Here's another Facebook post:

Sharman Hunter Wilson shared a link. Aug 07, 2014 2:45am

Mormon missionaries and the stigma of early return - Flunking Sainthood janariess.religionnews.com So much cultural and personal baggage regarding this issue! I hope the attention this has been getting lately will smooth the way for those who need to come home early. It is especially critical for those suffering from mental health issues. It's well known that many of these illnesses and disorders begin to show up in the late teens/early 20's; and that they are often triggered by stressful situations. Mission life is so radically different from anything young people have ever experienced, it can throw even the healthiest of them for a loop. For those predisposed to mental health challenges, it can pull the rug right out from under their feet and send them into a downward slide that can take years to recover from. The sooner they get help, the better, and if that means going home for treatment, so be it. I've seen up close and personal what can happen when someone feels obligated to "stick it out" instead of asking for timely help, and I've been slammed by the resultant landslide that has taken down with it so many of us who stood close by. Please remember, Mormon folks, (as I switch metaphors) that we're all in this boat together, and we need to toss this heavy baggage off to keep us afloat!

I'm experimenting with putting some Facebook posts of mine up on my blog. Here's one from 2014 where I comment on an Exponent article.

Sharman Hunter Wilson shared a link. Aug 09, 2014 2:41pm

I Hope You Stay the-exponent.com I know my capacity for empathy is limited by my own experiences (and lack thereof). I, like Melody, have so many reasons for hoping people stay, but I am also painfully aware of my capacity to pour salt on the wounds of the deeply wounded by expressing that hope. It's a conundrum of the highest level because when we love something, we want to share it with those we love. The fact that sometimes our own life-saving elixir could be poison to someone else is more than most of us can comprehend or even bear. I wonder if thinking of it in terms of something like food allergies might help. I love shrimp, peanut butter, and strawberries, and they are good and wholesome for my body, but would I offer them to someone deathly allergic, hoping they would eat them with as much gusto as I do? People sometimes get over allergies, but perhaps I'm showing my insensitivity and bias by thinking that would be a good thing. So much for metaphors. The more I try to understand anything, it seems, the more I realize that I see through a glass darkly, and the more I long to see as God sees and love as God loves.

Brent and I volunteered to be a part of the W.I.S.E. program at Louisville Elementary School. All four of the 4th grade classes were involved, and each child was paired up with a local Senior citizen. We aren't 65, but 61 is close enough. My partner was named Samantha, and she was a budding artist. We passed a journal back and forth and chatted, wrote poems, played games, wrote little stories, etc. together (she drew a lot of pictures, too). We filled in a timeline of our lives. The biggest part of the project was the life story interview questions us old folks were asked to answer, and which the kids used to write a short biography of their partner. All this took place over a number of weeks. On Tuesday night, the teachers, parents, and kids gave us W.I.S.E. partners a dinner and the kids performed a little talent show. It was great to finally meet each other in person! The children presented their partners with the biographies they had written about us. It was fun! I spent a lot of time responding to the questions about my life, and so I figured I might as well post them!

Here are the three responses I wrote.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

This is the closest thing to a personal history I've done in awhile.

Baby Lev, my baby Lev, I love my Lev, oh how I love my Lev...

I haven't seen my grandson in Salt Lake since the beginning of August, and it's killing me! Definitely suffering from withdrawal. I'm hoping to go out early November to help Shea when Paul is gone for a conference. Meanwhile, I'll just have to keep playing this video.

In October of 2008, we had a reunion for girls who lived in the BYU dorm, Bowen Hall, in the school year 1971-72. The organizers asked each attendee to send a scrapbook page showing our life since BYU. Here's the page I did. This was 3 years ago, so it's outdated.
scrapbook page

Easter Talk 4/16/06 Hope in Christ

Easter Talk 4/16/06

Hope in Christ

Easter comes in the Spring, the season that symbolizes Hope.  In the middle of the long winter, those of us who live in cold, dark climates hope for warmth and more daylight to come soon. We eagerly await the blooming of flowers and the budding of the trees.  We hope for these things, and we know from experience that they will come.  But what are our deepest, most heartfelt hopes?  I hope for many things.  I hope for a better world, where there is forgiveness and healing.  I hope for good to triumph over evil, for love to conquer hate, for peace to take the place of war.  I hope for joy to triumph over sorrow, comfort over pain, and life over death.  Is it unrealistic and naïve to hope for such things?  For thousands of years, good men have tried and failed to bring these things about in any permanent sort of way.  Yet many truly believe it will happen someday. What is the source of such hope?  In a letter to the scattered saints, the Apostle Peter wrote: “…be always ready to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you…” (I Peter 3:15).

 I am ready to give an answer to anyone who asks me:  the reason for my hope is Jesus Christ and his atoning sacrifice.  By his atonement, Christ brings an end to sorrow, pain, and death.   “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain…” (Revelation 21:4).  By his atonement, Christ is victorious over hate and war.  “…and they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore” (Rev. 2:4).  By his atonement, Christ has the power to triumph over evil, for he subdues all things unto himself, “even to the destroying of Satan and his works at the end of the world…” (D&C 19:2-3).   By his atonement, we can be forgiven and healed.  “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (Isaiah 1:18).  By his atonement, he promises us a better world, a better life in His presence and in the presence of the Father.  “In my Father’s house are many mansions…I go to prepare a place for you…that where I am, there ye may be also.”  (John 14:2-3).

 How do we know that Jesus can deliver on such promises?  What evidence do we have that He has the power to triumph over evil and death?   Our evidence is the witness of his disciples, those closest to him in life, who testified that he took our sins upon himself, that he was crucified and rose the third day from the tomb.  They saw the empty tomb.  They saw his resurrected body.  They walked and talked with him.  They ate with him.  We have further evidence in our own witness of the Holy Ghost that their testimony is true.  Jesus showed us by the resurrection that he has power over death.  What more do we need to believe that he has the power to deliver on his promises?   He told his disciples, “because I live, ye shall live also” (John 14:19), and he meant it!            

The other day, as I was reading the newspaper, my attention was grabbed by a headline that read “Most don’t expect resurrection.”  The article begins, “Most Americans don’t believe they will experience a resurrection of their bodies when they die, putting them at odds with a core teaching of Christianity.”  [I might add that the resurrection is also a part of the Jewish tradition—there are many references to it in the Hebrew Bible].  The article explains that “only 36 percent of the 1,007 adults interviewed a month ago by the Scripps Survey Research Center at Ohio University said ‘yes’ to the question:  ‘Do you believe that, after you die, your physical body will be resurrected someday?’  Fifty-four percent said they do not believe and 10 percent were undecided.”  The article stated that 90% said they believe in God or a Supreme Being and 72% said they believe in an afterlife in which they will have “some sort of consciousness.”  Again, only 36% believe they will be resurrected.   Considering the fact that about 80% of Americans profess to be Christians, it is disheartening to realize how few actually believe they will be resurrected.

 The apostle Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable.  But now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the firstfruits of them that slept.  For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead.  For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive” (I Corinthians 15:19-22).  Paul seemed to feel pretty strongly about the importance of the resurrection when he said, “But if there be no resurrection of the dead, then is Christ not risen: and if Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain” (I Cor. 15:13-14).  He goes on to say, “And if Christ be not raised, your faith is vain; ye are yet in your sins.  Then they also which are fallen asleep in Christ are perished” (vs. 17-18).  According to Paul, our faith and hope in Christ centers on the resurrection.  Without it we are yet in our sins, we perish, our faith is in vain, and we are “most miserable.”

In my family I have personally witnessed the peace of those who believe in the resurrection as well as the heartbreaking misery of one who was without hope of any kind of life after death.  My closest sister, Heather, was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 29.  After 6 years of treatments, she was finally near death.  She slipped in and out of consciousness, and when she was conscious, she was usually incoherent.  One day, she suddenly sat up, fully conscious and coherent, and told those in the room that she had had a dream of Jesus.  She spoke of how wonderful He was and how she couldn’t wait to die and be with Him.  She was completely at peace, with no fear of death at all.  She died a few weeks later.  Most of us in the family took great comfort in her faith in Christ.  Our own faith was strengthened by it, and our grieving was eased.  We saw the fulfillment of the scripture:  “And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them” (D&C 42:46).  Sadly, one of my sisters was unable to take such comfort.  She was a kind-hearted, wonderful person, but she had lost her faith in God years earlier and had no belief in an afterlife or a resurrection. At Heather’s funeral, when it came time to close the casket, Wendy couldn’t bear it.  She sobbed her heart out, not wanting us to shut the lid.  She thought she would never see her beloved sister again.  Seven years later, when she herself was dying of the same disease, she ferociously fought her death, never coming to any peace, believing her entire existence was coming to an end.   We didn’t know what to say to comfort her—we felt helpless and sad to see her suffer so.  For her, death was a bitter cup that she did not want to drink.  I pray that she has found peace on the other side.

 I know I shall see both of my sisters again, as well as my brother and my parents, my grandparents, and all of those who have gone before me.  We will all be resurrected and brought before the Lord, and we will acknowledge him as our Savior and Redeemer.  “O give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good: for his mercy endureth forever” (Psalm 107:1). 

       

             

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Peace on Earth—Christmas talk 12/17/06

Peace on Earth—Christmas talk 12/17/06

We are all familiar with Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem, “Christmas Bells”—we know it better as Hymn #214 “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.”  Sister Julie Franklin, a professor at BYU, gave a Devotional speech this past December 5^th in which she provided some background to Longfellow’s writing of the poem.  “Christmas Bells”  was written in 1864, during the Civil War.  Longfellow’s son, Charles, had enlisted as a 17-year-old to fight in the war and had been sent home critically injured two weeks before Christmas.  With war raging and his son beginning to recuperate from his wounds, Longfellow penned the words we sing today of “peace on earth, good will to men.”

[Read Hymn #214, verses 1 & 2]:

I heard the bells on Christmas day

Their old familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet the words repeat

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how, as the day had come,

The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along th’unbroken song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.    

In Longfellow’s original poem the verse we know as verse 5 comes next, with two more verses that are omitted from the song: [Read verse 5, then the two omitted verses, then vs. 3 & 4]

Till, ringing, singing, on its way

The world revolved from night to day,

A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,

Of peace on earth, good will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth

The cannon thundered in the South,

And with the sound / The carols drowned

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

It was as if an earthquake rent

The hearthstones of a continent,

And made forlorn / The households born

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head:

“There is no peace on earth,” I said,

“For hate is strong and maocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

“God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,

With peace on earth, good will to men.”

Over 140 years have passed since Longfellow wrote, “The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth, good will to men.”  Longfellow had faith in the words of Luke describing the events surrounding the birth of Jesus Christ:  “And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.’”  (Luke 2:13)  But anyone who listens to the news today might also bow his head in despair and wonder—where is this peace that was promised with the coming of the Savior?

I would like to turn to an unlikely story in the Book of Mormon that might help us.  When Enos went into the woods to hunt, he had time to reflect on the state of his soul.  He wrestled in prayer for hours, seeking for a remission of his sins:  “And there came a voice unto me saying: Enos, thy sins are forgiven thee, and thou shalt be blessed.  And I, Enos, knew that God could not lie; wherefore my guilt was swept away.  And I said: Lord, how is it done?  And he said unto me:  Because of thy faith in Christ, whom thou hast never before heard nor seen.  And many years pass away before he shall manifest himself in the flesh…” (Enos, vs. 5-8).  Enos sought for the kind of peace that comes when one is right before God, and he received it through his faith in the promised Savior.

Joseph Smith, who had seen the resurrected Savior, felt this same kind of peace on his way to Carthage Jail when he said, “I am going like a lamb to the slaughter; but I am calm as a summer’s morning; I have a conscience void of offense towards God, and towards all men.” (D&C 135:4)

There is another kind of peace of mind that the Savior gives to us during our times of sorrow and trial:  “I will not leave you comfortless:  I will come to you…Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you.  Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” (John 14:18 & 27)  When Longfellow wrote his poem, his heart was most likely troubled, not only over his son’s injuries and the war, but also over other circumstances in his life.  He had lost his first wife, Mary, years earlier when she miscarried in her sixth month of pregnancy.  He remarried and had five children with his second wife, Frances, called Fannie.  One of those children, Fannie’s namesake, died when she was only 17 months old.  Then, in 1861, the year the Civil War broke out, his wife Fannie was cooking when her dress caught fire.  Henry was burned trying to extinguish the flames, but Fannie was quickly engulfed and she burned to death.  Surely, he had reason to feel despair, but instead he wrote, “God is not dead, nor doth he sleep.”

Let’s go back now to the story of Enos.  After the Lord tells Enos his sins are forgiven he says, “…wherefore, go to, thy faith hath made thee whole.” (Enos, v.8)  Enos had received his own personal peace, but as we read on, we see that he isn’t satisfied to leave it at that.  “Now it came to pass that when I had heard these words I began to feel a desire for the welfare of my brethren, the Nephites; wherefore, I did pour out my whole soul unto God for them.” (Enos, v. 9)  Enos wants the circle of peace to be expanded to include his brethren—his family, his community—those he feels an affinity with.  What parent of young children or teenagers doesn’t wish for a little “peace and quiet” in the home or on a long road trip?  What bishop doesn’t feel sad when he sees ward members who refuse to speak to each other?  Who doesn’t get tired of negative political campaigns and ranting talk show hosts, religious and racial intolerance and divisiveness in this, the “United” States? 

Where can we find peace within our families and communities?  Again, we can turn to the Savior for help.  In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells us how to feel peace with our brethren:  “Therefore if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee; Leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift.” (Matthew 5:23-24)  We “come to the altar” every week when we partake of the Sacrament.  To feel the peace promised by the Savior there, we must strive to forgive each other of our weaknesses—in our families, among our church brothers and sisters, and among all those we come into contact with.  There can be much to divide us in all of these relationships—personality differences, political differences, racial and ethnic differences, religious differences.  There is no peace in divisiveness, and so we not only need to forgive each other of offenses, but we also need to learn tolerance, and even charity toward those who are different from us.  One of my favorite Christmas stories tells of such charity.  It is told by the Mormon poet, Emma Lou Thayne, about her fellow church member and friend, Jan Cook.  Jan’s husband’s work brought them and their three children to Africa, where they lived for three years.  There were no members of the church anywhere near.  [Read story, p. 19 in Making Peace, by Eugene England]:

By their third Christmas, Jan was very homesick.  She confessed this to a good friend, a Mennonite; Jan told her how she missed her own people, their traditions, even snow.  Her friend sympathized and invited her to go with her in a month to the Christmas services being held in the only Protestant church in the area, saying that there would be a reunion there of all the Mennonite missionaries on the continent.

It took some talking for Jan to persuade her husband, but there they were being swept genially to the front of the small chapel.  It felt good, being in on Christmas in a church again.  The minister gave a valuable sermon on Christ; the congregation sang familiar carols with great vitality.  Then, at the very end of the meeting, a choir of Mennonite missionaries from all over Africa rose from their benches and made their way to stand just in front of Jan and her family.  Without a word, they began singing.  Without a leader, without music, without text, they sang, “Come, Come Ye Saints.”  Every verse.

Disbelieving, totally taken by surprise, Jan and her husband drenched the fronts of their Sunday best with being carried home on Christmas…When they finished, Jan’s friend said simply, “For you.  Our gift.”

Jan’s Mennonite friend had sent to Salt Lake City for the music to the hymn that she knew Jan loved, had had it duplicated and distributed to every Mennonite missionary in Africa;  they in turn had learned it very carefully to bring the spirit of Christ to their own reunion where foreigners to their faith would be waiting to hear.”      

Let’s make one last visit to the Book of Enos to see how far this circle of peace can expand.  After praying for his own people, the Nephites, Enos declares, “…my faith began to be unshaken in the Lord; and I prayed unto him with many long strugglings for my brethren, the Lamanites.”  (Enos, v. 11)  The Lord promises him that the records will be preserved to be brought forth at some future day for the salvation of the Lamanites.  Only then does Enos say, “And I, Enos, knew it would be according to the covenant which he had made; wherefore my soul did rest.” (Enos, v. 17)  Enos could not rest until the promise of peace extended beyond himself, beyond his own people, to include his enemies, the Lamanites.

At the beginning of his earthly ministry, 500 years after Enos sought peace for his enemies, the Savior taught this principal at his Sermon on the Mount:  “Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy.  But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them which despitefully usse you, and persecute you…” (Matthew 5: 43-44)  He also taught in the same sermon, “Blessed are the peacemakers:  for they shall be called the children of God.”  (Matthew 5:9)  Is this too much to ask of us?  It’s hard enough to keep peace with those who care about us—is it really even possible with those who actually hate us and want to do us harm? 

Ask the Amish community that lately lost their young daughters to a brutal, suicidal killer in a rural one-room schoolhouse.  They were able to forgive this man and when funds poured in to help the grieving community, they turned around and gave some to the widow and children of the killer.

Ask the soldiers in the frozen mud of the trenches of WWI about the spontaneous Christmas truce of 1914.  On Christmas Eve… [Read from Internet book review of Silent Night, Holy Night: The Story of the Christmas Truce, narrated by Waltar Cronkite]:

...soldiers on both sides rose from their trenches and greeted each other in “No Man’s Land,” a field littered with barbed wire and frozen corpses.

For two days, the guns of war were silent as men who had shot at each other only hours before, after defying officers, laid down their weapons to exchange gifts and traditions.

The truce ended, the killing resumed on orders from the generals, but for a short time the hatred had ceased, the killing had stopped—peace and good will toward men was not an impossibility.

Peace in our hearts, peace within our families and our communities, peace between nations—all come from following the example of the Prince of Peace.  Love, mercy, forgiveness, compassion, and reconciliation—all these are extended to us by Jesus Christ.  And this is how he asks us to live.  This is how peace on earth will come.