YOKED TOGETHER WITH A GENTLEMAN

My husband Mike Anderson is a gentleman and last night talking with some of the ladies after my book club I figured out he may be rare. I have always known he was good but perhaps I am taking him for granted without enough appreciation. So I am shouting it on the rooftops: "Thank you Mike for growing up and being considerate."
One of my boys visited this last week. I always forget they are still children at least at my house. When they come they get out boxes of cereal and have breakfast and then walk off and leave it all sitting there for me to put back. Hello, can we be adults here. I wouldn’t do that at your house.
So, I am telling this to the girls in the car coming home from Salt Lake last night and some of them said, "Well, you are lucky if your husband doesn’t do it too." Then they went on to tell about closets that are strewn with clothes, bedside tables with books flowing onto the floor, dishes put in the sink at the best but most likely left on the table with cereal boxes. Yikes, Mike never does those things. Here are some things I love about Mike:
1. He washes the dishes every night including cleaning the kitchen. If we have guests I get to sit and talk after dinner while he cleans up
2. He takes care of all the finances. I hate to think about what a mess I would make of things and maybe I could learn but am grateful I don’t have to.
3. He supports my whims. I want to paint—sure take lessons and I will build you some frames. Mostly he tries to accommodate my ideas--recently a flagstone patio in our backyard woods. There isn’t much he says no to.
4. He is a man who talks and is interested in women things. Hey, he even watches Masterpiece Theater with me.
5. If I want to go off with my girlfriends to Education Week, a road trip, 10 days in Monterey, New York with a friend, painting in Colorado, whatever, he always says yes and I mean always.
6. He never says a word about the money I spend and he could and he is generous with all the people in his life.
7. He is a patient teacher. He has taught many people to ski. He is our Spanish tutor right now and none of us work very hard but he still plugs along trying to inspire us with creative ideas.
8. He has perseverance in all his life endeavors. He can teach himself how to do anything; rock walls, tile, refinish furniture, stain glass, do woodwork, speak Spanish, play golf ( his biggest challenge) whatever.
9. He picks up after himself--always has and he maintains the cars (I used to tell him that's why I married him).
Thank you Mike for being a gentleman. I am a lucky woman to be yoked with you because you pull more than your load.

"THE KINGDOM OF THE DEVIL MUST SHAKE"

I am fascinated by a quote from Neil A Maxwell from a BYU Devotional in 1999. I think about it often. On occasion I actually pray for it in my supplications to the Lord-- that the kingdom of the devil will shake. This is what Elder Maxwell said:


"There is imbedded in the Book of Mormon a verse I wish I understood...but which I draw to your attention in 2 Nephi 28:19. It says "the kingdom of the devil must shake"...a very intriguing verse. I do not presume to know what this redemptive turbulence will be like...but it will be a redemptive turbulence so that a few people now caught up in the generic kingdom of the devil will find their way out and into the kingdom of God. I don't know how this will happen...but it will happen. I rather imagine, and this is pure speculation that there will in this redemptive turbulence be some jarring inconsistencies brought to the fore, jarring enough that it will cause some people who are caught up in the subsets to leave and find the truth...but it's going to be real turbulence. This is the sort of thing that will take some real jarring and there sits that prophecy imbedded in the Book of Mormon that is full of portent for Latter Day Saints."

THE BEST SUGAR COOKIES

If you like a thick soft sugar cookie these are for you. This makes a big batch and they reroll very nicely. Don't overbake to keep them soft. The orange peel in the dough is wonderful. Add a little zest to the icing to make them even better.


2 eggs
1 C. butter
2 C. Sugar
¾ tsp. Salt
1 C. sour cream
2 tsp. Soda
1 tsp. Vanilla
1 T. orange zest
6 C. flour
Cream the eggs, butter, sugar & salt. Add remaining ingredients. Roll thick. Bake 375 for 6-8 minutes. Don’t overbake.

SOUL HUNGER - WOMEN NEED WOMEN

COMBATING SOUL HUNGER by Dr. James Dobson
Focus on the Family

Women who feel isolated and lonely often look to their husbands to satisfy what has been called their "soul hunger." It is a role men have never handled very well. I doubt if farmers came in from the fields 100 years ago to have heart-to-heart talks with their wives.


What has changed in that time is the relationship between women. A century ago, great support and camaraderie existed between wives and mothers. They cooked together, went to church together and grew old together. And when a baby was born, aunts, grandmothers and neighbors were there to show the new mother how to diaper, feed and discipline.


Today, however, the extended family has all but disappeared, depriving women of that traditional source of support. Furthermore, the average American family moves every three or four years, preventing long-term friendships from developing.


It’s also important for women to understand that some of their needs simply can’t be met by men.


In the classic book Anne of Green Gables, by Lucy M. Montgomery, there’s a wonderful moment when the teenage Anne says, "A bosom friend – an intimate friend, you know – a really kindred spirit to whom I can confide my inmost soul. I’ve dreamed of meeting her all my life." She expresses a longing that is common to women, but not so typical in men. It’s the need for intimate friendship. I think this is a key to understanding the incidence of depression common among many women today.


To combat this sense of isolation, it is extremely important for women to maintain a network of friends through exercise classes, group hobbies, church activities, Bible studies or bicycle clubs. The interchange between them may sound like casual talk, but the bonding that occurs there makes life a lot more satisfying.

My thoughts: I think we all know this intellectually but if we don't have women in our life we try to get men to play the roll and get frustrated when they are not good at it. The church is such a wonderful facilitator of female friendships. We have been in our new home for 9 months and I have a visiting teacher who is interesting and interested. I love talking to her. I have two ladies I visit. One of them has become my good friend and writing buddy even though she is young enough to be my daughter. We both feel like God put us together. I didn't get to have a sister but consider my sister-in-laws special sisters in my life. Alicia lives close to me and I know that there is nothing she wouldn't do for me. We can comiserate for hours. And I have a daughter that I feel close to. I understand her soul. I hope she does mine. I plan to be there for her whenever she needs me. My soul hunger is filled even by my husband because I am one of the lucky ones who has a man who likes to talk. But, I still need women.

Book Review - Peace Like a River by Leif Enger

This is a wonderful story about faith and miracles. The story takes place in 1963. The father, Jeremiah Land, we will discover as the story moves along, is a deeply spiritual man who spends a great deal of time in prayer and the scriptures. The story begins with Reuben's birth and he is not breathing. Jeremiah eventually takes his son and "said in a normal voice, 'Reuben Land, in the name of the Living God I am telling you to breathe.' " Reuban narrates the story from an adult perspective. He says in the beginning:

"Real miracles bother people, like strange sudden pains unknown in medical literature, It's true: They rebut every rule all we good citizens take comfort in. Lazarus obeying orders and climbing up out of the grave--now there's a miracle. and you can bet it upset a lot of folks who were standing around at the time. When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to cough him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of the earth.

"My sister, Swede, who often sees to the nub, offered this: People fear miracles because they fear being changed--though ignoring them will change you also. Swede said another thing, too, and it rang in me like a bell: No miracle happens without a witness. Someone to declare, Here's what I saw. Here's how it went. Make of it what you will.

"The fact is, the miracles that sometimes flowed from my father's fingertips had few witnesses but me. Yes, enough people saw enough strange things that Dad became the subject of a kind of misspoken folklore in our town, but most ignored the miracles as they ignored Dad himself. " (p.3-4)

This is the story of a single father raising his three children Swede 9, Reuben 11 and Davy (I think 17) in rural North Dakota. A tragedy happens to this family as the story begins to enfold that changes the direction of their life and affects them all but the love they have for one another carries them through and helps them deal with each event bringing them together even closer.

I loved the characters and family dynamics. The nine year old girl Swede was especially charming but I thought she was a little too precocious and was writing poetry I wouldn't think a girl that age could write. The narration by Reuben was beautiful and his struggles with asthma after seeing how he came into the world added an interesting dilemma to his character.

The ending was beautiful, sad, uplifting and surprising right up to the end. It had a family sweetness and a spiritual vein you don't often see in contemporary novels. This is great storytelling.

THE FOOT PATH TO PEACE by Henry Van Dyke

To be glad of life because it gives you

a chance to love and to work and to play

and to look up at the stars,

To be satisified with your possessions

but not contented with yourself until

you have made the best of them.

To despise nothing in the world

except falsehood

and meaness and to fear nothing

except cowardice,

To be governed by your admirations

rather than by your disgusts.

To covet nothing that is your neighbor's

except his kindness of heart and

gentleness of manners,

To think seldom of your enemies,

often of your friends,

and every day of Christ,

And to spend as much time as you can

with body and with spirit

in God's out of doors--

These are the little guide-posts

on the footpath to peace.

PLANTING TULIPS AND FAITH

I was listening to the Garden Show on the radio in the car one Saturday morning this spring when someone called to inquire about planting the tulip bulbs they just bought. The garden expert tried to be nice. She said, "I can’t imagine where you found those bulbs this time of year because tulips must be bought and planted in the fall. Sorry, it is too late to enjoy the flowers this year. Tulips need to go through the cold winter months before they will bloom."

I know this all too well. Many a fall I have procrastinated tulip planting only to have the bulbs rot in the garage. Once I dug up some tulips after they bloomed planning to replant them in a new spot in the fall but it never happened. When I procrastinate and spring comes I am sorry and sad but there is nothing I can do then.

That is why last October when Mike and my boys were carrying boxes into the new house I was planting tulips in a little garden space in the front yard. I bought 70 or so bulbs at Costco and I knew when spring arrived I would be longing for those blooms.

I worried about the bad soil I was planting them in and the northern exposure with its lack of sun. But I went forward in faith. A large iceberg formed in that planting area staying all winter and part of the spring. When it finally melted there was not even a tiny sign of growth. I felt discouraged—those little shoots usually start up before it gets warm. Finally, well into April there were a few little sharp points poking through the soil. I saw full-grown tulips bursting in color everywhere else. My hope that they would ever bloom was faint. Weeks went by and they struggled along. The landscapers came to install the sprinkling system and tromped on some of the struggling growth.

Alas, by the middle of May my tulips started to bloom. Some of the blooms were small and I figured it was lack of sun. But then the yellow and red blooms got taller and bigger and reached forward for the sun. Some of the blooms were huge. Even the bruised plants had flowers. My neighbors have voiced awestruck enthusiasm for my tulips. Oh, ye of little faith. Doubt not fear not. Plant and God will take care of the rest but plant before the snow flies.

I can't just get up any day and expect faith to be there blooming. So, tulips are a metaphor for faith—believe, go to work early and then wait patiently. Endure the cold winters of adversity to get strength. "You have no witness until after the trial of your faith." Then show gratitude for the sweet blooms that reach for the "Son". The blooms [fruit] of the spirit are love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith. (Galations 5:22)

Next year it won’t be so hard to believe the tulips will grow. That is how faith is. Once you have experienced the fruit it is easier to be patient the next time you need to exercise it. And I won’t need to replant the tulip bulbs for a few years. They are in the ground rooted as I hope my faith is rooted in my soul ready for when I need it.

THE SECOND RESCUE

During our fireside at the Riverton Stake in Wyoming last week President Anderson told us a story about the Bronze sculpture pictured here. It is a table sized piece made by Phil Nebeker who was preparing to go on a mission in 1993. He had been a part of the Stake's Second Rescue mission-- doing the temple work of the Willie and Martin handcart companies. . Phil decided to sculpt this piece to help finance his mission as his family was already supporting his brother. This is only Phil's second attempt at sculpture. He wanted the piece to honor Bodil Mortensen and James Kirkwood who died at Rock Creek. When the first sculpture was finished Phil and his sister went to pick it up at the foundery where they had it cast in Orem. While they were there a message came that President Hinckley wanted to see them in 45 minutes. It turns out that Phil's sister had called the Secretary to the First Presidency and asked if President Hinckley would be interested in seeing the statue. After a 2 hour visit President Hinckley was pushing to buy the sculpture from Phil. He hesitated because he had already promised the first one to his bishop. But President Hinckley prevailed and wrote a check for the statue. Years later someone, while in President Hinckley's office, noticed a shiny spot on the bronze caused by someone touching a particular spot over and over and removing the patina. Jolene Allphin said she thought the spot was Bodil Mortensen's bonnett. This little ten year old girl in the Willie Company, traveling with another family, was found dead slumped against a wagon wheel clutching a piece of sage brush. Eleven year old James Kirkwood carried his four year old brother on his back the day the Willie Company arrived at Rock Creek. James collapsed and died that evening. These two were among the thirteen buried in a mass grave at Rock Creek.

Edith Goble Grave Marker

This is the Grave marker of an infant who died in the Hunt Wagon Train traveling with the Martin and Willie companies. Joanne Baird, shown here, is a sister to Marge Hinckley. They are descentants of Mary Goble who gave birth to this baby just before arriving at Devils Gate. This is how the daughter Mary describes the scene: "We traveled on till we got to the Platte River. That was the last walk I ever had with my mother. We caught up with handcart companies that day. [Martin Company] We watched them cross the river. There were great lumps of ice floating down the river. It was bitter cold. The next morning there were fourteen dead in camp through the cold. We went back to camp and went to prayers. They sang, 'Come, Come, Ye Saints, No Toil Nor Labor Fear.' I wondered what made my mother cry. That night my mother took sick, and the next morning my little sister was born. It was the 23rd of September. We named her Edith, and she lived six weeks and died for want of nourishment...My mother had never got well; she lingered until the 11th of December, the day we arrived in Salt Lake City, 1856...She was forty-three years old...My sister was buried at the last crossing of the Sweetwater River." (Tell My Story Too, Jolene S. Allphin p. 350)

No one knew about the grave marker until recently. It had been in the garden of a family in Idaho for years when they discovered that this baby was related to Sister Hinckley and arranged for the family to get the marker. No one knows how it arrived in Idaho from the gravesite.

HANDCART TRIP JOURNAL MAY 2008

A DISASTER GONE SPIRITUAL
May 2008

Is it possible that something on the face is a complete disaster but can turn out to be a great spiritual experience? It happened to us this week.

We were honored to be invited to go to Wyoming with Jolene Allphin and a group of 30 guests to visit the Handcart sites. Jolene and Sherryl Fowers have been doing this for 15 years and look on this gathering as somewhat of a mission. When it was over I understood why. They tell heart filled stories on the sites as they happened during the fateful disaster in October and November 1856 at Martin’s Cove, Rock Creek and other meaningful sites in the area.

Storms were brewing as we left our home early Wednesday morning. The group met at 8:30 AM in Evanston, Wyoming. We were introduced to our trail boss, Larry Walker, who had served a mission at the Sixth Crossing of the Sweetwater handcart site. He was instrumental in designing the trails for the handcart groups doing treks in the area. The trail boss and storytellers used walkie-talkies for direction to the 8 cars during the three days of traveling around. They worked pretty well.

The first day we tried to get out of the car at Ft. Bridger and other sites but the drizzly rain and wind made it difficult. We ended up spending a lot of time in the missionary humanitarian compound telling stories at the Willie Sweetwater Sixth Crossing. There is a big warehouse on this site with a workshop on one end and a sewing center on the other where the missionaries produce humanitarian supplies to donate. There is a large meeting hall in the middle. The ladies there said they make as many as 3 quilts a day. They all have a camper close by where they sleep and spend non-working time. This is a 6 month mission and I never thought I wanted to do it but it looked like they were having a lot of fun and doing good. They help the stake treks during the summer; they man the visitor center and besides their humanitarian efforts, they square dance, have devotionals and eat together often. They have had as many as 70 couples at both sites.

We had an interesting group with 6 small to medium, well-behaved children, 3 teens, two young married women without their husbands, 4 empty nester couples, 2 men without their wives, a lady from Brazil, an older widow (Sister Hinckley’s sister Joann Baird), A young married couple with the girl’s mother and two women without their husbands. One of the empty nesters was Michael Moody who spent many years as the director of music for the church. He wrote the music to "This Is The Christ" among other things. It was a joy to have him play and accompany our singing on several occasions.

The first evening we met at the Riverton Wyoming Stake Center for a fireside with President Anderson who helped compile the "Remember" book http://www.amazon.com/Remember-Handcart-Companies-Rescuers-Present/dp/B000CD96SW (must be out of print--it is pricy) which is about the past and present rescue of the Martin and Willie Handcart companies. The "Second Rescue" was the effort of the Riverton Stake to do the temple work for all the members of these companies plus the rescuers. This was an amazing experience for the members there. President Anderson related many wonderful stories about how the Second Rescue came about. Our spirits were filled. The current Stake President’s wife, Amy Phister, joined us for the rest of the week. She spent years organizing the treks before the missionaries took over and is still involved. She was the model for some of Julie Rogers paintings on the http://www.tellmystorytoo.com site--namely "Give Thy Angels Charge" and "The Vault of Heaven." Jolene's book on this site is a treasure trove of handcart stories.

The second day it rained in torrents all day keeping us out of most of the places we wanted to go but Jolene kept us inspired with stories and songs. We had a nice program inside the Muddy Gap Cabin where many of us told our stories dressed in pioneer clothing. We visited the Martin visitors center that afternoon and many of our group walked out to Martin’s Cove in pouring rain with 6 inches of water on the path. They came back soaked, cold, but uplifted. Some of us stayed in the log kitchen and made a stew, headed up by James Oliphant. We had a nice dinner together and then another program with more stories and singing.

On the third day we had another great program with a group of missionaries at the Sweetwater Sixth Crossing, Willie Site including a re-enactment of the burial at Rock Creek where 13 were buried in a circle, feet in, covered by white linen sheets and snow. The ground was too frozen to dig a grave. One of the pioneers had these sheets in their handcart saving them for a home in Zion. It was a very touching scene. The original plan was to do it on the very spot at the site but the road to Rock Creek was impassable because of the rain. It cleared a bit in the afternoon and we were able to get out and walk along the Sweetwater together and pull a few handcarts around.

That night we ate meatloaf together at the Grubstake in Atlantic City, which is the last town before the road to Rock Creek. Since we were the only people in the restaurant the owner let us stay to tell more stories and sing together. Some of the group braved the snow and mud that night and went to Rock Creek to sleep...and I mean "brave"! We slept at our nice bed and breakfast with the mystic hippies who owned it. The next morning we would wake to 3 inches of snow. I could look across the plains and imagine how it must have looked to those pioneers those many years ago. How daunting that must have been.

We left that morning and my spirit was filled with the sweet songs and stories told with such emotion and love these last few days. I have been to these places before but telling the stories while we were there made a difference in my understanding of the sacrifice and suffering...and our bad weather made me more empathetic to theirs.

Our group was awesome beyond words. They would be my pick of mates if we ever did this for real. Thanks to Jolene Allphin for her passion and knowledge of the stories. She is a true inspiration. This may be her last year...she says but I don’t know if she will be able to stay away, unless it is raining and snowing again.