokenhearted can be molded and shaped in the hands of the Master.

A great talk to listen to is here(click)

Happy 75th Birthday Dad!!!

I would like to share 3 important things that my dad taught me.

1.     Hard Work

My Dad just loves to work. If you know him, you know what I’m talking about. Well, honestly I don’t know that he loves it all the time, but he does it regardless of love, or praise. He does it just kuz it needs to be done.

When I was young he worked at a full time job, that he had to drive 2 ½ hours to then he’d come home and run our 600 acre farm. There was always work for us to do. The work never ended and we were always behind. Whenever we would finish one thing there were always ten more jobs waiting to be done. 

I remember on several Saturday mornings he would wake Bryan and me around 4:30 a.m. and our day of work would begin. When he woke us up that early sometimes we would complain about how early it was. He would inform us that he let us sleep in, and that he had started working at 3:30 a.m.. We would come back in the house about 8 and make a big breakfast for the family. I’d eat till I thought I’d burst then turn around and get back to work.  

In my youth, every Saturday for as long as I can remember, I worked with my dad. There was never a need to hire someone out to do the work - no matter what it was- Dad could always find a way or figure out how we could do it ourselves. (He is the original MacGyver.) I remember one Saturday replacing the cracked head on the old Case tractor as we listened to conference on AM radio. The talks would fade in and out of static as we worked. That task to me seemed impossible but we did it, and it worked. 

Most men would hire out a backhoe when the cesspool needed to be cleaned out. It was very nasty, full and deep. Why do that when you have rubber boots, 2 boys and 5 gal buckets? Yep that’s right we bucketed out that cesspool - 5 gallons at a time. I will never forget the feeling of the ooze running down my arm, under my armpit and into my shirt as I stood with a bucket full of unspeakable sludge lifted high over my head waiting for Bryan to reach down and take it to be dumped. 

All these memories bring me to lesson #2

2.     I Can Do It

Whenever I tried doing something that I didn't know how to do, my Dad would tell me “Think about it, step back and analyze it in your mind.  Take it one step at a time and be curious”. He lives by this statement and now so do I. To this day if I don’t know how to do something I learn how. I read about it, I find people that can teach me, I watch YouTube videos. And then I try. This lesson never made me an expert - really- at anything but it did show me that I could do what needs to be done. Above that, however, he knows his kids can do hard things. He doesn't “believe” we can do it. He simply knows we can, and that knowledge of his pushes us on as we have faith in his determination that we can do it.  

3.     Who God Is

The most important thing my Dad ever taught me was who God is, and how a man of God honors him. I believe that on that “Great and Terrible Day of Judgment” when we stand before God He will be more concerned with how far we traveled on our path toward Him rather than how far up the social, economic, or even the religious ladder we have climbed. It won’t be so much the dollars we gave or the positions we held that will be of any true worth. I believe that the length of our travel will be representative of how hard we have sought the Lord out in this life. If this is so, then, my Dad is a master traveler on this path I have referred to. 

He taught me this principle as I watched how he grew in his testimony and his constant desire for betterment of self. How he always made sure our family was taken care of. How he taught me about prayer, how he prayed for me, and how he prayed with me. He made me work with my hands and showed me that I could do anything that I put my mind to. He lived the word of God as best he could on a daily basis. He taught me how to meekly seek forgiveness when I mess up or when I go astray. He showed me who God is by his actions. He loves Heavenly Father.  He loves His teachings, his scriptures and he loves His prophets.  He showed me daily by his example, he loves God right in front of my eyes.

Happy 75^th Birthday Dad, I love you.

Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6

I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents, therefore I was taught somewhat in all the learning of my father; and having seen many afflictions in the course of my days, nevertheless, having been highly favored of the Lord in all my days; yea, having had a great knowledge of the goodness and the mysteries of God, therefore I make a record of my proceedings in my days.

(Book of Mormon | 1 Nephi 1:1)

 10-23-14

Baptism

I attended a baptism this weekend where the question was asked, If we remembered our baptismal day.

As I pondered I thought, I don’t remember much from that day, but I do have a lot of memories surrounding baptisms and I was impressed to share those memories with you.

1. My baptism day, the only real memory of that day is after the baptism was over, we loaded up in our family’s station wagon at the Wilson UT church house, and as we were leaving mom started to talk to me with a big smile brimming with excitement. She said something like, “How does it feel to be washed clean from all your sins?”
   Well it felt great! kuz I had a load of sins to get rid of. Then she went on to question me about something that had happened the previous day when Cory Huckabay and I were out playing. The two of us were always in trouble and that day was no exception. I don’t remember the particulars about what had gone on but I do remember that I had already told a lie to keep from getting in trouble. So when mom asked me about the events of that day, I knew I had a choice. I remember thinking about that choice as mom waited for my answer. Weighing it out in my mind, my new status of being clean verses the whippin I would surly get for, 1. Misbehaving and 2. Lying about it the first time I was asked. I looked down at the floorboard of our car, and chose to lie again to cover-up my misadventures from the previous day and conceal the lie I had already told. Just as the last word of that horrible lie fell from my lips, the car hit the curb as we left the parking lot of the church. I was completely defeated. I couldn’t even make it out of the church parking lot without messing things up. I was beaten by life before I could even get started it seemed to my 8yr old mind. What’s the point in even trying? Over the next couple of days this weighed heavy on my mind…
2. My next baptismal memory was of my little brother Darrin’s baptismal day. It was during the summer and I was 17 years old and working at Downata Hot Springs in Downey Idaho as a life guard.  (BEST job for a young man ever) Mom asked Darrin if he would let one of his older brothers baptize him, she thought it would be neat, “big brother baptizing little brother.” When she would leave I would tease him relentlessly because he was deathly afraid of going under the water for very long and of sharks. I would tell him that if I did it I would hold him under as I said the prayer, and I assured him that I would talk very slowly thus holding him under for as long as possible. For some strange reason, he opted to have Bryan, our older brother, do the honors.

I loved my job and my friends and I didn’t want to give up either to take time out of my schedule to go to Darrin’s baptism. I love my little brother and everything but, Saturday nights were the busiest nights of the week. There were sure to be lots of new girls to meet, friends and coworkers to hangout with. I begged mom to let me skip the baptism as I was scheduled to work. I did have great bosses, and there would be no problem with them letting me off at that time, but I just wanted to be there “in the mix” not at a church. I begged, then whined, then threw a “2 year old like fit” but I couldn’t get out of it. So under protest I went vowing to myself that if I had to be miserable so did everyone else. I pouted the whole time, squirming in my seat because it was uncomfortable as I felt the spirit trying to testify and bring peace to me. It seemed as though I did everything I could do to push the sprit away ensuring that I maintained my agony. I was miserable and wanted to be miserable and no one or nothing could change that. Finally after it was over mom told me I could just leave. She was disappointed with my behavior but I got to go be with my friends and I was happy about that. Mom confided to me later that I brought with me that night a darkness to the baptism…

1. My next baptismal memory was of my little sister Jennifer’s baptism in Cheyenne WY. By now I was 22 and married. I think I was enrolled in the Wyoming Law Enforcement Academy going through to become a Jailer for Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department in Kemmerer WY and my little family was staying with Mom and Dad, as their house was close to the training center I was attending.
   What I remember most was as I prepared to perform the ordinance in the dressing room. I was moved upon by the spirit like I had never been before in my life. It filled me to the brim and overflowing. It overwhelmed me to the point I couldn’t stand. I just sat there weeping, or rather wailing uncontrollably. I hadn’t been doing anything necessarily bad but hadn’t been doing any good either, just sitting on the fence watching life go by. I felt so deeply, so fully, that I needed to be actively engaged in good work. I felt both love and condemnation at the same time it seemed.  There was good work I needed to be doing, and there wasn’t any time for “time wasting.” When the time came to go to the fount I cleaned up the best I could and baptized her choking back the tears the whole time…

As I reflect on these three stories, I at first just see only my failures as a boy, teenager, father and husband. I wondered why I was prompted during that baptism to write these stories down. Was it just to catalog my failures? To prove to the world that I fall short oh-so often? So today as I was driving I asked “Father why is it, that I should tell these stories?” I felt as though I need to look a little deeper. As I drove and pondered, I came to this conclusion. These stories aren't about my failure- they are about my Father in Heaven’s love for me. In the first story as a boy, I learned very quickly, even before I left the parking lot, that I need Christ and his redeeming Atonement, multiple times daily and that it was there and ready for me to use and take full advantage of. I learned quickly of the importance of renewing my covenants with the Lord on the Sabbath as I partake of the sacrament. This has been a comfort and a saving grace to me throughout my life.

In the second story I found out that like it or not, we bring with us a spirit in all that we do. Which spirit we bring, depends on our attitude. We have the power to choose which side will be traveling with us, based on our attitude. Whatever we decide it affects those around us for good or bad. I also realized that Heavenly Father is always reaching out for me calling me back to the presence of the spirit and the peace that comes with that. As a young man I had a testimony that life was always better when I had His spirit with me. I always felt that was a little odd because I found myself evaluating my level of happiness, and if I wasn’t as happy as I wanted, I knew I better shape up and fly right and get straight with the Lord.

In the third story as I thought back on this time I can still feel his loving arm around me (and it still bring tears as I remember) when I was given a spiritual tongue lashing about being a fence sitter or being content to do little or nothing in the service of the Lord. He needs followers that are actively engaged in good works!

My Happiest Memories of Baptisms

The opportunity to participate and witness your children’s baptisms is without a doubt some of my happiest memories.  

Shawn was my first and I was so nervous and proud. I guess mostly with him I remember confirming him and feeling the power and inspiration that cut through the nerves of this young father and how I love to administer priesthood blessings to my children.

I didn’t baptize Shane because my father in law (I loved him) had just became a member of the church and had never had the chance to baptize any of his own children. So we talked with Shane and we all thought it would be great if grandpa baptized him. It was so touching to see Grandpa Bowers and Shane there in the water dressed in white. Some said John would never join the church. Heaven knows he had had a lot of chances to join, and when the subject came up he would just laugh or make a joke about them crazy Mormons with a twinkle in his eye. All that made it even sweeter to see him moved by the spirit as he preformed this ordinance for the first time. I then had the privilege to confirm Shane.

Cody loved Uncle Bryan and his family so he asked Bryan to baptize him. Man, when all those Case boys get together you just knew there were going to be stories to tell, wounds to heal and quite possibly explosions. I remember most Cody smiling big all day long it was like he was GLOWING. He just was so happy, beaming all day, and nobody has a smile like My Cody! NOBODY! It was also my privilege to confirm him a member of the church.

Kyli wanted to be baptized in the river in Star Valley Wyoming just like so many of her cousins and ancestors had ben before her. Grandma and grandpa Case were in the Provo UT MTC preparing to go to Ethiopia on a mission but received special permission to leave long enough to come to her baptism. It was the beginning of October and the water was soooo cold her dress came up on the first try and I had to perform the baptism a second time. She started to cry as we began the ordinance again, so I went as quickly as I could to get it done and get her out. This time I went down in with her almost all the way just to make sure it was done right and it wouldn’t have to be repeated. Then I immediately lifted her out of the water and onto the bridge where her mom wrapped her in a warm quilt. I confirmed her right there on that bridge.

I bear my testimony that God loves me and you.

In the name of Jesus Christ Amen

Downhill toward Disaster

 

07/10/90

Published in the Ensign September 1999

I had been working the last five weeks for my brother-in-law Teryl (what a great guy) who had just purchased a share in a logging company. We were logging up the Monte Cristo canyon just east of Ogden UT on the Wyoming border. I would help him on my days off from the Lincoln County Sheriff’s Office in Kemmerer WY.  This particular morning as I woke up early to go, my wife was even more persistent this morning that I not go.  She had an uneasy feeling and was worried about me. It just didn’t feel right she said. Later she had told me that after I had left she even prayed that I would get into a wreck or have car troubles, anything to prevent me from getting to the logging camp. I thought it was just because she was pregnant with our second son Shane and it was the first weekend she wasn’t going to come with me and spend the weekend at the logging camp.  Little did I know it was promptings to keep me safe. 

The long early, just before the crack of dawn drive up the canyon was beautiful but uneventful. I always love the world in the morning before everyone else gets up and moving. As soon as I got up to the logging camp I knew it was going to be a bad day.  When I got to the logging camp and opened my camper, I found that a raccoon had broken in and had eaten all my Cap’n Crunch and my Oreos. That was breakfast lunch and dinner all gone.  The work day started out as usual but went downhill fast.  Our equipment was old and we seemed to be plagued with small inconveniences and break downs.

Before I continue I need to explain how this logging operation works.  We were doing what’s called ‘highline logging’.  This is done when the mountain is too steep for any kind of equipment to go up or down.  The way we logged on this steep terrain was to string a heavy ¾ cable from a derrick on top of the mountain to a ‘spar’ tree (just a really big tree) in the bottom of the valley.  The main cable hangs 20 to 50 feet over the surface of the steep hill.  A second cable rides down the main line on a block with a series of pullies.  When the block hits what’s called a button or donut it stops and releases the second cable sending it down to the ground.  The 2^nd cable is then hooked to 3 or 4 logs.  The logs are then pulled or flown up to the “deck”, a level area where the equipment can work.  We can only get so many logs in one area on the hill until the button must be moved down the cable.  The button is essentially a large steel piece that weighed about 60lbs it locks on the main cable and prevents the block from going further down the cable.

Now back to the story.  As I said, we had had many breakdowns. One, of which, was our radios that we used to communicate to the guy running the cables, so we were using hand signals to communicate which was slow and inadequate at best.  This day I worked down in the brush hooking up the trees on the steep mountain side. We had cleaned up all the logs in that area and it was time for us to move the button to a new area full of lumber. We signaled for the main cable to be lowered and the main cable with the button was brought down within my reach, but still over my head. Usually I would have it lowered to the ground so it could be handed better and kept under control. But because of the difficulty communicating I decided to go ahead and unlock the button anyway. I walked the button downhill until I was standing on a very steep embankment that dropped off making it almost like a cliff. The weight of the button tried pulling me down the hill.  It took all my strength and body weight but I was able to keep it under control. I had my heals dug in to the soft mountain soil and I was leaning back into the mountain to prevent it from running away with me. I tried to tell them to lower the cable more but about that time the wind gusted causing the main line to whip, it was like a wave that picked me up and carried me off my feet and down the very steep hill faster and faster like some kind of out of control adrenalin filled high adventure zip line.

I was now heading down towards the spar tree at a break neck speed.  I looked for a place to jump off but I was already high in the air and all I could see were piles of limbs laying kriss-kross and sticking straight up. As I was flying by it looked as if all of the limbs had been sharpened to a point. I could just imagine one of them going right through my gut if I tried to jump off. Not knowing, or really thinking of what lay ahead I decided not to jump for fear of being gored. Anyway so far the ride was kinda fun, I remember chuckling to myself about this predicament had gotten myself into, kind of rolling my eyes thinking, well how are you going to get yourself out of this one? At the very beginning of this ride I even had to lift my feet to avoid some limbs, “WHY DIDN’T I LET GO THEN” I thought. Now I had a bird’s eye view of the whole canyon and I was blissfully unaware of how fast I was going or how this ride was about to end. When I looked up I saw that I was racing toward the spar tree.  I was about 50 feet off the ground and moving fast, the witnesses said about thirty to thirty-five miles an hour.  I did not have any time to think.

The spar tree was about eight feet in diameter at the bottom and about 3 feet in diameter where the cable was hooked to it. There was one large limb sticking out at one side that caught my attention.  I thought that maybe if I swung out to the side of the tree just before impact and wrapped myself around this limb it would save me from falling. I centrally didn’t want to just ride it to a head-on with the tree. I let go of the chain that was hooked to the button with one hand and prepared to hit/catch/wrap myself around the limb.  When I hit the first thing I saw was my feet, I hit so hard it caused a bruise across my chest, popped my ribs out of socket where they attach to my back and a bruised my heart, it also dislocated my arm my momentum flipped me upside down, wrapping me completely around the limb.  Then everything went black.  There were flashes of consciousness as I tumbled down the tree ping ponging through the limbs. I remember seeing my heard hat sailing like a Frisbee or a space ship across the canyon. I also remember hitting different limbs as I fell. I hit the ground sitting up with my legs straight out then bounced one last time about 60ft down the hill finally going unconscious. When I awoke I was laying face down in the dirt on my stomach unable to breath, with a mouth full of dirt. For a minute I couldn’t remember who I was or what had happened.  I heard a faint voice asking me if I was all right.  I felt like I could not breathe, so I asked to be rolled over.  The pain was so great that I blacked out again.

When I came to I was laying on my back in the middle of an old logging road about 20 feet from the tree.  I had no feeling from my hips down, cuts all over and was still having trouble breathing.  I said a simple prayer and asked the Lord to help me.  I opened my eyes and there was Ethan Call.  It was his first day with the logging crew.  I remembered my wife telling me that he had served a mission.  Up to that day I was the only priesthood holder on the crew. Relieved and realized Father had heard my prayer. I asked him to give me a blessing.

As he began, immediately a sense of calm came over Teryl, Ethan and me.  I had been unconscious for most of the blessing, but I did hear him bless me that my body would be made whole.  As I laid there I began to feel again the sensation in my legs and the pain became bearable.  The Holy Ghost bore witness to us that God had performed a miracle and we were each left with a testimony of what had just happened.

It became apparent that it was going to be a long time before medical help arrived.  Teryl told me that Rick Earling had already started down the mountain to get help.  I knew it was a two hour drive out of the canyon to the nearest phone.  I closed my eyes and said another simple prayer and asked for the Lords help again to speed up the help I so desperately needed.  My prayer was again answered in a miraculous way.  As Rick was speeding down the canyon he happened to run across a paramedic who was out for an afternoon drive. (this was a Thursday at 10:00am) The paramedic had a high power radio that he was able to reach across the mountains to the Weber County Sheriff’s Department.  They in turn were able to call McKay Dee Hospital and get Life Flight on its way.   The paramedic then rushed up the mountain to where I was laying, he started an IV and stopped all my bleeding.  God had again answered my prayer.  I was able to get the medical help and the transportation I needed within a fraction of the time we were expecting.

The helicopter was now circling overhead but after a few passes they radioed down that the only place they could land was a flat spot about half a mile up this old logging road.  When I heard this my blood chilled!  I looked to my side to see an old jacked-up Ford 4x4 on the heavily rutted road. The thought of a ride in the back of a four wheel drive truck over a rutted, dirt road was more than I could bear.  I again simply asked the Lord for help.

The helicopter circled one last time and radioed down they had decided to try to land closer.  They were able to land within 50 feet of where I was laying by balancing the helicopter with the tips of their runners on the road and the back half of the chopper hovering off the road.  Within 15 minutes I arrived at McKay Dee Hospital’s emergency room.  They started another IV, put a tube down my nose into my stomach and also started me on oxygen.  They pumped blood out of my stomach for three hours. 

I had four doctors and two specialist working on me for six hours.  They X-rayed me from the top of my head to my knees and were unable to find any broken bones.  This baffled all of them.  They stated many times that there was no possible way a body could have received that many blows, as I was flipped from branch to branch as I fell down the tree without having some broken bones or internal injuries.  I was given a cat-scan from my neck to my knees – scanned a half of an inch at a time.  This took about one hour.  Baffled again because they found nothing.  They were not even able to find out what had caused the bleeding in my stomach.

My brother Bryan was the first one to get to the emergency room and was there when they got me settled into a room in intensive care.

The doctors told me I had caused enough trauma to my body that I wouldn’t walk for a couple of weeks.  That night I asked Bryan to give me a blessing.  He did and then left.  On his way home he was unable to ignore the promptings to gather up another elder and return to give me an anointed blessing.  During the blessing the Holy Ghost again bore witness to me that I would be all right. I was filled with the confidence that I would be able to walk the next day…which I did!

I am thankful for the blessings I was given by those men who honored their priesthood.  I am also thankful for the continuous prayers in the hearts of those who are close to me.  I am thankful for miracles.  I know that God lives and answer prayers…no matter how simple they are.

 

 

10? Things I want my kids to know (Part 5)

 

10.       Evaluate the cost at the start; With all of your decisions in life if you want “A” you’ll have to pay “B” or if you get “A” you’ll have to give up “B” sad but true. Some will tell you this is not so, saying  “You can have it all” Or “It won’t cost you anything”, or “No one will know”  but every time they are trying to get you to leave behind or give up what is most valuable for something much less. To do this we must see the end from the beginning or in other words we must look ahead and see where this path will take us. We also need to look at where we will end up and what the cost is and seek good advice from the scriptures or prophets. Sometimes it is very obvious while other times it isn't so clear.

The Word of Wisdom for example. When it was first reveled it didn't seem to make much since. Some of the things we were asked to do without were even thought to be healthy back then.  Now year’s later science and good practice has proven that if we keep it we will live healthier and longer.

In the 70’s woman leaving their small children to claim their place in the work force was heralded as courageous and the best for all. WE were told it was “quality” not the “quantity” of the time we spent with our family that counted. Time has proven this not the case, it takes both. I still remember the sinking feeling I had deep in the pit of my stomach as we watched the serviceman install our new satellite dish that would give us over 400 channels and unlimited entertainment. I knew without a doubt deep in my gut as it was going in that it was not a good thing for my family. I wanted out of the contract I had just signed, but rationalized it away knowing I would love all the viewing choices. Now, I think of all the time lost sitting and veggin’, and wonder what we would have done if not entranced by the seductive lure all that entertainment. O the places we could have gone and the things we could have seen.

All I'm saying is look forward to where you'll end up and pray often about your choices. It’s the seemingly small things that I have found that have the biggest effect as time wears on.

11.       Life is not fair! Get over it This seems to be a reoccurring theme in my writing. I think it is because in my youth, I had hoped that life would be fair, of course that means with a strong bias to my needs and wants. I found out the hard way after feeling picked on and sorry for myself for a long time and beating my head against the wall that life isn’t fair and was never even meant to be. It has taken me a long time to learn this and a lot of hours wasted crying over spilt milk to come to this point of enlightenment. So I guess I would like to spare you the cost of finding it out for yourself because once you have come to this knowledge and accept it as the norm, life suddenly gets much easier to handle. J You can go about life not worrying about when or where it will start to be fair, and just get on with it.

Ø  “Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he’s been robbed. The fact is that most putts don’t drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to just be people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration, most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. Life is like an old time rail journey…delays…sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling burst of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.” Gordon B Hinkley,

It may seem like you will always be expected to do more than your share; you should look for ways to help more than your share in every circumstance. Selfless service is a cornerstone to living a happier life.

 

12.       Forgive; To forgive is a divine attribute. It is to pardon or excuse someone from blame for an offense or misdeed.  This may be the hardest of all. It is healing to forgive and it is how we find peace. It is the single greatest  gift you can give yourself. That's right forgiving others is a gift to yourself! It is important to remember that we are commanded to forgive and if we do not then we cannot seek forgiveness ourselves. It does not require the other party to accept our forgiveness or even acknowledge it. When we forgive we are not saying that what they did is “ok” or “alright”, we are not excusing their behavior. You need to know also that forgiveness of others is not necessarily a feeling it is in fact, a decision and a choice. If and when we stick to that decision, then eventually the feeling will come. Ask for help from Father when you need to and he will help, over and over and over again if you are having trouble sticking to your decision to forgive. It is a tricky thing- I have found. And for me at least it can take some time. I will be driving along and a thought will sneak across my mind and the old pain will try to work its way back in. At those times when it dawns on me that I have relapsed into a negative way of thinking I again pray, I again turn it over to the lord. I again recommit to my decision to forgive. The fact that I would even have these little relapses use to trouble me, but not any more I think it’s just the devil testing my resolve. He wants that old pain to fester and grow within us. But with a lot of help from Father I’m now okay with this kind of test.

Elder Richard G. Scott of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles:“ Forgiveness … allows the love of God to purge your heart and mind of the poison of hate. It cleanses your consciousness of the desire for revenge. It makes place for the purifying, healing, restoring love of the Lord”. (in Conference Report, Apr. 1992, 45; or Ensign, May 1992, 33).

Gordon B. Hinckley when he was a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said: “There is no peace in harboring old grudges. There is no peace in reflecting on the pain of old wounds. There is peace only in repentance and forgiveness. This is the sweet peace of the Christ, who said, ‘Blessed are the peacemakers; for they shall be called the children of God’. (Matthew 5:9)” (in Conference Report, Oct. 1980, 88; or Ensign, Nov. 1980, 63).

 9 Wherefore, I say unto you, that ye ought to ^aforgive one another; for he that ^bforgiveth not his brother his trespasses standeth condemned before the Lord; for there remaineth in him the greater sin.

10 I, the Lord, will ^aforgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to ^bforgive all men. (D&C 64:9-10.)

A great talk on forgiving is     Choosing to Forgive

Hardships make us if they don’t break us.

The first winter on the farm in Idaho in January of 1980 the water froze and froze hard. We got our water from a mountain spring that was just at the foot of the mountain about a quarter mile behind our house. The pipe that carried the water from the spring to the house was buried about 4ft deep. It had started to leak and the severe cold found its way down to the ,main water line and froze it. There was no chance for repair till late spring when the ground had unfrozen. The line would then have to be dug up and replaced. So our house just didn’t have any water. I’m telling you it was cold back then and record snow fall too.

The rancher that had a cattle feed lot next door said we could get water from the stock tank that the cows used. The water ran all the time and from the tap it was very clean. We would load up the tractor with grandpa’s old “Diamond T” flatbed trailer with all the old milk cans and 50 gal drums we had. We would fill all the milk cans from the tap that never stopped flowing that fresh mountain spring water. This was our drinking and cooking water. But it took too long to wait to fill everything that way. So we would break the ice and scoop up in 5 gal buckets of water from the trough for bathing, washing and flushing the toilet. We would then drive the tractor back to the house and unload as much as we could onto the back porch. Then every day we would chip through the ice to get the water we needed. We only flushed the toilet about once a day. The old adage “if its yellow let it mellow, if it’s brown flush it down” really meant something then. Baths were Saturday night in preparation for church on Sunday. The smallest would go first it seemed like, and would receive one large canning pot of hot water. The next child would go and a fresh pot would be added to the tub and so on. I remember looking down at the tub after mom had just added a fresh pot of hot water for me to the now half full tub, there was moss from the cattle trough floating in the dark gray water and I thought to myself “how can this dirty water get me clean?” but after a week of no bathing I really didn't even care. Truth be told it felt soooo good and I did feel better maybe even slightly cleaner after. Spring finally came and dad rented a trencher and a new line was installed to the house and water returned.

This taught us to be thankful for the things in our life that we normally take for granted. This was a hard time but we pulled together and made it through “none the worse for the wear.”

Remember Case family rule #1 Life’s hard but I’m tough!!