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

10? Things I want my kids to know (Part 3)



Alma (Tam) Wright on his horse at Kolob Utah

Lewis Martin Hodgkinson

7.     You come from a long line of great men and women and you are who you are in no small part because of them. Just think if you had a different grandfather you would be 1/8^th different than you are now. It was rumored that your great, great grandpa cut his toe off and just wrapped his toe up stuck his boot on and went back to work. He didn’t take his boot back off some time after that even sleeping in his boot. He just kept doing what he needed to do. His DNA is part of you. Also in the book From Tabernacle to Temple – the Story of the Vernal Utah Temple (ISBN 0-9665966-C-9) on page 22 William and Hephzibeh are mentioned in conjunction with a visit from the President of the Church, Joseph F. Smith for the dedication of the Uintah Stake Tabernacle. He tells that your 3rd great grandfather saved him from an angry mob and wanted to visit his family to tell them the story.  I can see parts of them in each of you.



Garrett Case Family

 



Maria Jackson Normington Parker

Thomas and Maria Jackson Normington were converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Burnley, Lancashire, England. They had three daughters and a year old son, having had two boys and their oldest daughter die there in England. They worked and saved money to immigrate to Zion. Finally, the sailed on the vessel, “Horizon” from Liverpool on May 22, 1856 with two of Maria’s brothers who had also joined the church. The ship reached Boston, Massachusetts six weeks later, on June 30 and the arrived in Iowa City, Iowa on July 8, 1856. The Normingtons learned that there had been so many converts preparing to cross the plains to Salt Lake City that all the handcarts were being used by earlier companies, so more carts had to be hastily constructed and all that was available was green wood. Precious time was lost making the handcarts, which should have been spent in traveling, and many provisions were used which should have been for their journey. At last, on July 28, 1856, the Martin Handcart company started westward. In spite of the lateness of the season and the advice of those in charge at Winter Questers, the leaders decided the company should leave. In their desire to go to Zion, the overlooked the fact that God moves in natural ways and expects us to respect natural laws. It was the fifth handcart company to leave that season and consisted of 576 person, 146 handcarts, 7 wagons, 6 mules, 50 cows and beef cattle. Usually the man would pull the handcart and his wife and children push or walked alongside. Thus, Maria and her family traveled the first lap of the journey, 300 miles to Florence, Nebraska, where they arrived August 11, 1856. At Florence, Nebraska the two sections of the Martin Handcart Company were consolidated into one as a protection against the Indians in crossing the mountains and plains, and on August 25th, the company rolled out of Florence. They reached Fort Laramie six weeks later in October, and were told Salt Lake was just two weeks away. Perhaps they would have made it to the Sale Lake valley before the sons but there were numerous delays. That hastily made handcarts and the use of the green wood combined to make the carts break down frequently resulting in a costly loss of time and provision. Maria and Thomas were expecting their eighth child in about three months but things hadn’t been overly difficult. Their three little girls and boy toddler were happy and she has a good singer with a jolly, cheerful disposition. Her favorite song was “Come, Come, Ye Saints” and it was a great comfort to sing as they pushed and pulled the cart. Each adult received a ration of one pound of flour a day, but even so there were still hungry, so when they reached Fort Laramie, they were glad to exchange their watches and other valuables for extra food. Maria and the other pioneer women were well organized and would have dinner ready a half hour after camp was made for the night. They made biscuits on the way by mixing soda with a cup of sour milk, pouring it into the top of the flour sack, adding a pinch of salt and quickly shaping biscuits which were cooked as soon as they stopped. Soon however, the flour rations had to be cut to ¾ a pound a day, later to ½ pound, and still alter to less and finally no flour at all. Still the company toiled cheerfully on. They were becoming weak from fatigue and lack of food. So it was with heavy hearts that any extra things from the handcarts were cached or simply abandoned along the road. Extra bedding, carefully guarded heirlooms, personal treasures, all were left behind to lighten the loads, but still, with rivers to ford and an early winter sapping their energy, progress was slow. Maria and Thomas’ little boy, about eighteen months old, dies, and she was permitted to ride half a day in a wagon with his little body until camp was made and he was buried. Soon after, Maria gave birth to a new baby boy, who soon died. On the morning of October 19, they awoke to a raging snowstorm. Already their beds were covered with four inches of snow. They were camped by the Platte River and had to cross it before the storm grew worse. The river was wagon-bed deep, and the men carried the children and those women who were too ill across, but most of the women tied up their long skirts and waded across. The storm continued for several days until the snow was fifteen inches deep on the level, but still they struggled on, strong in their faith and their hopes for a new life in Zion. Probably as a result of the exposure from the storm and freezing cold of the river fording, cholera broke out among the starving, suffering camp and one night Maria’s husband, Thomas, and sixteen other died and were buried in a common grave. A friend of the Normington family, James Bleak became so ill from the cholera that his family thought he was dying, and since the company had to move on, they wrapped him in a blanket and left him to die on the prairie. That evening when they camped for the night, Maria went to ask how their friend, James Bleak was feeling. When Mrs. Bleak told her they had left him back on the trail to die. Marie told her she should not have permitted him to be left because he had been promised in England by the gift of tongues that he should reach Zion in peace and safety. Maria then took her handcart and went back on the trail until she found him and brought him back to the camp, helping bring him back to health. James Bleak did live to reach Zion and became secretary to President Brigham Young. Their clothing and shoes were worn out. They had very little bedding and practically no food. Maria saved what food she had for the three little girls and she tried to eat dirt to satisfy the hunger pangs. She walked until her feet were so frozen and sore she could walk no more. Then she crawled along on her hands and knees, and when her hands were so frozen she could use them no more, she went on her knees and elbows. Years later, at the time of her death, there were great scares on them from this awful experience. Maria was so overcome with hardships, starvation and grief that when the relief wagons came, she was unconscious and remembered nothing of the last part of the journey. A company of missionaries, returning to Salt Lake City on October 4th, had reported the terrible conditions of the handcart company they had passed. Conference, which was in session, was adjourned and president Young called for 20 teams, loaded with provision, to leave the next day to meet the emigrants. John Parker furnished one team and wagon loaded with provisions, and his son William Parker drove the team. It was into this wagon that Maria and her three little girls were placed. On Monday, November 30, 1856, the weary survivors reached Salt Lake City more than four months after they started. Only about 300 of the original 567 reached the valley. Some turned back, but most died of privation along the trail. Maria and her children were taken to the home of John parker and nursed until she recovered, after which she helped with the house and farm work at the Parker farm near Taylorsville. She was sealed in the Endowment House to her dead husband, Thomas Normington and in 1857 married John Parker as a plural wife. Six years later, John Parker and his three families were called on a mission to southern Utah to raise cotton, fruit, etc. They left their comfortable homes again and moved their cattle and sheep to help build up and redeem a rough, desolate wasteland. At first, Maria lived in a “dugout” and later in a log house. She was thrifty and industrious, washing and scouring wool from their sheep, carding and dying it with dock roots or adder, then weaving it into cloth for their dresses and suits, which she also made. She sewed, knitted, tatted, and netted, making the most of she had, and was soon comfortable in their home. Maria was never heard to censure anyone for her trials, nor complain because her lot was hard. She was cheerful and faithful throughout her life and felt that the gospel of Jesus Christ, for which she had endures so much, was the most glorious of all blessings. Her family said her prayers reflected her great faith as she seemed to actually see and talk with her Father in Heaven as she expressed her gratitude and asked for the blessings they needed. She died in Virgin City, Washing County on March, 18, 1881.

Side note: One time on the farm when grandpa Case (far right in the 3rd picture) was visiting us and was helping me move the 4” sprinkler lines that kept our crops watered and growing. We had just turned on one of the sprinkler line after we had moved it and watched to make sure that the line had come to full pressure insuring that the job was done and all was well. We heard the distinctive clang as the pipe hit full pressure and all the sprinkler heads sprung into full production. (No greater sight for a farm boy in summer than a sprinkler line at full pressure after having just moving it) Satisfied that our work on this line was done I turned for his old red Chevy truck and met the soul searching gaze of my grandfather. He was just standing there looking at me, muddy and covered in sweat. It was getting a little uncomfortable, then with an intense look he said, “I’ve given your dad a good name and he has taken good care of it. He has given that name to you. What do you plan to do with it?” This has stuck with me throughout my life, sometimes it condemns me when I should have done better and other times it lifts me as I have done my best. Like it or not, we carry this name that has been defended and built up by all those that have come before us and we should do our best to honor it in our words and deeds.

10? Things I want my kids to know (Part 2)

4.       It’s ok to cry; I have told you time and time again to suck it up and move forward, often accompanied by a “cuff-up-side the head”. Endlessly I chastised you for crying when you were younger, as I told you to just rub some dirt on it and get moving. I fear that in an effort to help you be aware that you are tougher than you know. I may have put a negative spin on all crying. I would like to rectify that now! It is ok to cry. We must not waste time feeling sorry for ourselves; however it is appropriate to morn when we have experienced loss. Not only is it appropriate but it is essential to being able to deal with and understand what has happened and eventually put it into perspective and move forward. It can be a great stress reliever. It is ok and even necessary to see hurt and pain for what it is and deal with it, not bottle it up or we will pay a much higher price when that bottled up emotion finally overflows and overwhelms us.

My least favorite time to cry is when I have transgressed. I know, and we have been promised that with transgression there will always be tears.

There are other times we might cry, when we are extremely happy, like good memories of my family or when we are moved and overwhelmed by the spirit. These times are my favorite times to cry. I love tears of happiness and joy or the way in which the spirit overwhelms me and brings me to tears. (*Side note; don’t mistake crying for always feeling the spirit as I sometimes have. Sometimes it’s just us crying?)

How do I know it’s ok to cry?

The toughest men and women I have come to know have cried. I remember as a boy when dad cut off the tips of his toes with the lawn mower. He limped into the house with a shredded bloody shoe and through pursed lips told Bryan and me to leave. We ran out the old wooden screen door then turned around and pressed our noses back to the screen to watch and see what would happen. He called for mom and as she began to look him over. He griped the chair in obvious agony and grunted through clinched teeth “I thought you were supposed to faint if the pain got this bad”.  Not one tear was shed then or when he broke his wrist and it was left just dangling crooked when the tractor backfired while he was crank starting it, or when the horse kicked him in the head giving him a concussion. The first time in my life I can remember my dad crying was at his mother’s furfural. If he had ever shed a tear before that I can’t say that I remember. But there in the sorrow of saying goodbye, his heart broken at this new loss, the toughest and bravest man I knew wept. What a tribute to his wonderful mother. Earl Crockett senior, at the loss of his young son Kelly. Gordon B Hinckley as he spoke of his beloved wife.

See also; John 11:35. 3 Nephi 17;21,22

 

5.       Stay close to the lord and pray always. All my happiness and joy I can trace back to my efforts to be obedience to the  gospel and the knowledge it has given me. Sadness always follows when I have strayed. Stay close and life will be better. I remember one night out coon hunting with Kyli. She was only about 10 at the time and loved to hunt the dogs. We had just recently got a new cell phone with a 2 year contract. She had asked if she could hold the phone and I let her. At the end of the night hunting we had followed those dogs all over that valley in the dark and had a very successful night. When we got the dogs loaded up in the truck and headed back for home around midnight. I asked her for the phone. I saw the panicked look come over her face as she felt her empty pockets.

 “I must have dropped it somewhere along the way.” she said in a panic. We had walked miles in tall sage brush, grass and weeds following our hounds. There was no way to find it in the dark with such a large area to cover and even if we went back we could not retrace our tracks kuz the dogs and coons didn’t know how to follow a trail or even go in a straight line. After thinking about it for a second, realizing we couldn’t possibly retrace our steps, afford a new phone or even get out of the contract I said “will you say a prayer and ask Heavenly Father to help us find the phone?” (You see, I happen to know and bare my personal testimony that Father Loves to listen to children.)So on cue she said a very simple prayer, her little head bowed, and little arms folded. As she offered that small childlike simple prayer the earth seemed to quiet a little, the restless dogs, still wound up from the hunt settled down and the cool midnight breeze was exactly right. The air seemed crisp; not cool just crisp all as if to indicate that Father was paying attention to this prayer.  It was the silver blue moon that offered our only light and it was enough to get you around. We pulled back into the spot we had unloaded hours earlier. I turned to her and asked if she thought we would find it. She shrugged her shoulders not knowing how we possibly could.

 I had felt like this would be one of those times that Father would reach out his hand and perform a wonder for this little girl’s prayer. I silently asked that He might grant her this prayer as a way of showing her His love. We got out of the truck with the plan that we would just try to follow the path as best we could of the earlier hunt. I looked out at the dark landscape and the seemingly impossible task but, I felt peace. As I stepped toward to the first fence crossing that we had crawled through, I saw a blinking green light in the tall grass. It was the phone!!! We snatched it up with lightened hearts and started home after having a prayer of thanks. I guess the point of this story is to reaffirm to you that He hears and answers you prayers. If it’s important to you it’s important to Him. I have similar stories for all of my children.

  2 Nephi 4:35 Yea, I know that God will give ^aliberally to him that asketh. Yea, my God will give me, if I ^bask ^cnot amiss; therefore I will lift up my voice unto thee; yea, I will cry unto thee, my God, the ^drock of my ^erighteousness. Behold, my voice shall forever ascend up unto thee, my rock and mine everlasting God. Amen.

 

6.       Always be thankful. There is always, always, always, something to be grateful for. Some people go through life looking for the silver lining on every cloud and others will look for the cloud on every silver lining. In life you will always find what you’re looking for. I cannot say that enough, you will always find what you’re looking for!! So look for the good. Search out those things that are praiseworthy, uplifting and desirable.

Happiness is what you find when you’re engaged in being thankful; it’s not a thing you get, or something you buy, or a place you go, or a time you wait for. If you can’t be grateful and happy for what is in your life right now, with where you are and what you have, chances are you won’t be happy when you get what you though you wanted or where you thought happiness is waiting.

In our life we will face grief, pain, suffering and disappointment that are real and are meant to be part of our earthly experience. These times are hard and will be uncomfortable and sometimes seem overwhelming. We can still make them better or worse depending on how we stand and face them. I’m not advocating pretending that all is well, as the house around you burns down, but “Attitude is everything” this is an eternal principle.

When life gets going too fast, stop and remember all that you have to be thankful for.
(Count your blessings) If you haven’t made this a habit then at first it will be hard. Ask for help from Father to see and recognize your blessings. They are there I promise.

When we are thankful, little things and stumbling blocks seem to get out of our way. There is less in our life that weighs us down, less to fear and less to cause worry. We are freer to see and enjoy all the things around us. Gratitude will help improve every aspect of your life; physical, financial, relational, mental, emotional and spiritual. Unfortunately the opposite is also true. A bad attitude is the destroyer of every good thing.

One thing that is yours and can never be taken away is your attitude. You must see, understand and own this. If you have a bad attitude then you and you alone chose that. You are always in control of that. It is the great lie that something, or what someone else did is in control of your attitude. Don’t get caught in the trap of this great lie.

If you have a min watch this:

 

Quieting the voices that tell me I can’t

 

This week I ran, in training for the upcoming 5k race I’m entered in. Now when I say “run” I mean “old man bouncy jog” I drove out to the actual race path and begin my run. I just couldn’t get into the mood to run. I didn’t want to do it, but began my run anyway.

You see I fight with these little gremlins in my head. They are loud and constant and don’t want me to accomplish my goals, to work hard, to be uncomfortable or achieve. They whisper in my mind, just relax and be fat and lazy, that is all. “If you try you might fail. It’s safer not to try at all.” They always say.
They try everything known to man to get me to stop or not even try at all. They have a counter to every argument I have for continuing. The worst part is all their arguments are really, really good and make sense to me which is why I’m fat and out of shape. I listen to them and give in way too much. “It’s hot, I’m tired, I didn’t get good sleep last night, my foot hurts, my knees ache, my leg is cramping, sweet is dripping in my eyes, my man boobs bounce way too much, my back hurts and I’ll just have a doughnut or two to get more energy.”

Those voices in my head are nonstop and relentless!!!

All I need to do is just give myself permission to stop; because quitting is so easy; I just need to agree to be ok with it. Going on is so hard.

So how do I go on? How can I overcome these naysayers in my own head? Well I start by giving myself a pep talk, using lines from a motivational speech. “I am a Champion…!”

Voice still answers “You can’t”

 I respond; but ”I think can?”

“Why try? You will fail.”

 “You can” verses “You can’t” for the whole run the battle rages in my head.
 I slow my pace as the argument rages. Then beaten, I drop off to a walk. Defeated by myself and the voices I’ve chosen to listen to in my head. Now left only to the dutiful task of beating myself down for the rest of the day for quitting. The gremlins laugh with joy - completely fulfilled as I begin the self loathing.

I need help outside myself. I wanted advice I wanted someone to just tell me the magic trick I need to win the argument in my head. It must be someone really great because these are not your average run of the mill gremlins.

I thought about asking my little brother Darrin. He is an awesome runner and surely has developed a system for beating the voices in his head. (Everyone has these voices… right?) He is busy at work and I don’t really like to expose my failures. Maybe I’ll just Google it. That’s more anonymous. (In my head I high five myself for keeping it hidden) I can find just about anything on the internet. “Good plan” I tell myself as I drive away.

Time passes and I find myself ready for my next training run. I didn’t get around to finding “the fix” for my problem as I had hoped. (Procrastination is another problem of mine) I know if I don’t do something different, I will fail again. I know these voices too well. They can whip anyone or anything no matter how fixed in my determination I am, (Alma 47:6-18 this is how they work. They get me to weaken, or give in just a little, “come down just a little” all the while reassuring me that it will be ok but then poison me by degrees). I need to be on my “A” game if I even want to have a chance. I find my thoughts are in a panic.

 “THINK!!” I tell myself, I need a plan or I’ll fail again.

I start my run not knowing how I will fight this battle.

As I start I’m feeling good and keeping a good pace. I start to settle in and my joints start to loosen and move better. This is always the best part of the run for me, well aside from the part where I’m done and get to rest. After the first mile things start to hurt. The course was mostly downhill to start and at this point flattens out and requires a little more effort on my part.

 I can hear the voices now but they are far off and it’s easy to ignore them but the reality that they are coming for me starts a panic.

Why didn’t I prepare for this better? “Where is Darrin and Google now that I need help? WHAT WILL I DO?”
‘ Panic’ now at full tilt in my head. Somewhere in the fog of panic, voices and my own thoughts I am able pull a soft whisper from the mix. “Ask Father for Help.”

 I instantly feel foolish and ashamed, that as I was thinking earlier for the best person, the most knowledgeable and wise- I didn’t even think to ask Father.

Prayer is sometimes hard for me when I want “the fix.” I want a simple, easy, black and white answer given to me for my questions and it’s been my experience that He doesn't usually work that way with me. Most times He asks me to figure it out, (with his help of course.)

The voices tell me. “I got myself into this predicament of being out of shape. Shouldn’t I have to get myself out?

God is busy with everything else in the universe and you want Him to take time out of his busy day for this?

 It’s just running, stop acting like a child. You’re tough, you don’t need help.

What are you a wuss that needs to run home to Daddy every time the going gets a little rough? Suck it up and just do it you whimp!”

UGH the voices have a say in everything that goes on in my head it seems.

I begin the prayer in my heart as I run. “I need help with these voices in my head. They want me to give up and fail.”

 The impression comes “Why do you listen to them?” 

 “They know me and my weakness, they make ‘quitting’ make since.”

“Do you want to quit?”

“No”

“Then don’t. Just keep going. One step at a time is all we need for now.”

“But I'm tired, my feet hurt, it’s hot, the end is so far…” echoing the taunts I have heard so many times in my thoughts as if the words or beliefs are my own.

“Do you want to quit?”

“No?”

“Then don’t, just keep going… one step at a time. That is all we need for now. You will get tired, it will hurt, it is hot, but the end is not that far now that you’ve started, you’ll see. To better yourself isn’t meant to be easy. It will be hard, but I will be with you. Keep going ‘we’ can do this. ”

“Are you sure?”

“Can you trust me?”

“Yes.”

I feel some relief from the battle that was ragging in my head and that somehow lightens my load. It is easier to run. Not because I’m lighter or younger or the road is shorter, “it is what it is” but now I am not alone with the voices.  

As I pray I notice the voices are getting farther away and harder to hear. If I want to hear them now, I really have to listen. But I chose not to try to hear them. My run is better just knowing the voices have moved further away for now and are kept at a distance. They are still there but out of reach for now like shadows that must hide from the light. From time to time they sneak back in my head, bombarding me with doubt but I immediately begin praying for help and they leave. It is as if they have been trained to go.

When the course turned for home it started the long uphill pull to the finish line.

“This is getting harder and all my energy is used up” I say starting to panic.

“This is hard, but we can make it.”

Finally the finish is in sight, I am spent, all used up, so tired but I’m smiling as I finish.
The run was good and I met my goal. I have felt my Father’s love today. As I reflect I am filled with admiration for my Heavenly Father and that he always has time for me and my silliness. It is literally astounding to me that he loves me and cares for me. He has told me time and time again “If it’s important to you it’s important to me.”

I have done nothing to deserve his attention and yet, He is always there when I ask.

Life is Good!

 

Post script: the gremlins in my head are Satan and his legions. They want us to fail every time and are giddy when they succeed.  Their happiness is always fleeting and must be replaced continually. Their happiness only comes from our sadness and failure. Any time we have negative ‘self-talk’ (this is different from a constructive self evaluation) that tears us down, it is not of God and therefore by default we know it comes from, ‘Satan’. If we want to get rid of the thoughts Satan plants in our minds we just need to introduce the spirit - for where there is light there cannot be darkness.

Prayer

Just some personal notes,

In my Sunday school class a long time ago the topic of discussion moved to prayers and answers to those prayers. A man about 38 raise his hand and said something like “you can talk all you want about answers to prayers but I have been praying my whole life and have never received an answer.” this troubled me deeply.

Prayer is one of the greatest blessings we have while we are here on earth. Through prayer we can communicate with our Heavenly Father and seek his guidance daily. We are all children of God. He loves us and knows our needs, and He wants us to communicate with Him through prayer. We should pray to Him and no one else. The Lord Jesus Christ commanded, 3 Nephi 18:19 "Ye must always pray unto the Father in my name". As we make a habit of approaching God in prayer, we will come to know Him and draw ever nearer to Him. Our desires will become more like His. So that should be our goal, to have our desires in line with his. We then will be able to secure for ourselves and for others blessings that He is ready to give if we will but ask in faith.

Always give thanks to Heavenly Father. We should "live in thanksgiving daily, for the many mercies and blessings which he doth bestow upon [us]" (Alma 34:38). As we take time to remember our blessings, we will recognize how much our Heavenly Father has done for us. We should express our thanks to Him.

Receiving Answers to Prayer

The Savior taught, (Matthew 7:7–8)"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened". To the Nephites in (3 Nephi 18:20) He said, "Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, which is right, believing that ye shall receive, behold it shall be given unto you".
Heavenly Father hears our prayers. He may not always answer as we expect, but He does answer—in His own time and according to His will. Because He knows what is best for us,

Answers to prayer come in many ways.

One answer to a faithful prayer is illustrated through the experience of Oliver Cowdery, an early elder of the Church, when he attempted to help with translating the Book of Mormon. He was told to "study it out in [his] mind" and, if his translation were right, it would be confirmed with a burning in his bosom; if wrong, a "stupor of thought" would come (D&C 9:8-9). When prayers are answered, one experiences peace of mind and assurance that God has heard, even though the answer may be no. The Savior's submissiveness as he prayed in Gethsemane shows us a good example when he said: "Nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done" (Luke 22:42).

Answers often come in different ways to all of us like; through the still, small voice of the Holy Ghost; this may come as feelings, impressions or sudden inspirations. They may come in the circumstances of our lives or through the kind acts of those around us. Often God gives us the power to help answer our own prayers. We can ask the lord for help in understanding how he talks to us, so that we can become more acquainted with it.
 I did this once when following the challenge of my steak president. I prayed for help in understanding how he talks to me. I found that after I would pray for something and then that situation would play out that I would get a “run down” form the spirit telling “do you remember when you had that feeling not to go, but you did and it didn’t turnout good for you? Well that was me talking to you, helping you. I continued to pray for his help in knowing how he spoke to me and through many of these experiences I started to see how the spirit would talk to me and help me if I would listen, and better yet how to tell the promptings from my own thoughts and feelings.

Sometimes the answer will be yes; sometimes, no; sometimes, wait; sometimes, not yet; and sometimes he will let us work it out ourselves. We need to listen and remember how the Holy Ghost talks to us so we can more readily heed its promptings. Heavenly Father knows what is best for us, and he will give us “good things” or the things that will help us the most, because he loves us. He will answer our sincere prayers. And we can partake of those answers if we are prepared and listening.
As we continue to draw near to our Heavenly Father through prayer, we will recognize more readily His merciful and wise answers to our pleadings. We will find that He is our "refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble" (Psalm 46:1). Sometimes we do not realize that Heavenly Father has answered our prayers, but later we see that he has given us an answer.

So how can we know how and what to pray for?

Alma 7:23 "I would that ye should be humble,…asking for whatsoever things ye stand in need, both spiritual and temporal; always returning thanks unto God for whatsoever things ye do receive"

Seek the guidance of the Holy Ghost so we will know what to include in our prayers. The Holy Ghost can teach us to pray and guide us in the things we say (He can help us pray "according to the will of God"

3^rd Nephi 19:24 And it came to pass that when Jesus had thus prayed unto the Father, he came unto his disciples, and behold, they did still continue, without ceasing, to pray unto him; and they did not multiply many words, for it was given unto them what they should pray, and they were filled with desire. So we can see from this scripture that if we pray with the help of the Holy Ghost we will know what to pray for and how to pray.

D&C 46:30 He that asketh in the Spirit asketh according to the will of God; wherefore it is done even as he asketh.

  Language of prayer

o    President Spencer W. Kimball commented, "In all our prayers, it is well to use the pronouns thee, thou, thy, and thine instead of you, your, and yours inasmuch as they have come to indicate respect" (p. 201). Unnecessary repetition of God's name is avoided,

    The Church uses set prayers only in temple ordinances, in the two Sacrament prayers, and in the baptismal prayer. "By revelation the Lord has given the Church…set prayers for use in our sacred ordinances…. [These] relate to the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ, his crucifixion, and his burial and resurrection. All of the ordinances in which we use these prayers place us under solemn covenants of obedience to God" (Kimball et al., p. 56). In all other instances, Latter-day Saints express themselves in their own words.

o    

·         Preparation for prayer

o    A tranquil time and place allow quiet contemplation on the specific requests one may make. Joseph Smith went to a nearby grove to pray for an answer to his question, and received his glorious vision. Job was told, "Prepare thine heart, and stretch out thine hands toward him" (Job 11:13). Alma ₂ listed the qualities of a heart prepared for prayer: "I would that ye should be humble, and be submissive and gentle; easy to be entreated; full of patience and long-suffering…being diligent in keeping the commandments of God…. And see that ye have faith, hope, and charity, and then ye will always abound in good works" (Alma 7:23-24). Moroni ₂ stressed the need for "a sincere heart,…real intent,…[and] faith in Christ" (Moro. 10:4).